Pray Tell is pleased to reprint, with permission, the Amen Corner from Worship 98 (July 2024). To subscribe to the journal Worship, visit the link here.
Is Liturgy Simply “a Given” in a Synodal Church?
by Carmel Pilcher
Introduction
I recently had a phone conversation with my eighty-one-year-old aunt. She had just had lunch with three friends who are no longer active members of the church. As we caught up on each other’s news she asked me what I was currently doing. I said that I was working on a couple of liturgy publications. She responded: “I hope you write something sensible!”
Heady Early Days of the Liturgical Reform
We have just marked the sixtieth anniversary of the signing of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy that received majority approval by the Council Fathers. In those early days in most Australian dioceses bishops took seriously their role as chief liturgists and created liturgical commissions to assist them with their work. Local bishops hired at least one trained liturgical formator, with the bigger dioceses setting up liturgy offices—often staffed by religious women and men who had been sent by their communities to the USA or Europe for studies. While larger parishes also employed a liturgy coordinator, most set up liturgy committees. At the national level, a commission of experts assisted the bishops with the work of implementation, including the writing of liturgical texts. Catholics not only embraced the reform but took on liturgical formation in earnest. Liturgical formation was a priority at every level of church leadership.
An opportunity to gauge the church’s engagement with the liturgical reform came when Australia hosted the fortieth International Eucharistic Congress in Melbourne in 1973. Church officials, including liturgists, prepared a series of Masses, with each liturgy celebrating a different section of Australian society: children and young people, the sick and elderly, religious and priests, migrants, and even the Byzantine Rite of the Mass of St John Chrysostom. A particular highlight was the Mass for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Catholics that incorporated local indigenous elements of language, song, and dance, with participants painted with the traditional ceremonial ochres from the land. (See Worship, vol. 90, March 2016.) This set the stage for liturgical inculturation that has continued to be a benchmark for First Nation Catholics in Australia.
Resistance from Detractors
Openness to the reform was, however, not accepted by all. In the early 1980s in Adelaide, the Archdiocesan Liturgy Commission, which I chaired at the time, was asked to provide guidelines for inclusive language in the liturgy as part of the pastoral vision for the local church. All proceeded smoothly until we began the process of implementation in the parishes. The few simple changes provided the catalyst for a full-on violent assault—hate letters, abusive phone calls, heckling and speaking over presenters at workshops, thousands of leaflets calling for the resignation of the archbishop. Scandalously, the divisive opinions infiltrated the liturgy itself. The decision had been to omit “men” from “for us and for our salvation,” but some were heard shouting “men.”
In his presentation to the Scottish laity network in 2023, eminent historian Massimo Faggioli describes the 80s and 90s of the last century as a time of interruption and divergence in the church, where parallel understandings of ecclesiology and liturgical practice became polarised. In 1997 I accepted the position of Liturgy Director in the Sydney Archdiocese. From the beginning of my tenure, those opposed to the liturgical reform sprang into action, con- stantly checking my teaching and writing. Soon their angry retorts shifted from general to more personal attacks. An anonymous internet blogger described me as “that rodent nun” who should be removed from her position by the authorities. Church leaders were not always supportive. As part of my work, I initiated a pastoral liturgy program for the regional seminary that was taught by priests in the field. When a new rector was appointed, I was told my services were no longer needed because “liturgy is the preserve of the ordained.”
The constant need to defend the church’s teaching meant that those of us in the field had little or no creative energy left to explore the riches of the liturgical reform, and to develop strong theological foundations for its future. This of course was apart from the personal cost—magnified if one was a woman! However, in that difficult period in Australia, one event offered us hope.
A Light in the Darkness
In January 1995, Pope John Paul II came to Sydney for the beatification of Australia’s first saint, Mary MacKillop. I led the liturgical team—the first non- ordained person to do so. Together we prepared an Australian liturgy where women religious leaders joined the bishops and women served at the altar, while two of us assisted as MCs. Local Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Catholics welcomed the Pope and conducted a smoking ceremony during the introductory rites, and an Aboriginal deacon served at the altar. Ethnic groups in national dress accompanied the Word in procession, and offered petitions in their native tongue, while priests were invited to exercise their ministry as ordinary ministers of communion. In all of this we were enriched by the care- ful guidance of the then-papal master of ceremonies, Archbishop Piero Marini. He encouraged a liturgy with a local church flavor: “If we wanted a Roman liturgy, we would have it in Rome.” Our national celebration, in keeping with the reform, ignited the church’s liturgical imagination.
The State of Liturgy Today
Fast forward to the liturgical life of the Australian church today. Most dioceses have closed their once thriving liturgy offices or subsumed them into other curial departments. Budgets for liturgical formation have either been cut or withdrawn altogether. Diocesan liturgy commissions have been disbanded or become ineffective. Seminaries may not even have a liturgical theologian on the faculty.
At a national level there is slightly better news. While there was one commission, now there are three councils: Liturgy, Music, and Art and Architecture, but with limited funding. This includes a budget for biannual national liturgical gatherings. The Australian Catholic University supports a Centre for Liturgy, but with only four staff, it is limited in its output. While a small number of lay people and religious pursue liturgical studies, there are few paid positions.
Parish Sunday Eucharist
So why this dramatic turnaround? Why has liturgy ceased to be a priority for church leaders? Is it assumed that worshipers are now ritually and symbolically literate and therefore resources for liturgical formation are no longer needed?
The measure of our reception of the liturgical reform is best mirrored in the Sunday Eucharist, “the very identity of the church” called to assemble by Christ ( John Paul II, Dies Domini, 31). I take my own parish as an example. As we gather, we tend to only greet those we know. Do we realise we are gathering as Christ’s Body? As the liturgy progresses, Christ’s priestly ministry, the “right and duty” of the baptized, is not strongly apparent. Although the liturgy texts are often unintelligible, and the Scriptures that are proclaimed are almost always in exclusive language, no one seems perturbed. We miss a great opportunity to exercise our priestly ministry when generic priestly prayers are simply read from a published book, with no relevance to the pressing needs of the world. All seem content to receive communion from the tabernacle rather than from the sacrifice, and to sing devotional music from a different era or Pentecostal tradition, rather than music that serves the liturgy. Although it is a long-established parish tradition for worshipers to stand during the eucharistic prayer, newcomers, lacking a sense of a unified body at prayer, choose to kneel. The language of symbol and ritual action is minimally performed and often disconnected from the celebratory moment.
It seems that at least in my own parish there is cause for concern, and I am sure we are not alone.
Liturgy is “a Given”
Is liturgical theology no longer seen as a credible, distinct discipline? While theologians, canonists, moralists, practical theologians, and scripture scholars assisted as experts at the Australian Plenary Council, the Synods of Oceania, in my own diocese, and even in Rome, no liturgical theologian was included.
Our local team prepared the liturgies for the Oceania Continental Synod held in Fiji in February 2023. Our understanding of liturgy as integral ensured we connected with the content and process of the Synod. During the preparation, when I earlier commented that liturgy was barely mentioned in the working paper, Susan Pascoe—a member of the Roman Synod committee—responded, “Oh, but liturgy is a given.” As the Synod process unfolded it became clear to us that the organizers regarded liturgy less as “a given” and more as an appendage to the real agenda.
So, what did the October Synod in Rome say about the liturgical life of the Church?
In the forty-one-page synthesis of the Roman Synod, liturgy received nineteen mentions—and many only in passing. Liturgy is formally addressed in section three: “Entering the community of faith—Christian Initiation.” The catechumenal journey is proposed as the paradigm for a synodal church walking together (3a), and suggestions are given to emphasize the synodal nature of the initiation sacraments, while several paragraphs are devoted to the Eucharist.
The Synod participants acknowledge the importance of Eucharist as the source of synodality: “. . . communion, which springs from the Eucharist and is cele- brated in it, configures and directs the paths of synodality” (3e). The first recommendation invites us to celebrate Sunday Eucharist “in a way that befits the gift, with an authentic sense of friendship in Christ.” Its “beauty and simplicity” should be a source of formation, where “liturgy celebrated with authenticity is the first and fundamental school of discipleship” (3k).
The Synod document twice describes the Eucharist as authentic. We must ponder this: a return to the sources might shed light on this recommendation. The tradition teaches that eucharistic communities who celebrate authentically—or we might say prophetically—always witness to love and unity (Augustine), hold the poor and vulnerable at their centre ( John Chrysostom), and recognise that all of creation is sacred (Irenaeus of Lyons and Athanasius of Alexandria). What might a prophetic/authentic Eucharist that “befits the gift” look like? Central to the memorial is the paschal mystery—the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. Having died once and for all, the daily deaths and risings to life of the gathered assembly become the sacrament we offer. Too often this connection appears weak, both ritually and symbolically.
In addition to the recommendation on eucharistic participation, liturgical language is to be made more accessible for worshipers (3l), and a wider variety of prayer forms and devotions are to be encouraged (3m).
The Need for “Serious Liturgical Formation”
Francis develops the understanding of Eucharist as communion in his recent apostolic letter Desiderio Desideravi (2022). In Francis’s words, “the liturgy is the first source of divine communion in which God shares his own life with us. It is also the first school of the spiritual life” (30). This finds an echo in the Synod proposal: “How do we recover the capacity to live completely the liturgical action? . . . How do we continue to let ourselves be amazed at what happens in the celebration under our very eyes?” asks Francis. His answer: “We are in need of a serious and dynamic liturgical formation” (31).
Francis tells us that this formation is to be both practical, so that it forms, and theological, so that it is informed. Concerning practice, he says: “every aspect of the celebration must be carefully tended to (space, time, gestures, words, objects, vestments, song, music . . . ) and every rubric must be observed.” However, he continues, even if this happens, it is not enough to “make our participation full” (23). The celebrating assembly needs to know “how the Holy Spirit acts in every celebration” (49), so that the encounter with the divine can foster an interior attitude of praise and conversion. For this, study is needed. He quotes Romano Guardini: “without liturgical formation ‘then ritual and textual reforms won’t help much’ ” (34). And Francis stresses that all are to access this formation, and he reminds us, “It is the Church, the Body of Christ, that is the celebrating subject, and not just the priest” (36).
The key issues at the forefront of church activity today seem to be ecological conversion, the scandal of abuse, evangelization, social justice, ecumenical relations, and the expansion of ministries to be more inclusive of women—to name a few. It seems that the church is taking a parallel path. If the seminary curriculum should, according to Francis, “each with its own perspective, show its own intimate connection with the liturgy” (DD 37), one would assume that all church activity should do the same. Surely the path of synodal walking together begins and ends in the Eucharist celebrated on Sunday, which, after all, is the pivotal sacrament of participation, community, and mission?
Conclusion
The Synod calls for the celebration of liturgy that leads to authentic friendship with Christ. Francis sets a path for this to be actualized. For serious liturgical formation to be undertaken a shift in attitude, beginning with the “chief liturgist”—the bishop—will need to occur. A comprehensive liturgical renewal—one that includes all the baptized, the Body of Christ—is urgent.
Liturgical formation will need to be once again a priority at diocesan and parish levels. Liturgy commissions and parish committees will need to be financially resourced with qualified personnel. Seminaries—open to both those preparing for ordination and anyone who chooses—will prioritize liturgy in the curriculum. With these “sensible” developments, the work of liturgy will shift from being simply “a given” to taking its rightful place as the “source and summit of the church’s life.”