Excerpt from
The Eucharist
Essence, Form, Celebration
Johannes H. Emminghaus
Edited by Theodor Maas-Ewerd
Translated by Linda M. Maloney
© The Order of St. Benedict, Inc., Collegeville, Minnesota. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced by any means, without the written permission of The Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota 56321.
Contents
Translator’s Note
Foreword to the First Edition
Foreword to the 1992 Edition
INTRODUCTION
Translator’s Note
In order not to diminish the readability of the work, I have avoided the use of the highly abbreviated symbols that are commonly used in scholarly works, since they demand that the reader refer frequently to the list of abbreviations. The abbreviations that are used here are easy to decipher by themselves.
Biblical texts are taken from the New Revised Standard Version, and when possible they are not given as mere verse references, but are quoted or summarized. However, it is often advisable to take note of the context, and for that reason the reader should keep the Bible at hand while reading this book. The abbreviations of the biblical books and the spelling of names follow the JBL guidelines.
The constitutions and decrees of Vatican Council II are cited according to their official titles (with abbreviations based on the first two initials) and from the translations in Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican II (New York: Guild Press, 1966).
Liturgical and patristic texts were given new translations by the author; for the translation, the newest English versions have been consulted. Historical conciliar texts are cited according to the Denzinger-Schönmetzer edition (Enchiridion symbolorum. The sources of Catholic dogma. Translated by Roy J. Deferrari from the 30th ed. [St. Louis: Herder, 1957]).
Texts of the rubrics for the celebration of Mass (Ordo Missae) are taken from Ralph A. Keifer, To Give Thanks and Praise. General Instruction of the Roman Missal (Washington, D.C.: Pastoral Press/NAPM, 1980).
Texts of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal are The Sacramentary (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1974, 1985).
Foreword to the First Edition
For nearly fifty years, I have felt a great gratitude to Pius Parsch. When I was a boy, wise pastors in the parish of St. Meinolf in Bochum not only taught me how to be an altar boy, but at the same time instructed me in the liturgy. Even before I received my first “Schott”1 as a Christmas present from my parents in 1928, I was collecting the “Sunday leaflets” by Pius Parsch (entitled “Live with the Church”) that were used in the congregation. Later came his “explanation of the Mass” and “liturgical calendar,” which were combined in three handy volumes under the title The Church’s Year of Grace, and furnished the spiritual accompaniment to my theological studies. When good guidance brought me to the University of Vienna in 1967, and I chose Klosterneuburg, nestled between the Vienna Woods and the Danube, as my home, in my gratitude I formed a plan to prepare a new edition of Parsch’s “explanation of the Mass” (the third edition of which had appeared in 1950) for our own time.
Now, after the Council, it is impossible simply to re-edit or revise it; neither the content nor the language is suitable any longer. But Parsch’s fundamental principle was correct, and it remains so today: the essence or nature of the liturgy can only be explained on the basis of Christ’s institution, as witnessed in scripture, and the traditional teaching of the Church; its form, in turn, with its many changes, its high and low points, is explicable also from scripture and history; but the manner of its celebration can only be explained from the form as we know it and especially from the concrete faith of people at any given time. Thus the dedication of this little volume to Parsch is more than a symbol of devotion and gratitude; it indicates the program and purpose of the book.
The book’s intention is utterly practical: It is meant as an aid to an appropriate and responsible celebration of the congregational eucharist. By “practical,” however, I do not mean something that is quick and easy to use, like many handouts and texts that are widely available. I do not desire to spare the reader the task of study and reflection. The intended result is not only an active participation, but also one that bears fruit because it stems from faith. That is what appears to me especially crucial at the present time. Our task now is to live with the renewed liturgy, to integrate it more and more fully into our lives, and at the same time to understand and celebrate it as a sign of salvation and as the Church’s self-expression. That constitutes the “practical” purpose of this book.
As I am writing, I think especially of my companions in priestly ministry as the readers and “consumers” of this book, but also of teachers, catechists, and members of parish liturgical committees and study groups, and by no means least my own audience in Vienna, to whom I feel especially close. Therefore I have made an effort to make the book readable. I have dispensed with footnotes, but I hope, in spite of that, that I have never betrayed the degree of confidence that the reader of a piece of professional literature bestows on the author. I want in our own time to further Pius Parsch’s desire that living liturgy be celebrated in living communities.
Johannes H. Emminghaus
Klosterneuburg, April 1976
Foreword to the 1992 Edition
It has been fifteen years since Dr. Johannes H. Emminghaus, professor of liturgiology and sacramental theology at the University of Vienna, submitted his manuscript The Mass: Nature, Form, and Celebration to the Austrian Catholic Biblical Publishers (Österreichisches Katholisches Bibelwerk). It would represent false modesty were I not to admit that the fact that I had given him the suggestion for this book fills me with joy and some pride as well. In any case, Professor Emminghaus and I, in our first discussions, were planning a revision of Pius Parsch’s “explanation of the Mass,” but it soon became apparent that such a project was impossible; there had been too much intervening development in theology and in the Church.
Thus what emerged was a new book that quickly became a standard work on the eucharistic celebration, and was particularly successful as a textbook for those studying theology. The publisher, in consultation with Professor Emminghaus, deliberately chose to use the word “Mass” in the title, rather than “eucharistic celebration,” which would have seemed natural in the wake of the Council. On the one hand, we wanted to indicate continuity, and on the other hand we wanted to appeal also to people who do not consider themselves ecclesiastical “insiders,” but whose overall education has made them open to an interest in Church history and its developments.
The unexpected death of Johannes H. Emminghaus in 1989 prevented him from undertaking the revisions of the book that by then were necessary. Hence I am very grateful to Monsignor Theodor Maas-Ewerd, professor of liturgiology in the theology faculty of the Catholic University of Eichstätt in Bavaria, for having agreed to look over the work. He has incorporated the insights of recent research, brought the bibliography up to date, and in addition has given a new formulation to many passages, because there have been some important changes in thought and language since the first edition. Thus this standard work is again available as an up-to-date and readable book. At the conclusion of this book, Professor Maas-Ewerd offers an affectionate memorial to his fellow countryman and colleague; it conveys the personality of Johannes H. Emminghaus to the readers in impressive fashion.
Professor Emminghaus, who was both a historian of the arts and a person deeply interested in “eastern Europe,” would certainly have rejoiced in the new cover illustration for his work, the Last Supper panel from a work by the Master of Raigern. At a time when the Benedictine monastery at Raigern (Rajhrad), in southern Moravia near Brno is again open to “western” visitors, the round table can symbolize the unity and community of all who celebrate the eucharist.
Norbert W. Höslinger
Altmünster, July 1991
Introduction
Nature and Celebration of the Mass
This book is intended as an aid to understanding and to a formally correct celebration of the eucharistic liturgy as it was renewed after Vatican Council II; it is therefore an “explanation of the Mass,” as Pius Parsch, to whom this work is dedicated, understood it. It is, in fact, an explanation—entirely within the programmatic intention of Parsch—both of the biblical foundations and the historical development of that liturgy within a tradition extending over almost two thousand years, with its high and low points, promising moments for future development as well as obvious dead ends, repeatedly calling for improvement and reform. We must therefore inquire into both aspects—Jesus’ foundational intention and the Church’s long tradition of celebrating the Lord’s legacy—in order to obtain a clear picture of the enduringly valid form of the Mass at all times, including its present realization. Neither of the two criteria can, by itself, constitute the necessary foundation: A naive reliance on the biblical evidence alone would deny the historical dimension—the ecclesial character of the liturgy—while concentration on its purely historical development, or its temporary adaptation to the demands of any given time, without a continual reference to its institution by Jesus, could easily eliminate the sacramentality and thus the salvific efficacy of the celebration of the Mass. After all, the Church, in celebrating the Mass, is not merely in a position to do something edifying; it is fulfilling the command of Christ.
However, at the present time, in the wake of the successful reform of the liturgy, this book requires a certain amount of justification. Is it at all possible or desirable to “explain the Mass”? Instead, should not the Mass itself, if it is correctly celebrated, be immediately transparent and self-explanatory? And whatever is not immediately obvious—is that not simply the “mystery of faith,” as it is called in the acclamation after the consecration?
Liturgy as Sign of Faith
The liturgy of the Mass, like all sacramental signs, is a “sign of faith.” But neither signs nor faith are static: they are very dynamic realities. Life is immediately involved with “history,” the sequence of events. Thus in the first place faith is, surely, a grace given to human beings by God, but at the same time, from the human perspective, it is also something like a “learning process” derived from proclamation, considered experience, stimuli, and “mystagogy.” It is not something that exists as a finished reality in itself. Consequently, faith must always be nourished from Scripture and the Church’s teaching; in the present case, we refer particularly to the doctrines of the faith regarding the Mass. The history of the celebration of the Mass reveals the development of this faith, but also the “creeping in” of foreign traits “less harmonious with the intimate nature of the liturgy” (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy 2 21), as indicated by the need for reform after the last Council. Therefore it will be a good thing if we first present and explain the sound teaching of the Church in its biblical context.
At the same time, however, the sacramental sign of faith certainly requires explanation. It is true that it was instituted by Christ as something that is coherent and comprehensible. But not even natural signs have meaning in themselves; they continually derive their vital power in large part from the experiences and conventions of a particular group. In the case of the sign of faith, that means the Church. Liturgy, by its very nature, is “organic liturgy.” Therefore the second goal of the present reflections is to make the meaning of the signs “more transparent,” more available to experience. That was the pastoral purpose of the whole conciliar constitution on the liturgy, and many people have been working toward that end for years, certainly with a great deal of success. Nevertheless, this work also requires ongoing explanation and reflection: for example, so that the overcoming of the language barrier will not lead us to convert the whole liturgy into words; so that the mystery may retain its place in balance with comprehensibility and rationality; so that the signs are not perfected purely for their own sake, but may be and remain in future the signs of faith. Thus the second purpose of this explanation of the Mass will be to explain the signs and, through interpretation, to make them more accessible to experience, in order that faith may be realized in these signs. In the future, that will have to be the task of a “second reform of the liturgy,” now that the first has revised the rituals and the books for the various rites. Faith must be supported and nourished by signs that are more vital and easier to understand.
The Mass as Center and High Point of Sacramental Life
The present missal, in the first articles of its General Instruction, briskly summarizes the Church’s teaching about the celebration of the Mass: it is, in fact, intended to be a short explanation of the Mass. The initial article begins by giving a taut and concise description of the nature of the Mass:
The Mass is more than simply an act of worship: It is primarily a sacramental application of redemption. In every sacrament, God anticipates all human action; God begins the work of our salvation, and without God we can do nothing (John 15:5). In a faith that calls upon the sacraments, human beings accept God’s offer of salvation, and only through and by means of that offer are they able, through Christ and in the Holy Spirit, to worship God and incorporate their lives in God. The Mass is the primary locus of this saving action of God for the baptized, and at the same time of the worship of God “in spirit and truth” (John 4:24) by the faithful People of God. The celebration of the Mass brings human beings into a dialogue with God. This twofold movement from God to human beings and then from them to God, simultaneously “the action of Christ and of the people of God” is characteristic of the celebration of Mass. Salvation is never simply imposed on people; each person, in his or her dignity, is taken seriously by God, and each person cooperates in her or his own salvation. Therefore, not only in life, but also in the Mass, each person is not merely a recipient, but also a conscious, active, devout and community-conscious participant and actor.
In the Mass salvation is applied to us not merely in abstract validity and as something complete and already accomplished, and not simply as the effect of a previous saving action of Christ (in his incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension); instead, the event of salvation itself, which happened once in historical time, becomes present, “sacramentally” present, in sensible signs. We are thus drawn, as living beings, into Christ’s saving action “for us,” because the historical, once-for-all Christ event is given to all times, both objectively and as a real presence in every moment. Time is, after all, only relative; that is, it is simply a quality of our created order (according to place and time) existing in the succession of events. God’s action transcends and surpasses time. In the ritual symbol, therefore, Christ’s action is really and continually “present.” The agent of this ritually symbolic celebration is the Church, that is, the Lord himself who continues to live and work in it. That is why GI 1, cited above, also says that the mysteries of redemption are “in some way made present,” that is, in the order of space and time.
The whole complex of mysteries of our redemption unfolds in sequence in the course of the liturgical year. This represents more than simply a didactic concern for the limited ability of human beings to grasp things at a given time. It is not only the proclamation in the liturgy of the word throughout the year that manifests this unfolding, although it appears most clearly there; the celebration of the Mass as a whole is sustained by the mystery of each individual feast. SC 102 therefore says: “Holy Mother Church is conscious that she must celebrate the saving work of her divine Spouse by devoutly recalling it [in real symbols] on certain days throughout the course of the year. Every week, on the day which she has called the Lord’s day, she keeps the memory of His resurrection. In the supreme solemnity of Easter she also makes an annual commemoration of the resurrection, along with the Lord’s blessed passion. Within the cycle of a year, moreover, she unfolds the whole mystery of Christ, not only from His incarnation and birth until His ascension, but also as reflected in the day of Pentecost, and the expectation of a blessed, hoped-for return of the Lord. Recalling thus the mysteries of redemption, the Church opens to the faithful the riches of her Lord’s powers and merits, so that these are in some way made present at all times, and the faithful are enabled to lay hold of them and become filled with saving grace.”
The Mass as Center of the Church’s Self-Realization
The Mass is also the center of the Church’s life, that is, it is embedded in a larger whole, but not identical with that whole. The second Vatican council’s Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) clearly states that the nature and activity of the Church are manifested in three ways: In its proclamation, which awakens and gives life to faith, in service to the world (so-called diakonia or caritas), and in the liturgy (cf. SC 9 and 10). “Liturgy” here is only another name for “sanctification through the sacraments.” These three elements: proclamation, caritative service and liturgy, together constitute an indissoluble unity. One element cannot exist without the other two. Therefore the Church very early combined its proclamation (service of the word) and its charitable efforts (community meal, later a collection for the special needs of the poor) with the eucharistic celebration, at least symbolically. But preaching and missionary efforts on behalf of the good news and the Church’s service to the world necessarily extend beyond the celebration of the Mass and are not fulfilled within it. Still, the eucharist is the center and summit of the whole. Other worship services as well (separate liturgies of the word, catechesis for adults and children, participation in the liturgy of the hours, etc.), and all occasions when Christians assemble or live together in the name of Jesus Christ, and the Lord is present among them (Matt 18:20)—all these take their life from the mystery of the eucharist, “leading up to it and flowing from it.” Moreover, such things as meditation, private reading of Scripture, personal prayer, adoration of the eucharistic species outside Mass, etc., are necessary to support the liturgical event and fill it with personal life. The isolated celebration of the Mass by itself cannot fulfill these necessary purposes, especially since the worship service is often subject to time constraints. Only in this larger context is the Mass really the center of all devotion and a dedication of one’s life to God.
The Hierarchically Organized People of God as Agent of the Liturgy
The People of God does not gather to celebrate the Mass as an amorphous, indifferent assembly of people; it is “hierarchically assembled.” It is true that as a whole, since their baptism and confirmation, the people have the dignity of a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation and a people of God’s own choosing (1 Pet 2:9). It is a holy priesthood that offers spiritual sacrifices to God (1 Pet 2:5). But there exists also within the Church the special office of servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries (1 Cor 4:1). Just as Christ was sent by the Father as shepherd, teacher, and priest, so he sent the apostles in the same way (John 20:21), and they, through the laying on of hands, sent their successors in the same office of proclamation, leadership, and administration of the sacraments, reflected in the orders of bishops, priests, and deacons in the Church. It is true that, ultimately, it is always Christ himself who teaches, unites and sanctifies; but those in office represent him—that is, they stand for him and act in his name. That is why they are entitled to leadership in proclamation during the liturgy of the word and in the eucharist; moreover, the collegiality of all bishops and their priests, beyond the limits of the local diocese, guarantees the unity of the Church of Christ, whose highest office of service is the Petrine office of the bishop of Rome. Nonetheless, all offices and special callings and abilities (charisms) are together responsible for the building up of the body of Christ: “to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ” (Eph 4:12-13). Ultimately, it is Christ himself who gathers together the whole body of the Church and holds it in unity (Eph 4:16), and he himself is always present and active in the sacrifice of the Mass, represented in the person of the priestly minister, and especially, but not solely, under the eucharistic species (and in all the sacraments). He is also present in his word, which he himself utters in the person of the proclaimer when sacred scripture is read in the Church; finally, he is present in the prayer and singing of the priestly people of God, the community—for he is always present where two or three are gathered in his name (Matt 18:20; for the whole, cf. SC 7a).
The organic structure of the Church and also of the worshiping community requires a unified, but not necessarily a uniform organization. “For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us” (Rom 12:4-6). Equality in the Church, as in every society, does not consist in uniformity and levelling, but in equal dignity and calling. Of course, any kind of privilege that was not coupled with a readiness to serve on behalf of all would be the opposite of what is right. Office exists in the Church only for the sake of the community of Christ, as an office of service for and within it.
Those exercising office are not to “lord it over” the faith of the community (2 Cor 1:24); in the same way, they are not lords of the liturgy. Growing out of the fundamental structure of the sacramental signs, but also developing over the nearly two thousand years of the liturgy’s history, there have come to be liturgical laws that are above all subjective caprice and signify in themselves the unity of the whole Church. The unity must be as great as possible, but also only as great as necessary. Common worship requires a balance of order and spontaneity. Whims of the person presiding over the service, going beyond the variable norms of the liturgical books, represent bad forms of clericalism: the result is that the community is subjected to the favorite ideas and private notions of the presider. Law in the Church does not contradict its character as a Church of love, because in the Church the order of law cannot and should not be the instrument of the exercise of power, but should benefit and guarantee a realm of freedom for every Christian. Among the fundamental rules of social life at the present time is that those who are affected must be heard. Only then can the participation of the whole Church be active, mutual, and spontaneous. Hence GI 1, §2 reads: “It is of the greatest importance that the celebration of the Mass, the Lord’s Supper, be so arranged that the ministers and the faithful who take their own proper part in it may more fully receive its good effects. This is the reason why Christ the Lord instituted the eucharistic sacrifice of his body and blood and entrusted it to the Church, his beloved bride, as the memorial of his passion and resurrection.”
“The purpose will be accomplished if the celebration takes into account the nature and circumstances of each assembly and is planned to bring about conscious, active, and full participation of the people, motivated by faith, hope, and charity. Such participation of mind and body is desired by the Church, is demanded by the nature of the celebration, and is the right and duty of Christians by reason of their baptism” (ibid., §3).
After paragraph 1 of chapter 1 of the General Instruction has described the meaning of the Mass as center and high point of Christian life, paragraphs 2 and 3 (just cited) give closer attention to its structure.
On the Structure of the Eucharistic Celebration
The Mass is “the Lord’s Supper” and “sacrifice of the body and blood of Christ.” There are good reasons why paragraph 2 speaks of the meal character of the Mass before describing it as a sacrifice: The fundamental structure of the Mass, which is the subject of these two articles, is a ritual derived from a meal, not a sacrificial rite. As a memorial of his pasch, the Lord left us the eucharist—that is, a thanksgiving spoken over the components of a meal, bread and wine—and instructed the Church to do this in his memory. He did not order a sacrificial rite which, at least in religious-historical terms, would consist of the destruction, burning or burial of a sacrificial object. He desired instead, under the form of bread and wine as his “sacrificed” body and blood “poured out for us” and “for the forgiveness of sins,” to remain present to his community. It is important, therefore, that we be attentive to this proximity to the form of a meal in the eucharist as the memorial of the Lord is carried out.
However, behind and above this structure of a meal is always the reality of Christ’s sacrifice and that of the Church; in this context, “sacrifice” refers to its proper meaning as donation or self-surrender, and not primarily to the carrying out of a sacrificial rite. In the history of religions, and also in the old covenant, sacrifice meant the giving of things that human beings need to sustain life, which therefore have a great deal of existential importance for them, but which they nevertheless surrender to God by definitively renouncing these objects for personal use. From this point of view, the sacrificial action is more a symbol for the surrender of one’s own life; that alone constitutes the genuine sacrifice. Otherwise, sacrifice could easily become merely a “satisfaction for the gods,” an absolving of one’s religious duties that evades ultimate seriousness: in the end, it would be hypocrisy and pure works-righteousness, something the Old Testament prophets repeatedly found themselves called upon to attack. Thus Christ’s death on the cross is a real symbol, and the ultimate consequence of his own lifelong obedient surrender to the will of the Father, which was the true “sacrifice of his life.”
The Letter to the Hebrews (10:5-7), which interprets Christ’s saving action as a high-priestly sacrifice of expiation, therefore places these words of Psalm 40:7-9 on the lips of Christ: “Consequently, when Christ came into the world, he said, ‘Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body you have prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings you have taken no pleasure. Then I said, “See, God, I have come to do your will, O God” (in the scroll of the book it is written of me.’” In the eucharist, the Church enters into this total surrender of Christ, and so do we ourselves, with all the strength we can muster. Therefore the Mass is also our sacrifice, the expression of our complete surrender to God and God’s will. A mere recitation of or attendance at Mass without this ultimate and completely serious dedication of our lives to God would be hypocrisy. Therefore Paul writes in 1 Cor 11:27-28: “Whoever … eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup.”
The Celebration of the Mass as the Church’s Celebration
It is in the dimension just described that we find the “conscious, active, and full participation of the people” called for by the General Instruction, paragraph 3; in fact, this is what makes possible “a participation in body and spirit that is conscious, active, full and motivated by faith, hope, and charity.” Only in a secondary sense does it reside in the correct performance of ritual, no matter how necessary that certainly is, because the human being is a whole person made up of body and soul, and because every sacramental sign, that is, the outward side that is evident to the senses, is meant to show what the sacrament effects, in order thus to effect that for which it is a sign. Sacraments always live from faith and repentance; without these their recipients would find them empty. It is true that, on the one hand, the Church clearly teaches the objective certainty of the conferral of grace in the sacrament; but on the other hand, it affirms with equal seriousness that the sacraments’ effectiveness is proportioned to the disposition and attitude—the faith, hope, and love—of the recipient.
Christians are members of the Church not through an abstract “spiritual” attachment, or simply in the feeling of belonging, but in the communion of the concrete local Church of the diocese and the community united with its bishop. “In the local Church, first place should be given, because of its meaning, to the Mass at which the bishop presides surrounded by the college of presbyters and the ministers and in which the people take full and active part. For this Mass is the preeminent expression of the Church.” (GI, §74). However, the Church is also present in the parish Mass: “Great importance should be attached to a Mass celebrated by any community, but especially by the parish community, inasmuch as it represents the universal Church gathered at a given time and place. This is particularly true of the community’s celebration on the Lord’s Day” (GI, §75). Although even at the present time it is occasionally desirable to celebrate Mass for special categories of persons within our pastoral care (children, youth groups, students, family groups, etc.), still it is the local Church, particularly in the parish liturgy incorporating all ages and states of life, that is the visible and tangible, and therefore the concrete manifestation of the whole Church. “The parish is the primary, structural community recognized by the diocesan Church and by virtue of that is, as the Council teaches, in communion with the universal Church. The parish is our first and normal spiritual family, developed not so much out of the homogeneity of the members (who in many cases are quite different from each other) but in virtue of a specific pastoral ministry and of the cohesive influence of the one faith and the one charity.… The parish is the school of God’s word, the table of the eucharistic bread. It is the home of the community’s love. It is the temple of shared prayer; in a certain sense, as the Council says, it is the visible Church established concretely in all parts of the earth” (Address of Pope Paul VI, 7 September 1969: Osservatore Romano, 8–9 September 1969. English: icel, Documents on the Liturgy, 1963–1979 [Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1982]).
The principal characteristic of the liturgy of the Mass is therefore its common celebration, the gathering of Christians in the name of Jesus and the active participation of the people of God in the eucharist. In this, the fundamental axiom is that each should do “solely and totally what the nature of things and liturgical norms require” of him or her (SC 28).
Paragraph 2 of the General Instruction, cited above, speaks initially of “fruitful” participation, urging that the people should “gain … more fully” the saving “fruits” of the memorial celebration of Christ’s death and resurrection. That is the meaning and effect of every sacrament, but of the eucharist most particularly. The other sacraments address specific situations in human life: the person’s unique incorporation in the Church through baptism and confirmation; healing, when necessary, through reconciliation and anointing; the state of life in marriage or orders; but the eucharist is our “daily bread,” the sacrament received most often, and to that extent the center and high point of the Christian life (§ 1). Thus the “sacramental praxis” of a Christian is largely determined by the nature of his or her participation in the Sunday eucharist. This “church attendance” is in fact, and at all times, in a high degree the measure of her or his entire Church identification. Therefore paragraph 3 makes a second demand: that participation be conscious. In its emphasis on the objective effectiveness of the sacrament (particularly in medieval scholasticism and in post-Tridentine theology, in deliberate opposition to those who denied it, with the result that the arguments appear somewhat overdrawn) it may well be that Catholic sacramental teaching had become somewhat one-sided: it came to seem that the sacrament worked almost without human participation, as if it were “magic.” In addition, a one-sided perspective on the liturgy as an “objective” action of the Church, conducted according to official books and ritual directives with obligatory instructions and rubrics, and even performed in a language understood by very few, could easily give the impression that the subjective activity of minister and recipient were secondary and therefore less important. But sacraments are always something related to humans as rational beings, that is, as conscious persons capable of thought.
That is why the liturgy, especially now, demands conscious and knowledgeable participation. The introduction of the vernacular is a valuable aid in this; the unfortunate language barrier has happily fallen. Nevertheless, the liturgy lives not solely from the word, but also and still more from signs, and these must be appropriate and comprehensible to modern people, and something they themselves can carry out. A number of signs have been added to the liturgy in the course of history, and for that reason they are subject to change. Others can be substituted, or, depending on the cultural and social situation (for example, in missionary fields or where there has been a transition from agrarian to industrial culture), new ones may have to be found. The celebration itself, as paragraph 3 says, should be shaped by taking into account “the nature and circumstances of each assembly.” This means that liturgical signs should always proclaim; they should never cloak something in mystery. It is noteworthy and helpful for us today that the fundamental signs of the seven sacraments are very few and are applicable almost everywhere even now: water and oil, bread and wine, imposition or extension of hands. But even beyond this, modern people—in spite of many opinions to the contrary—are still aware of symbols, for example in advertising, social status, forms of grouping, abstract painting and technical formulae, even though our daily lives and work are more sharply rationalized and verbalized than in earlier cultures. In the interest of a humanizing and more universally humane shaping of our lives, in our own times the genius of the world of symbols is thoroughly desirable, and it is certainly the task of all types of educational effort to vivify symbolism in the face of abbreviated, dried up and impoverished social trends and individual styles of life.
Romano Guardini pointed out seventy years ago, in two books that are still important today (Liturgische Bildung [Rothenfels, 1923] and Von heiligen Zeichen [Rothenfels, 1922/23; 2nd ed. Mainz 1927]) that human beings need symbolic experiences, not only for the sake of the liturgy, but for the sake of their own humanity. If there is to be fully conscious participation in liturgy, there is a need for deliberate pastoral efforts to give resonance to the word that is preached and to enable the people to grasp the sacramental signs. Therefore the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy says in article 19: “With zeal and patience, pastors of souls must promote the liturgical instruction of the faithful, and also their active participation in the liturgy both internally and externally. The age and condition of their people, their way of life, and degree of religious culture should be taken into account. By so doing, pastors will be fulfilling one of the chief duties of a faithful dispenser of the mysteries of God; and in this matter they must lead their flock not only in word but also by example.”
Celebrating the liturgy in a genuinely human way is an important task. Our goal must be to eliminate the need for an explanation of the Mass outside the Mass itself; instead, liturgy must be more clearly and obviously a conscious self-realization of the community. The Mass, by its nature as a deliberate dialogic action between God and human beings, requires active participation. We cannot simply accuse previous eras of encouraging pure passivity in attendance at Sunday Mass. Even then—with some exceptions—personal prayer always formed a part of the Sunday service. But people for the most part prayed “during Mass”; they did not pray “the Mass,” and the Mass is not the sum total of many personal prayers; it is a well-structured whole consisting of action, prayer, and singing, with the various tasks shaped in relation to one another. Neither one person alone nor all together should do everything. Like every community, the one celebrating eucharist is made up of different members. In the first place, there is the distinction between presider and congregation. These two principal initiators of the action each carry out or delegate their parts: The presider (priest or bishop) leads the assembly; he acts in the name of Christ when he says the prayers that are proper to his office. But at the same time he is a member of the people of God and prays on their behalf when he articulates the thanksgiving and petitions of the community, which they acknowledge and make their own by saying “amen.” He is the official proclaimer and interpreter of the word of God; according to the situation he can receive support from concelebrants, a deacon, and ordinarily from a lector as well.
The congregation, in turn, acts together in word and song, response and acclamation, or allows itself to be represented—especially for ministries that are difficult for a large group to carry out—by members of the community delegated for these purposes. These might include more demanding types of song that require a good deal of training and preparation, and are sung by the choir or schola (the Greek word scholé means zeal or study) with its cantor; the procession with the gifts or tasks like the bringing forward of the liturgical vessels (performed by the servers); support of the community singing by a cantor or organist. Even modest services like the cleaning and decorating of the room, the laying out of hymnals and other liturgical aids, helping handicapped persons to their places, taking up the collection, and many others are ultimately liturgical tasks.
We speak, in this context, of a distribution of liturgical roles: Each contributes to the celebration what corresponds to his or her office or abilities. In order that such services not be left to chance or supplied in makeshift fashion, previous meetings and practices are required; ideally these should be the responsibility of a group such as the parish liturgy committee that exists in many places. They are also responsible for a purposeful development of the community’s consciousness of liturgy: The aim is not to carry out a single concept or recipe that is valid always and everywhere, but to see that a concrete community with its own abilities and limitations assembles to celebrate its own eucharist.
What is required in addition is full participation by the whole person. Human beings depend on their senses. Spiritual things can only be expressed in sensible forms. There never exists a conversation of soul with soul; such conversation can only be mediated by comprehensible words, gestures or indications that are conveyed by the senses. It is characteristic of all sacraments and all liturgy that the externals correspond to something internal; the visible signs are conformed to a divine gift that is, for the most part, invisible. The human body is something expressive: its postures and gestures, words and expressions testify to the person’s thoughts; in turn, physical attitudes such as standing and kneeling, sitting and walking, are aids to mental and spiritual movement or meditation.
For an experience of unified community, a common external attitude—though certainly not a rigid drill—is desirable. Before everything else, participation must be devout. While the characteristics here described are mentioned in article 14 of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 3 of the General Instruction deliberately speaks of “faith, hope, and charity.” Together, these constitute a description of the Christian life and its realization in personal and liturgical piety. All the symbolism of externals aims at the one essential thing. Liturgical reform does not mean simply a reform of the signs, but primarily an intensification of faith. Just as every symbol derives its life from the living pre-understanding of the group, but remains empty and exhausted if that pre-understanding gradually disappears, the same is true of liturgy without faith, hope, and charity. In recent years much has been achieved in regard to externals, which have been made better and more appropriate. But if we confuse the means of reform of symbols and the more expansive proclamation of the message of salvation with the purpose, namely the renewal of the people of God that the Council wanted to bring about, we will achieve a more magnificent routine of churchly life, but in the end we will have attained nothing. It is vital that the improved opportunities for expression of sacramental life should be made our own internal reality, a genuine self-expression of the people of God in its liturgy.