Catholic Sensibility

By the end of January, I’ll have reached the conclusion of our examination of the Catholic funeral rites. Every time I reach the completion of one of these ritual books, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m sure ICEL did too.

With the Pastoral Care rites, RCIA, and the OCF, we’ll have reached the end of the published work of the best years of ICEL. It was in the 1980′s that this committee set to work translating, composing, and adapting the Church’s second editions of the various rites for English-speaking Catholics. Unfortunately, such good work was not to continue. Even ICEL critics will have to concede we’ve seen very little in terms of liturgical upgrades in the past decade–compared to the pace a generation ago. So it will be time for a shift.

In the 1980′s, pastors, liturgists, and pastoral ministers saw little or no controversy as new ritual books were rolled out to replace the hastily implemented texts of the previous decade. We were mostly happy in those days. We had more to work with, and more experience in parishes with our respective ministries to guide us in a fruitful adaptation where needed. The quality of language in the prayers and music was, even if largely unnoticed by the rest of the laity, a quiet improvement we’ve all experienced when sick, when welcoming new believers, or when burying the dead. And unfortunately, there has been room for some ministers, priests included, to do little or nothing to develop their liturgical ministries to the sick, the dead, the mourners, or to new Catholics. Using the old books from the 70′s is not unheardof. Failing to implement lay ministries, especially music, is more widespread.

That brings me, and hopefully you, to a determination as to the next direction. In February, perhaps, it will be time to look at the second generation of Vatican II implementation. Remember the first set of instructions on the liturgy (check the sidebar for our commentary):  Inter Oecumenici (1964), Tres abhinc annos (1967), Musicam sacram (also 1967), and Liturgicae instaurationes (1970). After twenty-four years, the CDWDS seemed to think we needed more instruction on liturgy, so we received a document on inculturation Varietates legitimae followed in 2001 by Liturgiam Authenticam, the one that set the tone for translation of the liturgy, albeit a number of years after it began to be enforced. 

Implied in these last two documents is that we were doing it all wrong before the 90′s, as each of these instructions was subtitled, “for the Right Implementation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council.”

Obviously, the GIRM 2000 edition (English, 2002) is on the list, too. As would be Redemptionis Sacramentum, the 2004 document policing problems as Rome views them. John Paul’s writings on liturgy, especially his 1998 apostolic letter Dies Domini, would be fair game, too. When you consider the two USCCB efforts on architecture and music (making a neat liturgical trilogy with Fulfilled in Your Hearing, which was devoted to preaching) there would seem to be enough liturgy documentation to keep us busy well into 2012.

My approach with these examinations of liturgical documents is serious, but not intended to be burdensome to non-academics. (Frankly, it’s been a long time since I was in a theology school setting.) The discussion points are all similar to what I would be presenting if you readers were in one of my parish’s adult faith formation sessions. You’ll get an occasional outrageous remark to make sure y’all are awake. And you’re more than welcome to go deeper than I do into the particulars.

Long ago, a reader suggested I tackle Humanae Vitae. To be honest, I would prefer to recruit a different moderator for such a discussion. I know many others are more expert than I in moral theology. I don’t think Neil is inclined to do it (though he’s certainly welcome). My preference would be for a married lay person to dissect that document and offer a regular series of posts (minimum once or twice a week, but no more than daily). I have it downloaded into my draft files on the site. So if some other enterprising soul, active blogger or not, would like to take a stab at it, contact me and make an offer I can’t refuse.

While I’m on the subject, I would welcome serious additional commentators. Having blogged here for seven years, I do confess a certain fondness that this site retain a certain style. But building on tradition, especially in a creative way, would pump fresh life into the effort to offer a sensible take on Catholicism. That said, I also appreciate the many e-mails I get from Jimmy Mac and Liam to keep me abreast of things of interest to them. If anyone wants to suggest I have a public take on something, feel free to contact me on that, too.

Many years ago, my wife picked up the small volume Praying the Psalms by Thomas Merton. In it, he singles out Psalms 120 through 134, used for Israelite pilgrimages to Jerusalem, as worthy of a “special love.”

Perhaps these short, joyful songs are the most beautiful in the whole Psalter. They are full of light and confidence. They bring God very close to us. They open our hearts to the secret action of his peace and to his silent grace. St Augustine calls them the Psalms of our journey to the heavenly Jerusalem.

Merton then singles out the psalm from the past two Sundays of our Lectionary.

When I was in eighth grade, I made my third attempt to read the Bible cover to cover. After the cool stories of Genesis and the Exodus from Egypt, I remember plodding through many long sections of law and history that year. After Job, what a joy it was to arrive at the next stage of my pilgrimage–the Psalms. And then I hit that 176-verse manifesto meditation on God’s law. Shades of Leviticus and Numbers! Like Merton, I found the psalms that followed to be “light.” And short, too.

I’m spending the first half of Advent with the letter to the Colossians as my source of Lectio. Thanks to my Advent spiritual director, I think I’ve found my source of Lectio for the second half of my December pilgrimage. My own favorite is this one:

I raise my eyes toward the mountains. From where will my help come?
My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.
God will not allow your foot to slip; your guardian does not sleep.
Truly, the guardian of Israel never slumbers nor sleeps.
The LORD is your guardian; the LORD is your shade at your righthand.
By day the sun cannot harm you, nor the moon by night.
The LORD will guard you from all evil, will always guard your life.
The LORD will guard your coming and going both now and forever.

As a pastoral musician, I’m drawn first to the liturgical psalms of the season, 25 and 85. Then there are the secondary psalms 80, 24, and the canticles of Mary and Zechariah and Isaiah 12. But as a body, perhaps no set of psalms is more fitting for the Advent journey than these pilgrimage/gradual psalms. Within these short offerings, we find a wide expanse of reflections: our reliance on God, the need for a penitential spirit, the human longing for God, and praying at all times of day and in all circumstances. And especially that confidence of which Merton speaks.

Our approach to Advent should be informed by the reality of Christ’s first coming, and the mission with which we have been charged because of that. Jesus came once. We should be emboldened with the thought of his coming again. And within the human experience, we sing so many different songs. All point to God. All orient us to the most important journey we make. And in this Advent pilgrimage, we need the very best of orientations.

After the committal prayer, the rite moves through intercessions (OCF 220), one of two sets given, or either of the two sets in OCF 407, or some adaptation of these, or some newly composed. The Lord’s Prayer follows (221) and a concluding prayer (222 or 408).

The Prayer over the People (223) has three parts. After an invitation to bow heads, first:

Merciful Lord,
you know the anguish of the sorrowful,
you are attentive to the prayers of the humble.
Hear your people
who cry out to you in their need,
and strengthen their hope in your lasting goodness.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

Brief and appropriate, so as to not overshadow the main prayer of the rite, namely that of the committal.

The “Eternal rest grant …” versicle follows. Depending on the leader’s ordination status, there is one of two possibilities for the final part of this prayer. Each of them is rooted in the texts of the Scriptures. The final rubric instructs that “a song may conclude the rite.” Also, that “some sign or gesture of leave-taking may be made.”

The pope has authorized “Vatican Foundation: Joseph Ratzinger – Benedict XVI” as a way to promote theological scholarship and cultural initiatives.

According to Ratzinger Schulerkreis president Fr. Stephan Otto Horn, the goal is …

to promote the study of Joseph Ratzinger’s theology and spirituality, propagating his ideas in the Church and society, and ensuring they are absorbed.

Foundation president Msgr. Giuseppe Antonio Scotti:

(A) first ample contribution will come from the Pontiff himself, who has chosen to devolve a large part of the proceeds from his author rights.

How much of the foundation’s work do you think will be devoted to liturgy? What about liberation theology?

The pope’s new book is getting a lot of Catholic press these days: little trickles about condoms, worthiness for the priesthood, and such. One of the almost-daily reviews on Zenit highlights Benedict XVI as “a Pope who walks with us.” Vatican spokesperson Federico Lombardi, SJ:

The Pope seen up close, known better not only as Pontiff but also as a man, attracts the sympathy of a great number of people, who appreciate his kindness and sensitivity, his humility and humanity, and the attentiveness to those he meets, small and great.

(Pope Benedict) lets us see that he walks with us, brother and friend, with feet well planted on this earth of ours — fascinating but dramatic — and thus he helps us better to look ahead, with simple and firm faith, and lively hope.

The cynic in me wonders if this is all old territory. Since the mid-80′s the man was giving interviews, publishing books, and having books published under his name. What’s new in this book? Is it the blog and the Facebook page? Has the office changed the man or his perspective? Instead of being a theologian, a teacher, or the head of the most powerful department of the curia, he is now a pastor. Though he’s not completely divorced from any of those roles.

Father Lombardi is responsible for the public relations front for the pope and the Vatican. So I can understand why he would want the best possible face put on the pope and his new book. Will musings on condoms drown out everything else in the book? I suspect it will. Let’s have a re-do on Africa, eh?

I have to confess my curiosity on this book. Anybody else read it yet? What are you seeing in the pages there?

I was thinking I needed a companion this Advent. It’s now been a month since my last retreat, and before the routine of everyday life overwhelms my experiences and memories, maybe it would be good to seek some guidance. Thomas Merton is a great one to consider, and earlier today, I returned to his book The Sign of Jonas.

Before he became an American citizen, he mused about the evil of war, the American role in war (the atomic bomb is mentioned), and his own identification with being a monk and a citizen-to-be. I was struck by this reflection:

It would be a grave sin for me to be on my knees in this monastery, flagellated, penanced, though not now as thin as I ought to be, and spend my time cursing the world without distinguishing what is good in it from what is bad.

Wars are evil but the people involved in them are good, and I can do nothing whatever for my own salvation or for the glory of God if I merely withdraw from the mess people are in and make an exhibition of myself and write a big book saying, “Look! I am different!” To do this is to die. Because any man who pretetnds to be an angel or a statue must die the death.

Merton is unwilling, of course, to just be carried along with the “jetsam in the universe.” Can one stand with, yet stand apart? I think so. I think this is also an appropriate reflection for the Advent season. Like the ancient Israelites longing for the Messiah, we align with the Advent themes because we detect the world is not as it should be. The world remains in need of a savior. The world is in dire straits. The world, it seems, is in the same boat as those of us who long for an explicit Messiah. Surely, the unjust suffer as much as the just.

Do Christians poke and point at the world, and cluck at someone else’s blame and sin? Too many commentators, it seems to me, are prepared to do just this. We live not in monasteries in rural Kentucky, but in homesteads and blogs and other enclosures that intend, in part, to wall off some of the world, and keep it at a safe distance. And surely, some aspects of the world are indeed dangerous and should be kept at bay. But it seems to me Merton moved beyond that into an important distinction:

Coming to the monastery has been for me exactly the right kind of withdrawal. It has given me perspective. It has taught me how to live. And now I owe everyone else in the world a share in that life. My first duty is to start, for the first time, to live as a member of a human race that is no more (and no less) ridiculous than I am myself. And my first human act is the recognition of how much I owe everybody else.

Christians, certainly, without exception, are called to uncover and discern an appropriate withdrawal. How much distance do we give to be able to listen to God, discern the divine will, and move among our sisters and brothers in duty, solidarity, or however we might describe the relationship? Again, it seems to me that Advent is an appropriate time for a withdrawal of sorts, whether we ponder that sober message of the apocalypse, or we enter the wild zone of John the Baptist, or we engage in a quiet reflection as we think Mary might have done.

Merton’s last reflection on that Lenten day in 1951 struck me most deeply:

I am beginning to believe that perhaps the only, or at least the quickest way, I shall become a saint is by virtue of the desires of many good people in America that I should become one. Last  night I dreamt I was telling several other monks, “I shall be a saint,” and they did not seem to question me. Furthermore, I believed it myself. If I do become one–(I shall)–it will be because of the prayers of other people who, though they are better than I am, still want me to pray for them. Perhaps I am called to objectify the truth that America, for all its evil, is innocent and somehow ignorantly holy.

In a faith that embraces Christ as truly God and truly human, why should it be a problem for us to see paradoxes like human beings being at once evil, innocent, and ignorantly holy? Today’s Advent discernment: how much to withdraw to keep a safe distance, and how close to remain to live among the ridiculous?

The New Zealand bishops had a bit of overseas help when they printed out their spanking-new worship aid for Implementation Weekend. Jeffrey Tucker links the sheet at the Chant Cafe. Now we get to see what all the I-hate-you-hierarchy fuss was all about.

A quick perusal:

- A whole lot of rubrics are included. Including the one at the Gospel where the deacon or priest sign forehead, lips, and breast and the people do not.

- South Africa/New Zealand have “Proclaimers,” not lectors.

- The prayers after the Creed still have three names. Call them the “Universal Prayer” or the “Prayer of the Faithful” or the Bidding Prayers.”

- Looks like Memorial Acclamation A to me. That inclusion might split the traditionalist support, but they don’t realize it’s a credal formula.

- Speaking of Creed, a show of hands for those who plan to use the Apostle’s Creed …

- Pope Benedict’s additional dismissal formulas are here. Given the copyright date, they’ve been using them for two years already.

When I surfed to the home page of the NZ Catholic, the headline was the pope’s book, not the MR3 implementation. Nothing new on the NZCBC Liturgy page either. I still want to know how they snuck the Maori MR3 translation in there.

The words of committal follow, one of two options given in OCF 219, or one of four options (a bit more specialized) given in OCF 406. Option A was included in the first edition of OCF. I’ll give the second, which borrows from the blessing of Aaron:

In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ,
we commend to Almighty God our brother/sister N.,
and we commit his/her body to the ground
[or the deep or the elements or its resting place]:
earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The Lord bless him/her and keep him/her.
the Lord make his face to shine upon him/her and be gracious to him/her;
the Lord lift up his countenance upon him/her and give him/her peace.

According to the final rubric of OCF 219, the committal takes place at this time or at the conclusion of the rite.

For you music planners out there using “unproper” texts, what is your approach to the twofold nature of Advent? Were you into the apocalyptic this weekend, and saving the tender thoughts of anticipation and joy for the final days of the season? Or does “O Come O Come Emmanuel” get automatically trotted out like a faithful pony every first Sunday?

I notice Michael Joncas is promising a short series on contemporary Advent texts at PrayTell. His first suggestion, Genevieve Glen’s “Christ comes, the promised peace of God,” is quite worthy. Sr Genevieve brings a skill, artistry, and keen sense of language as much as anyone else in our age.

Sometimes I like playing around with the tunes of Advent, especially if the people aren’t singing something. One of my favorite things to play with was slightly inspired by Ottorino Respighi’s treatment of Veni, Veni Emmanuel in his Trittico Botticelliano. Maybe by the time I get to Advent II, I’ll throw in a raised sixth on the tune. I think the people would sing it, if they heard it first. Well, my new parish would, I feel certain.

Meanwhile, how’s Advent I going for you church musicians?

The rite gives three options for the Prayer over the Place of Committal: one if the place is to be blessed, one if it has already been blessed, and one when the final disposition is to take place at a later time. Four additional options are given in OCF 405, all for use when the place of committal has not been blessed. “Similar word” options are not given here. Why? Clearly the Church is keeping a closer watch over the texts used here and wants to ensure the rite itself (as opposed to the introductions) communicates and celebrates what the Church envisions.

The straightforward option A addresses Christ, as the place of committal is blessed:

Lord Jesus Christ,
by your own three days in the tomb,
you hallowed the graves of all who believe in you
and so made the grave a sign of hope
that promises resurrection
even as it claims our mortal bodies.

Grant that our brother/sister until you awaken him/her to glory,
for you are the resurrection and the life.
Then he/she will see you face to face
and in your light will see light
and know the splendor of God,
for you live and reign for ever and ever.

For translation geeks, a comparison with the first edition can be illustrative. Above “hallowed” replaced “made holy;” and lines four through six replaced a simpler, “and even though their bodies lie in the earth, they trust that they, like you, will rise again.” The Scriptural quote “in your light will see light” is more directly dependent on Psalm 36 than the earlier edition. Comparing the texts of the 1989 OCF with the 1969/1972 edition will reveal more upgrades–just note the small numbers in your second edition margin to compare to the first edition text.

Let’s get back to the two original compositions of OCF 218, the first when the place of committal has already been blessed. Option B incorporates a litany of praise:

All praise to you, Lord of all creation.
Praise to you, holy and living God.
We praise and bless you for your mercy,
we praise and bless you for your kindness.
Blessed is the Lord our God.
R. Blessed is the Lord our God.

You sanctify the homes of the living
You make holy the places of the dead.
You alone open the gates of righteousness
and lead us to the dwellings of the saints.
Blessed is the Lord our God.
R. Blessed is the Lord our God.

We praise you, our refuge and strength.
We bless you, our God and redeemer.
Your praise is always  in our hearts and on our lips.
We remember the mighty deeds of the covenant.
Blessed is the Lord our God.
R. Blessed is the Lord our God.

Without staring too long, I can pick out allusions or quotes to three different psalms in just the last section: 46, 34, and 51. And a shorter prayer to the Father follows here. It should be pretty clear that by the 1980′s, ICEL was extremely sensitive to the need for the integration of Scripture into the Church’s liturgy.

Option C, when the body’s final disposition takes place later, is brief:

Almighty and ever-living God,
in you we place our trust and hope,
in you the dead, whose bodies were temples of the Spirit, find everlasting peace.

As we take leave of our brother/sister,
give our hearts peace in the firm hope
than one day N. will live
in the mansion you have prepared for him/her in heaven.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

Next up, we’ll take a close look at the central ritual of the Rite of Committal. Meanwhile, any comments?

Adam Bartlett is about two years behind the implementation of the ’08 Ordo Missae in South Africa, but he and his confreres at The Chant Cafe seem to have enough to cheer about with New Zealand’s partial implementation. The commentariat at InsideCatholic has a more bitter streak. Laced with latent sedevacantism, too.

I’m not sure why musicians promoting the propers so vehemently are so gung-ho on the MR3 interpretation. It’s still not harmonized to the Lectionary. They still use the same set of propers on the 24th Sunday of Ordinary Time, for example, regardless of which Gospel is being proclaimed and preached: the debtors and the king, the prophecy of the Passion and the rebuke of Peter, or the return of the Prodigal. If indeed these proper texts are so essential to a better celebration of liturgy than those who use songs and hymns, why is it less important to harmonize these offerings in the Missal itself? In fact, if any music planner is careful with the parish repertoire and the Scriptures, it’s likely our hymns and songs will be a better match for the liturgy than semi-random antiphons plunked in to fill space at the top of the Missal page.

I know I get occasional hits from New Zealand and environs. Any tales to tell of the partial implementation there? And please tell me if you can: how did you get your translation of the MR3 into Maori approved so quickly?

As we read in OCF 207, the outline of Committal precedes the rubrics and texts of OCF 216, and is set out as follows:

Invitation
Scripture Verse
Prayer over the Place of Committal

Committal
Intercessions
Lord’s Prayer
Concluding Prayer

Prayer over the People

We’ll take the first two items in this post. In OCF 216, one possible invitation is given:

Our brother/sister N. has gone to his/her rest in the peace of Christ. May the Lord now welcome him/her to the table of God’s children in heaven. With faith and hope in eternal life, let us assist him/her with our prayers.

Let us pray to the Lord also for ourselves. May we who mourn  be reunited one day with our brother/sister; together may we meet Christ Jesus when he who is our life appears in glory.

According to the rubrics, a “similar” text may be used instead.

I’ve glossed over these many references to “these or similar words” given in the rites. I’d like to extrapolate a few thoughts on this matter. My interpretation is that all of these texts are probably too important to be improvised on the spot. The given text is sound, and should be used when nothing else has been composed. But if such texts are to be prepared “in similar words,” it is helpful to look carefully at what is included here. Then include those elements in an original composition.

In the invitation above, Christ is central to the expression. That probably should be maintained. Note also that it invites people to pray for the dead and for themselves. A significant aid would be to go to a Scripture passage and mine that text for references. Let’s take a popular funeral Gospel, John 14:1-6, and build from that text:

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. Where I am going you know the way.” Thomas said to him, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

If I were to rewrite that invitation above through John 14:1-6, it might sound like this:

The Lord Jesus invites us to have faith. Our brother/sister has indeed been welcomed into the Father’s house–that special place prepared for the faithful departed.

Christ affirms he is indeed the way, the truth, and the life. Keeping that foremost in our minds and hearts, we humbly ask him to show us the way through our sorrow and grief, and help us to maintain that pilgrimage which will one day reunite us with all our deceased loved ones.

My advice to presiders, ordained or lay, is to stick with the text in the book, unless you are willing to sit, pray, and compose something. Remember, liturgical adaptations are not intended for the convenience or whim of liturgical leadership. The opportunity is given when a deeper connection with God, the Scriptures, the rituals might be made for the people. And given that longer texts are to come in the prayer over the place of committal and the committal itself, no way should this text be longer than what is given. Indeed, if something shorter can do the job, that’s all the better.

OCF 217 gives four one- or two-verse Scripture passages, Matthew 25:34, John 6:39, Philippians 3:20, and Revelation 1:5-6. Others may be read. And as we read in OCF 211, one or more readings may be proclaimed at the Rite of Committal. Again, the standard of judgment to move beyond the given texts is not the desire of the minister, but the pastoral and spiritual needs of the family.

It can be either funny or shocking when otherwise liberal commentators drink the corporate Kool-Aid and cherry pick their “hysterical” opposition on important issues of the day. MSW’s commentary is often entertaining and usually provocative. But as long as he’s running a commentariat blog on NCR, it’s time to open up the floodgates and let those comments flow.

Somewhere in between burst urine bags and a domestic terrorist threat we saw nothing of in the three decades prior to 9/11 is some measure of truth. If I want my post on NCR, do I have to get “hysterical,” and suggest aliens have taken over the TSA, or that this is a shell game to dupe our adversaries, or a diversion from the possibility our president is still authorizing torture, assassination, and such?

As for the polling numbers, it seems people are fine when others are invaded, but not so happy when it happens to them. Mr Obama and his TSA: clumsy and probably deserving of the backlash coming their way. This episode needed more intelligence and planning. Or maybe it’s playing out the way it was intended. Would that be hysterical enough, Mr Winters?

Way back in the dark ages, people would occasionally request the romantic texts of  extra-Biblical authors for their wedding. There’s no poetry in Saint Paul, they would insist. (Except for 1 Corinthians 13.) Let’s read something really poetic.

My friend Jeffrey Tucker is touting the sequence Dies Irae as music that “which ought to be sung at any Roman Rite funeral.” My comment there is that singing the Dies Irae before the Gospel is like bringing filet mignon to a potluck supper where the host has prepared a nice chicken or fish dish. Or like inviting Khalil Gibran to your wedding. From many perspectives, we’re talking of adding beauty to a significant human and liturgical moment. Can that be wrong?

My own sense is that when placed at the funeral Mass, the Dies Irae functions as something of an anti-eulogy. It would certainly make its point, if translated. And if not, the chant is beautiful, certainly enough to render a limp proclamation of Scripture seem like week-old tuna salad making an appearance at that potluck.

That said, where do old sequences go when they’re no longer liturgical texts? I could see us return to singing sequences for Midnight Mass, Epiphany, the parish dedication anniversary. But not every funeral Mass a parish celebrates. That would violate a sense of progressive solemnity. Aside from post-Communion on the last Sundays of Ordinary Time or the First Sunday of Advent, I don’t have a place for them, do you? Office of Readings? Preludes? Concerts?