His remarks came around the 60th anniversary of Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy that was issued during the Second Vatican Council (1962-65).

"'Go and prepare the Passover for us' (Lk 22:8): these words of Jesus,'" the pope said in his February address, "express the Lord's desire to have us around the table of his Body and Blood."

Significantly, gathering "around the table" is not an image of an auditorium or a lecture hall, it is one of intimate involvement around a banquet table.

No fan at a football (soccer) game wants to view the game from one end of a long, narrow stadium. And although we are not talking about football, but active participation in the Paschal Mystery, the same reaction is true.

In addition to some specific suggestions about formation for ministers, the pope noted that liturgical formation is not a "specialisation for a few experts, but rather an inner disposition of all the People of God".

He also referred to formation paths for the People of God and the concrete opportunity for formation that is offered by "assemblies that gather on the Lord's Day" and feasts during the year.

The beautiful Easter liturgies in which the global Church has recently engaged to celebrate the Paschal Mystery could not have been possible without the latest reform of the liturgy, now more than a century in the making.

Worship, thanks, and memory will never change. But due to the liturgical movement, the People of God have prayed in song and voice, and have celebrated the sacred mysteries, in their own language.

They have more actively and consciously participated in the source and summit of the Christian life than ever before.

Is that enough?

The vision of a distant priest praying almost privately at an altar affixed to a far wall with his back to the people, separated by all manner of architectural splendour and obstructions, is now a distant memory.

But the overhang from those days remains.

There is no doubting the essence of the sacred ritual and majesty that often attended the distant performance.

Nor can one diminish the reverence of the congregations that occupied pews far removed from the sacred action at the altar.

It is no wonder that "attendance at Mass" for many was an occasion of mostly private devotion with a focus on the reception of Holy Communion as the pinnacle of the sacred celebration.

But it is past time to centralise altars better, as the Council Fathers who crafted Sacrosanctum Concilium imagined.

It's time for churches to configure the altar table, the sign of Christ, so that, as Pope Francis asked the Dicastery for Divine Worship, the people truly are "around the table of his Body and Blood … so that we may together eat the Passover and live a Paschal existence, both personal and communal".

As Richard Vosko writes in God's House (Liturgical Press, 2006), "Catholic worship is not like a theatre or lecture hall.

"The liturgy demands active, conscious participation … A sociofugal seating plan (rows facing the front) does not work for our liturgy."

I sometimes imagine a host who invites guests to dinner and then sits at the end of the room. Clearly not the hospitality of the Lord Jesus, nor a basis for social action by the guests!

"We are not simply human beings; we are human interbeings and share in the interrelatedness of all cosmic life," says the American Franciscan theologian Ilia Delio.

While we recognise that in an increasingly secular society, we must more often step outside the brick walls (on the altar of the world, as the French Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin imagined), let's properly reflect our sacred celebratory unity when we are inside.

The altar, truly at the centre

What happened to the directives about the faithful being gathered around altars that are central?

The most recent General Instruction of the Roman Missal (no. 299) specifies that "the altar should, moreover, be so placed as to be truly the centre toward which the attention of the whole congregation of the faithful naturally turns".

That injunction is reflected in the official rite the Vatican issued in 1977 for the dedication of a church.

"Here may your faithful, gathered around the table of the altar, celebrate the memorial of the Paschal Mystery and be refreshed by the banquet of Christ's Word and his Body," it says in the prayer for dedicating the altar (Dedicationis ecclesiae, no. 62).

This has been the official position of the contemporary Church is since the time that Vatican II was still in session.

"It is proper that the main altar be constructed separately from the wall, so that one may go around it with ease and so that celebration may take place facing the people; it shall occupy a place in the sacred building that is truly central, so that the attention of the whole congregation of the faithful is spontaneously turned to it" (Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, September 26, 1964, Ch. 5, II, 91).

If we want to move people from spectators to real participants, in an assembly of unity, where they actively celebrate the sacred mysteries they need to have genuine connection as Pope Francis describes.

Proximity, space, light and actions that enhance involvement are all part of that equation.

Entrance procession with the Book of the Gospels, thoughtfully selected participants for the Offertory Procession, the Word proclaimed from a suitably located ambo, lectors who read well supported by good sound amplification, a good homily, trained acolytes, a sonorous choir which leads appropriately selected hymns, among others, all contribute.

The need to gather around the central altar is talked about but reluctance to actually make the move in most places stubbornly persists.

Let's delay no longer!

Need to advance awareness and to educate

But that's not all.

The presider will have to give much more attention to his part, in persona Christi, at the Lord's table and his communication by inclusive language with the co-celebrating congregation.

Artful presiding, as Paul Turner describes it in Ars Celebrandi (Liturgical Press, 2021), includes a real consciousness and the sense of the sacred that are intrinsic components of the celebration. There must be a focus on appealing to people to "grow in the awareness and joy of encountering the Lord (in) celebrating the holy mysteries", he notes.

The awareness and joy that Pope Francis highlights require pastoral education apart from a physical setting that encourages connection.

Ensuring congregations have a clear understanding of Eucharist is essential.

I suspect that the multifaceted elements of the gem which is the Eucharist remain elusive to older congregations who are steeped in old ways.

A proper understanding of the sign of unity and charity, the significance of the assembly of the congregation present as co-celebrants, joining in the thanks to God the Father, listening to the Word and being part of the real memorial of Jesus and the Paschal mystery may still have a way to go.

Because they are then called to go out as missionary disciples: not to suspend the celebration until next week.

How many understand, as Sacrosanctum Concilium says, that

"... in the liturgy full public worship is performed by the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, that is, by the Head and His members"?

Old misconceptions die hard, especially among Western congregations that have an aged demographic with strong recollections of old ways.

Fundamentally, communicants receive communion from the hosts consecrated at the Eucharist they are celebrating.

But this absolute essential is too often routinely breached in practice. No Eucharistic celebration should be make access to pre-consecrated from the Tabernacle. And where congregation size allows, communion from one loaf is most, even while recognizing the challenges involved in realizing this ideal.

Past reforms and those still needed

Reform of the liturgy has clearly contributed to reform of the Church.

Given we are no longer a Eurocentric Church that, in the West at least, serves a secular and increasingly entitled world, reform must continue by all participants.

The essentials of the Passover Meal that we memorialise are not the subject for reform, but how we celebrate as community is.

It is possible to enhance participation by ardently responding to people who seek engagement and active involvement in worshipping their God.

They do so for a reason.

Given the drift of young people away from regular attendance, a more engaging space, including the truly central location of the altar, will contribute to participation, as it will for all.

For too long have we suffered poor translation of key prayers, including the Eucharistic Prayers.

For example: "Consubstantial with the Father" in the Nicene Creed might sound meaningful for theologians, but it is not part of the language of the people.

Also the failure to move to gender-neutral language in the Lectionary given current parlance is plainly offensive to more than half the congregation.

A review of the Lectionary is, in my opinion, embarrassingly overdue.

How would Pope Francis have stimulated the world with Evangelii gaudium (Joy of the Gospels) to a people with poor knowledge of the scriptures?

How would they have responded to his incitement to embrace Jesus' call to missionary discipleship?

The idea of a synodal Church and the adoption of synodality by the whole People of God would have been unthinkable.

Others will have additional preferences for reform.

It would be instructive to hear what they are because the pope has raised this matter fairly and squarely.

He has called for action. In a synodal Church now is the time to register your suggestions.

• Justin Stanwix is a deacon at St Mary Star of the Sea Parish, Milton in the Catholic Diocese of Wollongong (Australia).
• First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.

After what has been labelled as a significant address, discussion took place against the backdrop of the dicastery's annual plenary assembly.

The assembly focused on enhancing the liturgical formation for clergy and laity in line with the teachings of the Second Vatican Council and the Pope's recent reflections.

This year marks the 60th anniversary of the promulgation of Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Council's foundational document on the liturgy, which set the stage for sweeping reforms intended to make the Church's rituals more accessible and meaningful to the faithful worldwide.

Pope Francis used this occasion to reiterate that genuine reform of the Church is impossible without a reinvigoration of its liturgical life.

"Without liturgical reform, there is no reform of the Church" declared the Pope. He outlined a vision of a Church that engages actively with its people's spiritual and pastoral needs, bridges divisions among Christians and proclaims the Gospel with renewed vigour.

During the address, Francis spoke passionately about the importance of priests' fidelity and their relationship with the Church.

Keen to animate the Church's mission in the modern world, Francis urged the Dicastery for Divine Worship to proceed in close cooperation with other Vatican bodies, such as the Dicastery for Culture and Education.

In affirming the centrality of the liturgy to the life of the Church and as a way of encountering Christ, he says the Dicastery's focus is to ensure the liturgical life of the Church is vibrant and a unifying force for Catholics around the globe.

Liturgy and church life a single coherent unity

"At its most profound level, Sacrosanctum Concilium articulates a renewed understanding of the Church, where the liturgy of the church and the life of the baptised form a single coherent unity.

"Sacrosanctum Concilium was the first Constitution issued by the Council, not only because of the decades-long research that preceded it and the liturgical reforms of Pope St Pius X and Pope Pius XII but, most importantly, according to Pope Benedict XVI, because the liturgical life of the Church is central to the very existence of the Church.

"2,147 bishops at the Council overwhelmingly approved Sacrosanctum Concilium" Dr Joe Grayland told CathNews recently.

Source

• CNA
• CathNews

Sixty years hence, we can reflect on the impact of this document on New Zealand's theological landscape and liturgical practices.

Sacrosanctum Concilium is the cornerstone of Vatican II because it addresses more than just ritual adjustments to the 1962 rites.

At its most profound level, it articulates a renewed understanding of the Church, where the liturgy of the church and the life of the baptised form a single coherent unity.

Sacrosanctum Concilium was the first Constitution issued by the Council, not only because of the decades-long research that preceded it and the liturgical reforms of Pope St Pius X and Pope Pius XII but, most importantly, according to Pope Benedict XVI, because the liturgical life of the Church is central to the very existence of the Church.

2,147 bishops at the Council overwhelmingly approved Sacrosanctum Concilium.

Only four voted against the Church's cornerstone document and the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy was promulgated by Pope St Paul VI on December 4, 1963.

Historical Snapshot

The journey of implementation unfolded gradually in New Zealand.

The bishops, cognizant of the sweeping changes, decided not to alter liturgical practices until the publication of the first Instruction on February 5, 1964.

Throughout 1964, New Zealanders, were kept abreast of liturgical developments through publications like Tablet and Zealandia, while the bishops prepared to implement the Mass in English.

On May 16, 1964, the decree permitting the use of English and Maori (vernacular) in the Mass reached New Zealand, outlining its application in parish Masses, Religious community Masses, and special occasions such as requiem and nuptial Masses.

A circular letter from the New Zealand bishops, dated July 10, 1964, further authorised changes in the Mass and extended permission for English in sacraments and funeral rites.

The final form of the New Mass was introduced on the First Sunday of Advent, 1970.

Throughout the late 1960s, religious women had been very prominent in the liturgical changes.

At the same time, they were exploring their original charisms under the guidance of Perfectæ Caritatis, the Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life (28 October 1965).

In New Zealand's four dioceses, some diocesan priests gave practical leadership to the reforms, many of whom used French, German, and English sources.

Most of these priests were associated with the St Paul's group at the National Seminary, Holy Cross during the 1950s which had been foundered by Basil Meeking, later Bishop of Christchurch, one of New Zealand's greatest advocates for the new Order of Mass (Novus Ordo).

In Christchurch, Bishop Brian Ashby displayed a nuanced approach to reform and emphasised practical ecumenism.

He established two commissions for Liturgy and Music with Fr Basil Meeking, playing a central role.

Indeed, Meeking was sometimes too Avant guarde in his approach.

There is much anecdotal evidence of his parish church resounding to the sounds of modern music long before this practice became popular.

And much to the horror and bewilderment of the majority of parishioners there was also the sight of liturgical dance.

In Auckland, Auxiliary Bishop, Reginald Delargey, emerged as the one who seamlessly embraced the reforms of Vatican II.

Delargey's enthusiasm came from his involvement with the Catholic Action or Cardijn movement.

Lay Catholic involvement was strong during this period of reform, especially from those involved in Catholic Action and the Young Christian Worker Movements.

Delargy's emphasis on the lay apostolate in theology and liturgy set him apart from Archbishop Listen (Auckland), Cardinal McKeefry and Bishop Sneddon (Wellington), and Bishop Kavanagh (Dunedin).

The Clergy and Laity

Both clergy and laity faced challenges transitioning from a rigid ritual practice of worship to one where the liturgy itself was seen as the principal way the Church does its pastoral work.

In short, the advent of Pastoral Liturgy.

Priests, accustomed to meticulous liturgical manuals, grappled with adaptability and laity, used to non-participatory forms of worship now had to adapt to praying the Mass and the sacramental rites with the priest.

Celebrating the Mass to the people (missa cum populo) for the priests meant facing the congregation and for the congregants, it meant seeing the priest presiding.

Consequently, altars had to be repositioned and lecterns introduced because previously the priest had read the epistle and Gospel at the altar.

Using our vernacular languages (English and Maori) was not new, but it was different, and new texts for shared proclamation had to be written and learned.

Although the "Dialogue Mass" with bi-lingual missals in Latin and English had been introduced in 1939, and Maori congregations had participated in the Roman Canon's prayers for the dead, these changes to language, posture and inclusion were significant.

As an example, our language changed from "going to hear mass" on Sundays to "celebrating the liturgy", or "celebrating the Eucharist" on Sundays.

"Liturgy", became a new word that, also, unfortunately, covered a multitude of mistakes as well.

Contemporary Context

Since the Council the voices for the reinstatement of the 1962 Roman Missal and the rites before 1962 became more strident, creating the so-called "liturgical wars", which as Pope Francis wrote in Traditiones Custodes, has led to a division in the church through their rejection of the Second Vatican Council as the Church's highest teaching authority.

Given this division, Pope Francis, guided by the bishops of the Church, abrogated the pre-Vatican rites and reserved permission to use them to the Holy See.

He did this to preserve the unity of the Church, through the use of the liturgical rites promulgated by Saints Paul IV and John Paul II.

Pope Francis has also offered Bishops' Conferences the opportunity to adapt liturgical rites further to local culture, language, and use.

This allows for the revision of many prayers in the current 2010 translation, excluding the Eucharistic Prayer.

The biggest danger to the New Zealand Church at present is the loss of 60 years of work towards a Church that is pastorally focused through liturgical prayer and responsive to the Signs of the Times.

Without this, the "self-revealing God" of the Scriptures and Tradition is replaced with devotionalism.

Many parish communities are endangered by laity and clergy who disenfranchise local communities through clerical structures and mentalities that belong more to the past than they do to the present.

Marking 60 years of Sacrosanctum Concilium is an opportunity to consider what the New Zealand Church has been through, tell the story, and ask those joining the Church to respond to this history in positive and life-giving ways.

• Dr Joe Grayland is a Liturgical Theologian and is currently a visiting professor at the University of Tübingen (Germany). He has been a priest of the Diocese of Palmerston North for nearly thirty years. His latest book is: Catholics. Prayer, Belief and Diversity in a Secular Context (Te Hepara Pai, 2021).

First, was the disappearance of Latin (which had become a de facto badge of identity for many Catholics), and the second was the fact that now the president of the Eucharistic assembly ‘faced the people.'

This was visually different, obvious, and - as is the way with that which we see with our own eyes - imagined to be self-explanatory.

‘He now faces us!' and ‘We can now see him and see what's happening!' were the comments at the time, and the whole church-building re-ordering programme was expressed in ‘turning round the altar so that the priest faces the people.'

For the ‘average person' not thinking about liturgy, theology, or the Vatican Council, this was what liturgical change was about: literally, a shifting of the furniture.

It is probably for this reason that those who are unhappy with the reforms of the Council imagine that if they can change back the furniture and make the language more Latinate as in the 2011 English-language missal, then they will have broken the symbolic heart of the renewal.

Is it about communication?

The new shape of the liturgical arena, the president facing the rest of the congregation, was presented at the time and is still most often presented today in terms of communication and the theory of communication.

The president could now be seen and heard, and this was perceived as a welcome development because it fostered understanding and comprehension (which it does).

This, in turn, was expected to lead to a deeper appreciation of the Eucharist (as it has to an extent that is not often acknowledged and in ways that were not expected).

However, this emphasis on being able to see the priest made him and his role in the liturgy central to the whole event - and this dynamic (one actor with an audience) is actually a hangover from the eucharistic spirituality that Vatican II set out to challenge.

Selling the reform short

But did those who implemented the reform in parishes sell it short?

Was it simply a matter of communications?

Perhaps it was something far more fundamental - indeed, was it such a fundamental aspect of the reform that neither they nor their congregations could take on board the rationale of the shift in one move?

Therefore, they ‘explained it' by simplification - and, in the process, traduced it?

This seems to be exactly what happened: in well-intentioned attempts to communicate ‘the changes' in the liturgy they opted to use ‘communication' as the rationale for the new physical arrangements, and once embarked on that road, then every arrangement had to explained in a similar fashion: it must be seen by all, all the time.

So why did Vatican II want the president facing others in the assembly and every building to have the ancient basilican arrangement?

The fundamental rationale of the reform was the renewed awareness of the early and patristic understanding of the assembly as gathered around the table of the Lord.

The Eucharist is many things, but in its fundamental form, it is a meal of eating and drinking, a banquet, a sacrum convivium, and its visible focus is the visible focus of a meal: a table.

We may interpret that table theologically as an altar - the table is ‘our altar' as distinct from the altar in the Jerusalem temple or the many altars found in ordinary homes in antiquity - but it is, in its own reality, first and last, a table.

The Lord gathers us at his table: there we discover his presence and bless the Father.

The table is at once in unity with our own tables - for a table is a reality of the ordinary world - and in union with the table of the heavenly banquet.

The table transcends the dichotomy, which is a false dichotomy for Christians, of the sacred and the profane: the domestic is the locus of the sacred.

This is a typical Greco-Roman altar found in Caesarea Philippi. Altars such as this one could be found in every building - including most homes - across the Roman world. Photo - Thomas O'Loughlin

A priestly people

The Lord has come to our table, we gather as a priestly people at his.

We can interpret the table in many ways, and interpreting it as ‘an altar' has been the most common, but our eucharistic thinking must start with what it is.

This use of the word ‘table' did, of course, produce allergic reactions to Catholics of an older generation: Protestants had the ‘holy table' or brought out a table for a ‘communion service'; we had ‘an altar' - and the physical object in a church-building was never referred to by any other name: it was an altar, and altars were for sacrifice!

But we still referred to ‘the mensa' in many of the rubrics; the shape never took on that of either an Old Testament nor a pagan altar; and it was expected that a vestigial four legs (just like the table I am writing upon) should appear as four columns or pilasters on the front of ‘the altar.'

There is only one problem with tables: you cannot just use them in any old way, they create their own space for us as dining animals!

How we humans behave

Let us imagine the smallest possible table gathering: two people meeting for a cup of coffee in a café.

Unless they are not focused on their own meeting - i.e. they want to watch a TV screen rather than talk to one another - they will take up positions opposite one another across the table.

The table creates a common space, a space for eating and talking and for sharing a common reality in a way that cannot take place when people sit side-by-side at a bar.

If you are alone, it is as easy to sit at a bar and eat, drink, read the paper or play with your phone as at a table (and you do not risk having a stranger sit opposite you); but if two people go to drink instant coffee or have a magnificent meal together, then they will face one another.

We watch each other eating, and around the table, we become a community - however transient - and not just two individuals.

This is also a space of deep communication between us as people: we can share our thoughts with our food, we can pick up all the richness of facial expression, tone, body language - and really communicate.

This is the communication we long for as human beings, not ‘the communications' of the media or of communications theory that is better described as information transfer.

The table is an intimate place - yet curiously, it is also a public space, a place of respect for one another (hence ‘table manners'), and a place where our humanity and our relations with other humans are enhanced.

The importance of the table is written as deep in our humanity as anything else: it is studied by behavioural scientists, anthropologists, and psychologists - but it suffices here to remind us of the references to tables in the Psalms (Ps 23:5; 79:19; or 123:3), the gospels (Mt 8:11; 9:10; 15:27; 26:7; 26:20 - and this is in just one gospel), and many early Christian stories.

The table is at the heart of our humanity and at the heart of our liturgy.

But what of a table with more than two people? The fundamental logic continues:

We arrange ourselves around the table and create roughly equal spaces between each other.

This continues until we have used up all the space around the table - and then, traditionally, we extend the table into the longer form we find at banquets, in refectories and messes, and even in domestic dining rooms where the table ‘pulls out' for those occasions when we have extra guests.

The Eucharist is our common table as Christians and our sacred table as guests of the Lord: it was to re-establish this fundamental table-logic that stood behind the changes of Vatican II.

The move in the president's direction was not that ‘he could face the people' in serried ranks of pews, nor be visible as a science teacher's bench must be visible to her class, nor as a lecturer on a podium - but so that if he stood at the Lord's table, everyone else could arrange themselves around that table as human beings do.

This seems impossible!

But is this not simply impossible?

How does one put hundreds of people at a packed Sunday Mass around a table?

People need to be in pews: which means that only the president can be at the table!

Well, first, the shift in the position of the table has been done in most buildings in a minimal way.

It was just ‘pulled out from the wall' rather than made the centre of space for the assembled banqueting community.

Second, in many places, it has been found possible to create a long table in an otherwise uncluttered space and arrange well over a hundred people to stand around it such that all could see they were gathered around the Lord's table.

And third, the Eucharist is a human-sized event - and a gathering of over a hundred should be considered very exceptional - as they were for most of Christian history.

However, it is important to note just how deeply set this reality of ‘being around the table' is within our tradition.

First of all, in the directions for gathering at meals that come from Jewish sources that are contemporaneous with the earliest Christian meals, we find that when the guests assembled, they had a cup of wine (‘the first cup'), and each said the blessing individually; then they went to the table, and there was another cup (‘the second cup') and now one person blessed for all.

The reason for the shift is explicitly spelt out: only when they were at the table were they a community, and so only then could one bless all.

Now think again about the Last Supper, the other meals of Jesus, the blessing of the cup in 1 Corinthians, or the ritual instructions for the community meals in the Didache.

Second, consider the words of the traditional Roman eucharistic prayer (Eucharistic Prayer I): Memento, Domine, famulorum famularumque tuarum et omnium circumstantium, … . A literal rendering (still too daring for translators!) supposes the arrangement of people that existed when the text was created: ‘Remember, O Lord, you male servants (famuli) and your female servants (famulae), indeed all who are standing around … '.

Could it be that the venerable Roman Canon assumes that the community, both men and women, are standing around the table of the Lord?

And third, we have from the patristic and early medieval periods directions for how the broken parts of the loaf are to be arranged on the paten, and these often assume that the arrangement around the paten's rim reflects the people around the table.

So, once again, table gathering is not a new ‘secular' or imported idea but a return to the depths of our own tradition.

A whole community gathered

If we start thinking about the new orientation not as ‘priest facing people' or ‘people looking at priest', but as the whole community gathered around an actual table we not only have a more authentic expression of the Eucharist, a deeper appreciation of the many prayer of the liturgy that suppose this physical arrangement, but we also how shallow has been our taking up of the reforms of Vatican II over the last half-century.

A fuller renewal, with a deeper appreciation of its inherent logic, is going to mean more shifting around in buildings a gradual exposure of the ideas so that people feel comfortable with them and see why we are abandoning the ‘theatre-and-stage' arrangements.

Moreover, and it will run into cultural problems in that many modern households do not eat together at a table at home and so lack a basic human experience upon which grace might build the community of the Lord's table.

A recent UK survey found that one in four households now have no dining table / kitchen table at which they take meals as a household - the human consequences for society are frightening!

Over the last few years there have been calls from some liturgists - including bishops and cardinals - for a return to the ‘ad orientem' position (i.e. president facing away from the assembly), while others, needing to reply to these calls, have tried to make out that the present arrangements are nigh on perfect!

But both the present arrangements of ‘the expert' being visible at his bench and pre-reformed notion of only one person at the table - in effect not facing the same way as the people, but turning his back on them and keeping them away from the table behind him and railings - are fundamentally flawed as being neither true to Christian tradition nor human nature.

If we think about how tables are part of our heritage, we might also appreciate why Pope Francis has insisted that there can be no question of going backwards as if the pre-Vatican rite and the current rite are simply ‘option.'

Sixty years ago, Sacrosanctum Concilium made a definite change upwards.

The theological bottom line is this: if the Logos has come to dwell among us (Jn 1:14), then every table of Christians is a place where one can rub up against him at one's elbow.

• Thomas O'Loughlin is a presbyter of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor-emeritus of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His latest book is Discipleship and Society in the Early Churches.
• His latest book is "Shaping the Assembly: How Our Buildings form us in Worship".

It was expected by most of the bishops that it would ratify a series of documents prepared by the curia covering a raft of issues - but in essence, this was seen as an exercise in tidying up a few loose ends that had been debated since 1870 - and the whole affair would be over by Christmas.

The expectation of many bishops as they arrived in Rome in early October was that the council would involve just that single trip.

Some suspected that the Feast of the Immaculate Conception on December 8 would be a most appropriate day on which such an event could end, and so the bishops (allowing some time to visit Gammarelli's, the papal tailors, for some new kit) would be home well before Christmas.

Those bishops expecting a short, rather technical council were right about one thing: it ended on the Immaculate Conception feast, except that they got the year wrong. It ended on 8 Dec 1965 - three years and four ‘sessions' later - making it the second longest council in the history of the western church.

Moreover, what we would now call its ‘outputs' - formal documents ranging from binding constitutions to messages of goodwill - dwarf in volume, range, and complexity the productions of any previous council.

‘The documents of Vatican II' is a hefty paperback!

Then, on 4 December 1963, came the first bombshell: Sacrosanctum concilium. The liturgy would change.

Now, sixty years on, we have enough distance to take stock of where we are in relation to it.

Mixed messages

Some months ago, Pope Francis annoyed many who express their great regard for pre-1969 liturgical practices.

Francis stated that they might be using those liturgical claims as an excuse for a much wider rejection of the teaching of Vatican II.

Such a rejection, the pope has made clear now in several documents, is simply not an option for Catholics.

This position is clear and consistent: an ecumenical council with the approbation of the Bishop of Rome is the highest teaching authority.

While one can find any number of individuals - and their websites - who disagree with the pope on this and who view Vatican II with a range of attitudes from being "a rant by trendy liberals in the ‘60s" to it being the demonic invasion "foretold in Revelation 12," the situation is otherwise when it comes to bishops!

However, to a man, they are staunch supporters of Vatican II and add a few footnotes to it in everything they write.

But, one suspects that for some of them, this is simply ‘the party line.'

In fact, we all know that for some bishops - and quite a number of presbyters and deacons - their acceptance of Vatican II is little more than ticking the obligatory box and expressing the right sentiments.

There are many who would like to skip the council as a blip, and, since that is impossible, give it as minimal an interpretation as they can.

Would it be good to face this?

The idea that all the bishops appointed or all teachers in seminaries in the last 60 years would be equally enthusiastic about the vision of Vatican II is, of course, an illusion, albeit a pious one.

Even the credal text of Nicaea in 325 - which was, after all, what we today would refer to as a ‘convergent text' - left many of its signatories wondering whether they had gone too far.

But Catholic episcopal unanimity is a deeply entrenched illusion that has been fostered with care since the time of the Reformation.

While Protestants, those ‘others,' might speak with many voices and have ever more divisions, we Catholics speak clearly with one voice and all in harmony with and under Peter.

That was the theory; and for many, that is still the theory, and it is just that: a theory.

One has but to read some of the pastoral letters of several bishops - and they are present in every episcopal conference - to see that there are ‘church parties' as alive and well in the Catholic Church as they are in every other Christian communion!

The same range of attitudes can be found among presbyters - and the tensions can be felt in any number of parishes.

The claim, plus those few quotes from Vatican II documents, is that Vatican II is wholly accepted.

The reality is very different.

This pretence is unhealthy.

In a way, Pope Francis, in pointing out that liturgical ‘preferences' were/are being used as an analogue for rejecting the council, has lanced a boil.

Perhaps the time has come for an open discussion of whether or not we accept, partially accept, or reject what was set in train by Vatican II.

This would require jettisoning the myth that we all think ‘with Peter,' but it might inject honesty and realism into many debates in our communion.

A couple of decades ago, we still imagined that a ‘few bad apples' - with reference to sexual abuse by clerics - could be dealt with ‘discreetly.'

Now we know it was not only morally wrong but a mistake.

We might learn from that mistake.

There are deep tensions over the legacy of the Council.

Within the church, there has been a great deal of laziness in regard to studying its implications and this results in confused messages and practices.

There are some whose theological vision and/or pastoral approach is tantamount to a rejection of Vatican II, and it might be healthy to bring this into the open.

Bringing it into the open would indeed be in line with the pilgrim People of God ecclesiology advocated by the council.

Moment or process?

Some years ago, there was a wonderfully vibrant debate at a conference of theologians.

The debate concerned whether Vatican II, and its subsequent enactments was to be construed ‘strictly' in terms of what is written in its documents or was to be seen as the beginning of a process that began with John XXIII, window-pole in hand, and then continued with ‘the spirit of Vatican II.'

The debate rumbled on from the lecture room to the meals to the evening relaxation - without a clear victor.

What did become clear was that this was a clash of hermeneutical perspectives.

It is a version of the question as to whether the US Constitution should be interpreted in terms of its original eighteen-century moment - and to accept ‘the mind' of the framers as a limitation - or whether it should be interpreted in the light of the evolution of society and needs.

Likewise, this is the question of whether a text - even a sacred one - somehow contains the truth or is to be seen as a momentary witness within a trajectory?

These distinctions often overlap with the social binary of ‘conservative' / ‘liberal', but they are not identical, nor can they be mapped one onto the other.

Does Vatican II condemn us to theological ‘culture wars'?

From another perspective, is it possible that there is a genuine conciliar hermeneutic within theology - or are these approaches a function of individuals' epistemology?

I am convinced that there is a conciliar, and strictly theological, hermeneutic that has to be applied - and has been applied historically - to conciliar judgements and that this approach has to map onto our theology of tradition rather than be justified by an appeal either to a particular view of what constitutes a right judgement, a criteriology, or to a wider position within jurisprudence.

The argument can be sketched out in this way.

The church is a community ‘stretching out' over time, and so we never experience more than our moment - a tiny ‘slice' of the reality, a still within a movie.

In this, our koinonia is fundamentally different from a political institution whose public commitment is to a set of rules and procedures.

A community - as a living organism - is constantly changing, both for better and for worse, and no moment can be considered ‘golden' or definitive.

The Spirit is ever active - and there was no moment of a divine ‘go slow' such as after the last canonical book was written, the last ‘apostle' died, or some event such as Christianity becoming a religio licita in 313.

The Spirit, celebrated as active by Luke at Pentecost in Jerusalem, was celebrated as equally active at the council in 1962, and will be celebrated as just as active in the synod in 2023.

Only at the eschaton will the community ‘possess the truth' and, meanwhile, over the whole of her life, the Church relies on the leading and guiding of the Spirit.

But the Church is also truly human - and like the Logos made flesh exists in history - and so the Spirit is a presence, not a mechanism.

Similarly, the object of our koinonia is not the community itself (such as is the case in a political or judicial body), but the mission entrusted to it, which it must carry out ‘in season and out of season' (2 Tim 4:2).

The community, therefore, does not know the exact parameters of its task tomorrow any more than it knew yesterday what are today's challenges.

God, and our following, is full of surprises!

Moreover, when the church reflects - in a local community, a regional synod, or ecumenically in a council - her ‘object' is always beyond definition.

When the church imagines that God, or the mystery of the Christ, or the mystery of salvation can be defined, she has forgotten the very first element of monotheism: the divine is always greater than can be imagined, and all our statements are momentary stutters.

We need to refine, renew, and re-invigorate them continually - once they get ‘stuck,' they rapidly lose their value.

We know this when we refuse to surrender to textual literalism or to confuse revelation with a book, but it is a temptation to falsehood that we must shun as an insidious virus.

If we freeze the moment of a council, we deny that through its dynamic influence, the Spirit might be active now in the Church.

Moreover, Nicaea was revisited by Constantinople, then by Chalcedon, then by any number of Western councils - until in the aftermath of Trent, we had one Christology being preached by the Jesuits - the Sacred Heart - and another by the Redemptorists - the Merciful Redeemer - and any number of combinations.

But these were at odds not just with one another but with the Nicene vision.

But we lived with this because each theology was a sincere attempt to get around the problems of late medieval scholasticism.

Our responses to the divine cannot be grasped in any one way.

Our expressions of our worship and its abstraction as teaching constantly evolves.

We never step into the same river twice, but there is a river for we live within it.

Vatican II was but a moment in the process, and being loyal to it (as to any council) is a dynamic affair of seeking out, in the Spirit, its spirit rather than its letter.

In this sense, it does not matter whether we are six or sixty years after Vatican II: this was the last time we came together in such a meeting, and so we must journey in its wake - far more elusive than its text - until there is another.

This constant journeying is not only what will allow us to grow towards a deeper life together within the Catholic Church but is the way forward in our relations with other churches.

… never deformed?

There is an adage that ‘the church is ever in need of reform but has never been deformed.'

This is similar to the dilemma of the washing powder brands who are always pitching ‘the new, improved formula' powder but are unwilling to admit that the older stuff was not as good as the competition and might even have been useless!

Three and half centuries of telling Protestants that they were mistaken when the said Rome had lost its way (e.g. in using an academics' language for worship), and nine centuries of telling the East that there was no basis for their complaints about what the west did in either practice (e.g. introducing unleavened wafers at the Eucharist) or theology (e.g. adding ‘and the Son' to the creed) had left their mark.

When Vatican II wanted to introduce changes, it felt compelled to do so while insisting that there was nothing wrong with what was already there!

This, perhaps naturally, produced a reaction to the council's innovations akin to the mechanics' maxim: ‘if it ain't broke, don't fix it!'

If something was ‘fit for purpose' one day, why was it unfit the next?

And, if the council's teaching was the polar opposite of what went before (e.g. Unitatis redintegratio (1964) compared with Mortalium animos (1928)), then were we wrong then [i.e. in the old position] or are we wrong now [i.e. having changed it]?

The position was, and is, made more confusing in that in most documents - indeed, in texts still being written - there is a lengthy praise of the older position to show, ingeniously, that nothing has changed.

The effect of this strategy - saying nothing has changed [when it has] and we have never erred [when we must have or we could not have had to make such drastic changes] - is dispiriting and, more perniciously, generates a suspicion that it is but a game of words or ‘the fashion' of those in office.

It would be far better both for our appreciation of the Council and its changes, and for our ongoing relationships with other churches if we just put our hands up and confessed: yes, we did get things wrong in the past, confusions and bad practices did embed themselves, and for every development of doctrine and practice that we find valuable there was a another that is corrupt.

Only when openly asserting our inherited defects can we appreciate that change was needed and that the result is a true reform.

Moreover, as a conscious attempt ‘to renew all in the Christ' (Eph 1:10), Vatican II is more than just an option.

In short, after 60 years, implementing Sacrosanctum concilium is still very much a work in progress.

• Thomas O'Loughlin is a presbyter of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor-emeritus of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His latest book is Discipleship and Society in the Early Churches.
• His latest book is "Shaping the Assembly: How Our Buildings form us in Worship".

The Lectionary includes the scripture readings for Mass and the sacraments.

The Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments has confirmed approval for the updated Lectionary.

Cardinal Arthur Roche, Prefect of the Dicastery, has written to Cardinal Vincent Nichols confirming the new Lectionary's translation.

Nichols is Archbishop of Westminster and President of the Catholic Bishops' Conference of England and Wales.

The new translation was made in collaboration with the Bishops' Conference of Scotland.

"The use of the English Standard Version - Catholic Edition, already in use in India, along with the Abbey Psalms and Canticles, will help to ensure that the Word of the Lord reaches God's holy people without alloy" says Roche.

"The collaboration of the Episcopal Conference with the Bishops' Conference of Scotland is another notable feature of this project which highlights the importance of different episcopal conferences within a small geographical area working together for the overall good of the Catholic population in the British Isles.

"What has now been achieved ensures that a stable version of the Lectionary will endure in Great Britain for years to come. Both Conferences are to be commended for this cooperation."

The Lectionary was revised after advice from the Second Vatican Council.

Paragraph 51 of the Second Vatican Council document, Sacrosanctum Concilium, says: "The treasures of the Bible are to be opened up more lavishly, so that richer fare may be provided for the faithful at the table of God's word."

Welcome change

Archbishop Emeritus George Stack of Cardiff is welcoming the dicastery's ‘confirmatio' for the Lectionary:

"As we mark the sixtieth anniversary of the Second Vatican Council we can see that the Lectionary is one of the great fruits of the Council.

"It fulfils the mandate of the Council Fathers to open up the scriptures for the faithful so that Sunday by Sunday Christ himself speaks to us in the word.

"The new Lectionary gives us an opportunity to hear that word with fresh ears as we engage with a text which is intended for public proclamation and reflects up-to-date biblical scholarship.

"I hope that parishes and other communities will engage in preparation for the Lectionary so that all the faithful will hear the word of God with deepened faith and understanding."

The new Lectionary will be published by the Catholic Truth Society (CTS).

Source

• Universe Weekly

Indeed, the reverse is the case: bishops and presbyters around the world have said that it is merely a matter of words. After all, women have been reading for years at the liturgy - so calling them ‘lectors' is just a needless formality!

Women have been presenting the gifts for just as long, altar servers are less important now than when they had to ‘answer' the Latin uttered by the presider, and the other few jobs like holding the book or swinging the thurible have been done by women for decades!

So why all the fuss?

It seems that the pope and the people in the Vatican must have little work if they want to now have a rite of installation so that men and women can do these things ‘officially.'

In short, for most people, Spiritus Domini is non-news.

I beg to differ.

Spiritus Domini is news, and the fact of the lukewarm reactions is also news.

Let me deal with the apparent dismissal of Spiritus Domini first.

The fact that we think of liturgical ministries as just ‘the jobs' that were shared out by servers is a litmus test of how little we have internalised the vision of the liturgy that was put forth in Sacrosanctum Concilium in 1963.

That is a vision of the whole people ministering to one another in differing ways.

We are to be ‘wholly celebrant.'

Likewise, it shows how little the vision of the Church as the holy people of God - as distinct from the officers and ‘other ranks' model in use before then - found in Lumen Gentium has actually embedded itself in the ways we behave.

I hear many people who say ‘Vatican II has gone too far'; but when I look around I notice how shallow is the realisation of Vatican II in the lives of so many Catholics.

Spiritus Domini is a concrete expression of the change from the inherited mindset to that which was / is envisaged in the Council.

We are not just consumers of a sacred product that is in the keeping of the clergy.

We are a people, a family of sisters and brothers in baptism, who have been given a variety of gifts by the Spirit of the Lord so that we might become more fully the Church.

Or, as Pope Francis put it in the document's opening words: ‘The Spirit of the Lord Jesus, the perennial source of the Church's life and mission, distributes to the members of the People of God the gifts that enable each one, in a different way, to contribute to the edification of the Church and to the proclamation of the Gospel.'

Acolyte vs. Altar Server

Now to the main question: how is an ‘acolyte' different from an ‘altar server'?

The confusion is a deep one for Latin Christians because it is founded in over 1000 years of ignoring the issue.

Once the standard form of Eucharistic celebration in the western churches became that of a priest standing alone at an altar and celebrating in Latin, a major gulf emerged between those who were ‘in attendance' - but actually had nothing to do in the liturgy as such - and the priest who said the Mass.

The priest was the one who was active, the others were passive.

The priest said the Mass, the congregation listened, watched, and prayed their own prayers.

It mattered little if there was just one person in the building or several hundred or, indeed, several thousand.

However, there had to be at least one person there!

This person - always a male and usually a boy - was needed to serve the priest.

If the priest said ‘Dominus vobiscum' - we shall pass over the irony that this is a plural: the Lord be with you, even if he said it in a building with only the server present - then someone had to answer: ‘Et cum spiritu tuo.'

Put another way: it took two to tango!

The server was there to serve the priest.

The priest needed this service and it did not matter what was happening with other people who were present.

Indeed, it was assumed that the server probably did not know what the words he uttered meant - so long as they were uttered in response, the law was fulfilled, and the priest could say his Mass.

Least we forget

The important thing was that the priest could offer Mass, and the server was only a practical requirement somewhat in the way that vestments, books, and vessels were needed for the lawful celebration.

But did not the altar servers have a duty to the community?

The simple answer is: no!

On the few occasions each year (before 1903) when communion was given to the congregation, the server held a plate under the chins of the recipients (in some places).

Indeed, since communion for anyone but the priest was an additional element to the standard form of the Mass, it would have been rare that the server even received communion at the Mass he served.

The whole task was to help the priest.

Indeed, in an emergency, the answering could be done by a woman who knelt at the altar rails (but could not go inside ‘the sanctuary' to bring up and down the cruets or wash the priest's fingers).

Acolyte serves the whole community

The rite of Vatican II assumes that the community is celebrating with the presbyter presiding: it is an act of the assembled church and now the acolyte is there to help and serve the whole community.

The acolyte is one ministry in a church of mutual service.

It is not a job but a form of service that builds up the whole people of God - and this is its dignity and why it needs to be taken seriously and needs to be instituted.

The altar server served the priest in the priest's work before God.

The acolyte serves the community in the whole community's work before God.

The world of the alter server is that of the two-tier world of cleric / lay; minister / ministered; master / servant - a one-way transaction.

The world of the acolyte is that of a community, equal in dignity, serving one another, all are ministers and ministered to - and a sharing of energy and skill rather than a transaction.

In the first case, all that was needed was a voice that could recite Latin by rote.

Today, we have one Christian serving her / his sisters and brothers in a common work which they, collectively, see as the centre and summit of their lives as Christians.

One was a task which just had to be got through so that the priest said Mass.

The other is a celebration that affirms who we are as people who serve each other in different ways.

So what is the importance of Spiritus Domini?

• We are undoing a 1000-year old clericalist liturgy.
• We are affirming the dignity of our baptism which has made us a priestly people.
• We are learning that we must all be servants of one another at the liturgy.
• We are moving from seeing actions in our worship as ‘things needing doing' to assisting we one another as disciples.
• We are embedding - after more than half a century - the vision of the Second Vatican Council.

In a nutshell

• We are not changing our rubrics, we are changing our mind-sets.
• We are not changing technical names, we are changing our theology and our practice.

• Thomas O'Loughlin is a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton, emeritus professor of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK) and director of the Centre of Applied Theology, UK.
• He is an organising contributor to the online conversation Flashes of Insight and his latest book is Eating Together, Becoming One: Taking Up Pope Francis's Call to Theologians.