By James Baresel
A variety of scholars, thinkers and writers all along the spectrum opinion from the staunchest supporters of the Tridentine Mass to advocates of reforming the reform to those favoring preservation of the status quo to proponents of more radical changes frequently argue the same one point—that whatever they oppose is somehow “not liturgical.”
It would be hard to find a more bizarre argument. Regardless of the merits or demerits of particular practices, virtually everything criticized by these self-appointed sages is “liturgical” according to the literal definition of the word—a definition which sets a rather low bar for what qualifies as liturgical.
Just two criteria must be met. First, a liturgy must be dominated by a set formula of prayer. Some variety of set formulas from which to choose (as in the Missal of Paul VI) suffices for this. A limited place for mental prayer, an examination of conscience (as towards the beginning of Compline), and so on can also be included within the formula. Second, a liturgy must be in some juridic sense established as the official public rites of a religion. Wide variety can be found within these limits.
Prior to the pontificate of Pope Pius XI—when permission for the Dialogue Mass was given—the rubrics for Low Mass restricted making the responses to the servers, prohibiting the congregation from joining in. Much maligned by modern liturgists, that rubric was eminently liturgical—because it set forth how the congregation was to pray (interiorly) while attending the Church’s official ritual worship. Odd as a congregation holding hands during the Our Father may be, it can only be odd on the grounds of Catholic doctrine—the gesture itself being capable of inclusion in some other religion’s set formulas of prayer.
Similarly, many particular formulas of prayer can be either liturgical or non-liturgical based on juridic status. The Litany of the Saints is part of the liturgies for the Eastern Vigil and ordination Masses. The Litany of the Sacred Heart is not part of the liturgy—but could become liturgical by being incorporated into the Mass for the Feast of the Sacred Heart. Only the essential aspects of the Mass and sacraments are liturgical by their very nature rather than because of their inclusion in the Church’s official rites. (Questions of how far Church authorities can or cannot go in suppressing longstanding liturgical traditions are an unrelated matter, since the liturgical status of these traditions was itself established by Church authority.)
Academic as these points may seem, they are an essential corrective to the rather bizarre ideas which began to plague the Church a century ago and ultimately led to attacks on the traditional Roman rite and the present liturgical chaos.
For nearly two millennia, Catholic piety did not distinguish between a “liturgical way of praying” and a “devotional way of praying.” People prayed the same “way”—or in the same variety of ways—regardless of whether their prayers were juridically liturgical or juridically liturgical. Some might focus on the words, others on mental prayer—regardless of whether this meant meditating on the mysteries while reciting the rosary or a priest meditating on the crucifixion while reciting the words of the offertory. Some might be strongly aware of the presence of others—whether at Mass, adoration or a procession—and have their prayer aided by that awareness, others oblivious to those praying with them.
Early advocates of a greater focus on liturgical prayer—Saint Pius X and Dom Prosper Gueranger—encouraged that focus on the grounds of the liturgy’s verbal and ritual content and official status. Even if Dom Gueranger put too much emphasis on the liturgical texts, he simply assumed one would focus on these texts in the same “way” one might focus on the textual content of the rosary. Pius X made it clear that engaging in mental prayer or saying the rosary during Mass were legitimate alternatives to a focus on the liturgical texts. The idea that there could be one “way” of praying for liturgical prayer and another for devotional prayer would never have occurred to either of them.
Such an idea developed only towards the end of Pius X’s life—and it is this idea which undergirds recent notions of “liturgical piety” rather than the natural fact that some will have a piety more focused on liturgical texts, another a piety more focused on Our Lady, and so on.
One variant of it originated in Germany and surrounding areas—largely under the influence of (largely German-based) “continental philosophy.” Romano Guardini is the most widely read of its early advocates. Curiously enough, or not so curiously given the philosophical influences on it, those who put forward this idea never give us anything remotely like a definition of the “liturgical way of praying.” This is because, for them, “liturgical prayer” is not just an objective type of prayer. It is, rather, a combination of a nebulous “experience”—really just an emotional reaction—and an equally nebulous “attitude.”
Another variant, easily but not necessarily joined to the first, arbitrarily sets its own criteria for what is and is not “truly liturgical”—i.e. the claim that prioritizing weekday Masses of a liturgical season is more “liturgical” than prioritizing saints’ feast days, or the mid-twentieth century removal of the Hail Mary from the Divine Office on the spurious grounds that it is not a “liturgical prayer.” For this position, it is certain types of content or certain focal points of prayer—not juridic status—which makes prayer “liturgical.”
Unfortunately, both of these ideas have not just played roles in the liturgical “reform” or had a significant role in the reform of the reform movement—but they have also gained currency among some devoted to traditional rites of the Roman Church.
Hence some traditionally-inclined Catholics now insist upon the “experience of High Mass and the sung Divine Office”—appealing to a felt emotional reaction. Or they place an exaggerated and very untraditional emphasis on liturgical prayer—perhaps insisting on using a missal rather than praying in other ways at Mass, or trying to make the Divine Office standard for the laity rather than one among many options. Or they criticize “treating the liturgy like a devotion,” or advocate “making our devotions more liturgical rather than making the liturgy more devotional,” or constantly think through, rethink and then rethink again the relationship between liturgical and devotional prayer and how much of a proportional role each should be given.
Anyone who is not under the influence of the (for some) intoxicating influence of continental philosophy; anyone who rejects the idea that there are unique “experiences” specific to liturgical, devotional and mental prayer; anyone who recognizes that the only differences between these are the metaphysical differences separating the sacrifice of the Mass and the sacraments from other prayer, the difference between the juridic status of liturgical and devotional prayer, and the difference separating set formulas of prayer from mental prayer—in other words, anyone who understands this in the way Catholic traditionally did—will find the whole business absurd.
