I am often guilty of trying to control everything, to take charge and fix what I see needs fixing on the strength of my own convictions and abilities. Since I’ve been quite opinionated the last two days on matters of liturgical music, I put this out as a reminder to all of us who feel passionately about liturgy–myself above all–that God is in charge, not me. That if I try to lean on my own understanding, I’m going to make things worse, not better.
Come, Holy Spirit. Sweep us along with you, and get us where You meant us to be all along.
This whole section of Evangelii Gaudium is talking about unity (as distinct from uniformity) and diversity. Bear with me, or better yet just go read it yourself, because it may seem strange that I’m zeroing in on liturgy.
Evangelii Gaudium says the message of the Gospel has been “closely associated with” some cultures, but that doesn’t mean the culture is essential to the message (117). “We cannot demand that peoples of every continent, in expressing their Christian faith, imitate modes of expression which European nations developed at a particular moment of their history, because the faith cannot be constricted to the limits of understanding and expression of any one culture.” (118)
127-8 talk about how for most of us, opportunities for evangelization come one on one in personal settings, and suggests how that might look–but then 129 warns against being slavish to a particular formulation. This opens up a discussion of the many and varied charisms within the Church, which brings us to this quote and the one I will share tomorrow.
So it’s not specifically about liturgy, but the liturgy wars demonstrate clearly the confusion between unity and uniformity–specifically as regards music. That final sentence: “This is not helpful for the Church’s mission,” is what ties it all back to evangelization. Liturgy is the source of our strength to go out and accomplish the Church’s mission of bringing people to Christ and unfolding the Kingdom on Earth, but if the summit of our faith is corrupted by bickering over guitar vs. organ and whether drums are actually part of the culture and whether pop styles are intrinsically inappropriate for liturgy–etc., etc.–if we’re pouring all our emotional energy into fighting over these issues, how are we supposed to evangelize anyone? More to the point, why would anyone want to join that Church?
In other words: “Not helpful for the Church’s mission.”
I want to spend a few days pondering liturgy. The Eucharistic celebration is the “source and summit” of our faith, which to me means it is the spiritual food that strengthens us for discipleship in the real world, and it’s also the purest expression of our faith, uncomplicated by the messiness we experience outside the walls.
Because we waste a lot of energy fighting about liturgy. My higher ed degrees are both in music performance, so I’m well steeped in classical music. But it’s contemporary music that lit me on fire and has shaped my Catholic identity as an adult.
So I react pretty strongly when people try to dismiss entire styles or instruments as “less worthy” or even “unworthy.” We all have things that speak to us more authentically and deeply than others. They’re not the same from person to person, because we are fearfully and wonderfully made, in diversity as wide as the creativity of God. We have no business trying to box in the Holy Spirit, Who inSpires across all eras, all cultures, and all artistic styles.
(Note: I am celebrating my 20th anniversary this week with a trip with my husband. As you can imagine, a work-at-home mother of 4 trying to pull off an anniversary trip means a LOT of logistical planning, so this week I’m sharing, unedited, a post originally published on my personal blog. The time references may not be contemporary, but the issues are definitely still with us.)
We are losing the youth–and everyone else who’s leaving organized
religion–because they think it’s a bunch of B.S. A conspiracy made to
pacify the ignorant and keep the masses in line. And why do they think
Because we call ourselves Christians, and we don’t act like Christ. We say we believe, but then refuse to act like believing changes everything. We talk big and then we talk trash about others. We act as if the aesthetics and the personal preferences are what it’s all about.
In simple language, we’re losing people because we’re hypocrites.
Even, and sometimes especially, those of us who are the most involved in
In every Catholic discussion, Vatican II seems to be the lightning
rod. Someone always says that whatever problem we were facing was caused
by V2 because it didn’t exist before that, and if only we went back to
the way things were fifty years ago, all our problems would go away. As
if somehow people were intrinsically holier then, instead of simply
doing what was culturally expected. Fifty years ago, people went to
church whether or not they really wanted to, not because they were
better Catholics, but because that’s what everyone did.
These days, church is not what everyone does, so people don’t do it.
And that’s not a change caused by Vatican II. That happened in the
context of a larger world. All matters of faith are lived in and
influenced by the context of the larger world, and that is as it should
be. We aren’t “of” the world, but we do live “in” it. We can’t possibly
hope to leaven the world if we stand apart and wag our finger at it. You
have to dive in.
I know that’s scary. Each of us has a vision for the way the world
should be, and it’s pretty cut and dried. But the world isn’t black and
white. It’s a complex, interwoven mess. You tug on one string and every
other one is affected. There are no simple solutions to any of the
issues we face.
The world is messy, and the more you get down in the muck, the more you realize your pat answers don’t–can’t–stand
unassailable in the face of the real world. You find yourself forced to
reconsider, to shift your dearly-held philosophies to make room for
circumstances that don’t fit neatly into the box you’ve made.
Nobody likes having to do that. But if you just keep confirming
yourself in your own rightness, it pretty soon becomes
self-righteousness, and self-delusion. And then your faith, strong as
you think it is, ends up ringing very false to others. They might not
know why, but they’ll sense the underlying conflict.
And then they figure, if this is what faith is, I don’t want any part of it.
We can’t ever stop seeking deeper truth. And that search is exercise for the soul. Like physical exercise, it hurts, because it begins with breaking down the boundaries of the muscle in order to make room for expansion.
But at its basic level, that spiritual exercise begins because we go out and we do something with our faith. It’s in the doing that we experience the things that challenge our presumptions and assumptions. Don’t tell me all the reasons it can’t be done. Do something about it. You may not succeed, you may fall flat on your face, but do something.
This is what Pope Francis keeps saying over and over. Sure, worship
is important, but worship is not the most important thing; worship
is the spiritual food for doing the real work of Christianity. Dosomething.
If all of us who call ourselves Christians heeded his call, it would be a game changer.