Which Way Are The Winds Blowing?

 

  Which Way Are the Winds Blowing? 

In his most recent article, Bishop Thomas John Paprocki of the Diocese of Springfield, Illinois made it known that he was going to return to the practice of saying the mass ad orientem i.e.,facing the altar, with his back to the assembly (the folks in the pews). His initial reasoning was that he didn't want to disrespect the grave of Bishop James A. Griffin by standing upon it, given how it is directly behind the altar following the great renovation of the Cathedral in 2010. While this seems to be a notable reason, the truth is that bishops, priests and even saints are laid to rest beneath the floors of many cathedrals throughout the world. As such, it's inevitable that people are going to step upon them in the course of a liturgy. 

Bishop Paprocki then went on to offer some theological and liturgical reasoning to legitimize his action. Most curious and somewhat disconcerting was how he created a dichotomy between facing one direction and the other. His practice thus is now the proper way of saying mass because facing the congregation is to be "putting on a performance for the people in the pews to watch, as if they were passive spectators." Wasn't the passivity of the laity the main reason the church (in the Second Vatican Council, 1962-1965) rather universally sought to have the presider turn to face the people? 

Regardless of what I or others may think about this practice that he encourages all within the diocese to adopt (even as there are no buried bishops to stand upon in other churches), the diocese is in a sense the car and the bishop holds the keys. It is within his power to make the call on adopting, dismantling, encouraging or disallowing any and all practices for the many. As I reflected upon this decision, it seems that it comes down to what each of us values and feels as the most faithful way to pray at such a revered celebration. 

In full disclosure, I'll share that one of my most favorite masses took place on the expansive lawn between dorms at Western Illinois University in August of 1985. Reverend James Rickey invited the Catholic students from each dorm to gather for “mass on the grass.” There in the wide-open spaces he assembled a small white plastic modular table and said mass as a means of welcome during the first week of school. As other students played Frisbee and sunned themselves nearby, I remember thinking how beautifully organic this Eucharistic meal was and how utterly connected I felt to God, to we who gathered and even those who recreated nearby. I developed a sense that Christ's presence was to be brought to others as a form of invitation to see and partake. It was a social action that implied that we were to become Christ's love to the world and to infuse this transformative love along the paths we took through life. 

When making such changes for worshipping Catholics, two prime realities must be considered. First and most importantly, how faithfully do these actions flow from the life of Jesus of the gospels? Do these actions draw others into a closer relationship with the Christ in such a way as to more deeply bond the believer with our saving Lord of justice, mercy and compassion? Does it create an orthopraxy (right practice) that aligns disciples with God's will for us as part of a living communion? Second, is this decision, that affects the many, one that came from the many? Using a more ecclesial term, is this decision one that springs from the sensus fidelium: one that has been realized and embraced by all of God's people who are together leaning in the direction of Spirit?  

As a tree is known by its fruits, so too will a decision be judged by how well it produces fruits within the faithful. If the bishop decides to take us back to the practice of the church from about 900-1965, we'll have to see if and how it enriches God's people in worship. Will it fulfill the great hope of Christian worship, Lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi?*  I'm going to predict that it will not and that such a decision will only encourage a small cadre of traditionalist members of today's church. Why do I support the practice of versus populum, i.e., facing each other? 

Pope Francis has called for the church to become a gritty field hospital that brings about what he calls a culture of encounter. “Frequently, we act as arbiters of grace rather than its facilitators. But the Church is not a tollhouse; it is the house of the Father, where there is a place for everyone, with all their problems.” (The Joy of the Gospel: Evangelii Guadium). Real human encounter happens when we're looking at each other: spouses who are working out their disagreements, board of directors making decisions, football players drawing together in team huddle and even through racial dialogues held via Zoom. Jesus was not a Jewish priest who ceremoniously faced away from people. He was known for his face-to-facing encounters with those whom he spoke with, prayed over and reached out to, using touch, mud, spit and breath.

Was the universal church somehow misguided when they wrote those words that more fully invited the laity into "full, conscious and active participation" in the liturgy at the very same time it called for the return to priests facing the people as had been done for the first eight or nine hundred years in the church? It is true that over the centuries, the great pendulum of church theology and worship has swung between too much adherence to the Divine back across to the fuller deference to the human. I do understand and respect the bishop's desire to draw the church into honorable worship-- but are we going back to Galilee in Judea or are we stopping and camping out in 1950's Chicago? 

* Lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi, is a motto in Christian tradition, which means that prayer and belief are integral to each other and that liturgy is not distinct from theology. It refers to the relationship