Originally posted by Administrator:

Quote:

Father Thomas wrote:
As explosive as the new translation issue has been, we are nonetheless still hovering within the safer zones of rubrics and translation. Is this because we are afraid to enter into the real renewal that is needed?

I’m not sure what Father Thomas is suggesting here. Can he please clarify what he means about real renewal?

Originally posted by Joe T:
"Re-arranging the deck furniture of the Titanic will not be the answer to saving the ship and lives!

Father Deacon Lance wrote:
[The Latin Church is] certainly not going back to reciting the Anaphora silently.

Father Deacon Lance wrote:
Are you able to realize that the right thing is the right thing whether Latins correct it first or we do? We baptize by immersion, it is the better practice, and the Latins have adopted it. The Anaphora aloud is the better practice and we are adopting that. I don't want to continue a less beneficial practice simply because the Orthodox haven't corrected it.

Originally posted by Administrator:
If this new liturgy (texts and rubrics) is ever mandated nationwide I am sure it will be appealed to the Holy Father. Given that Rome has granted RC priests the right to pray the 1962 version of the Latin Mass and that (as Father Serge noted) there is no mandate for Roman Catholics to pray the Anaphora out loud I am sure that the Holy Father will grant individual Byzantine Catholic priests and parishes the right to follow Byzantine tradition.

“The Spirit of the Liturgy” by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI):

”In 1978, to the annoyance of many liturgists, I said that in no sense does the whole Canon always have to be said out loud. After much consideration, I should like to repeat and underline the point here in the hope that, twenty years later, this thesis will be better understood. Meanwhile, in their efforts to reform the Missal, the German liturgists have explicitly stated that, of all things, the Eucharistic Prayer, the high point of the Mass, is in crisis. Since the reform of the liturgy, an attempt has been made to meet the crisis by incessantly inventing new Eucharistic Payers, and in the process we have sunk farther and farther into banality. Multiplying words is no help – that is all too evident. The liturgists have suggested all kinds of remedies, which certainly contain elements that are worthy of consideration. However, as far as I can see, they balk, now as in the past, at the possibility that silence, too, silence especially, might constitute communion before God. It is no accident that in Jerusalem, from a very early time, parts of the Canon were prayed in silence and that in the West the silent Canon – overlaid in part with meditative singing – became the norm. To dismiss all this as the result of misunderstandings is just too easy. It really is not true that reciting the whole Eucharistic Prayer out loud and without interruption is a prerequisite for the participation of everyone in this central act of the Mass. My suggestion in 1978 was as follows. First, liturgical education ought to aim at making the faithful familiar with the essential meaning and fundamental orientation of the Canon. Secondly, the first words of the various prayers should be said out loud as a kind of cue for the congregation, so that each individual in his silent prayer can take up the intonation and bring the personal into the communal and the communal into the personal. Anyone who has experienced a church united in silent praying of the Canon will know what a really filled silence is. It is at once a loud and penetrating cry to God and a Spirit-filled act of prayer. Here everyone does pray the Canon together, albeit in a bond with the special task of the priestly ministry. Here everyone is untied, laid hold of by Christ, and led by the Holy Spirit into that common prayer to the Father which is the true sacrifice – the love that reconciles and unites God and the world.” (pages 214-216)

Originally posted by carson daniel lauffer:
Joe,

The deck chair cliche was certainly cute several years ago but how are you applying it in the present situation?

CDL

Originally posted by carson daniel lauffer:
Joe,

The deck chair cliche was certainly cute several years ago but how are you applying it in the present situation?

CDL

An ancient legend about the origins of Christianity in Russia relates that when Prince Vladimir of Kiev was in search of the true religion for his people, there came before him, one after another, the representatives of Islam from Bulgaria, the representatives of Judaism, and the envoys of the Pope from Germany. Each proposed their faith as the right one and the best of all. It is said, however, the Prince remained dissatisfied. He only reached a decision, the story goes, when his own envoys came back from Constantinople, where they had attended a solemn liturgy in the Church of Santa Sophia. They were full of enthusiasm, the legend says, and said to the Prince: "When we came to the country of the Greeks, we were brought to where they celebrate the liturgy for their God... We do not know if we were in heaven or on earth... We experienced that there God dwells among men..." This story is, as it stands, certainly not historical. The adherence of the "Rus" to Christianity and the definitive decision to associate itself with Byzantium occurred through a long and complex process, the main outlines of which modern scholars feel they have been able to retrace with some exactitude. But, as always, this legend carries within it a profound nucleus of truth. In fact, the inner power of the liturgy, without a doubt, played an essential role in the spread of Christianity. Even beyond this general connection between liturgy and mission, however, the legend of the liturgical origin of Russia's conversion to Christianity tells us something even more specific about the inner connection between the liturgy and Christian mission.

THE BYZANTINE LITURGY WAS NOT "MISSIONARY"
In fact, the Byzantine liturgy which so moved the Russian visitors in search of God, was not in and of itself, missionary. It was not an interpretation of the faith addressed to those on the outside, to non-believers, but was rooted entirely within the faith. In the Acts of the Apostles, there is a passing reference to the fact that St. Paul celebrated the Eucharist with the Christians of Troas "in the upper chamber" (Acts 20:8). The early Christians connected this "upper chamber" in a way that seemed to them entirely obvious with the fact that the disciples, together with Mary, waited in prayer and received the Holy Spirit in the upper room (Acts 1:13) after the ascension of the Lord. This upper room in its turn was identified--and this was historically correct--with the room of the Last Supper, in which Jesus had celebrated the first Eucharist with the Twelve. The upper room became the symbol of the internal gathering of the faithful, of the capacity of the Eucharist to enable one to transcend ordinary daily habits. The upper room thus came to express the "mystery of the faith" (1 Tim 3:9; cf 3:16), at the center of which stands the Eucharist. The Roman liturgy inserted this acclamation "the mystery of the faith" into the narration of the institution of the sacrament. In so doing, the Church made the acclamation a constitutive part of the central Eucharistic event. In this way, the Church correctly interpreted the primitive Christian heritage: the Eucharistic liturgy, as such, is not directed toward the non-believer, but, as a Mystery, presupposes an "initiation": only someone who has entered into the mystery with his life can participate in it; someone who knows Christ from the outside only, like "the people," whose opinions Peter refers to the Lord near Caesarea Philippi just before his Christological confession (Mark 8:28), cannot participate in it. Only he can communicate with Christ in the Sacrament who, in the communion of faith, has already reached a profound agreement and understanding with Him. Let us return to our legend. What persuaded the envoys of the Russian Prince that the faith celebrated in the Orthodox liturgy was true was not a type of missionary argumentation whose elements appeared more enlightening to listeners than those of other religions. Rather, what struck them was the mystery as such, the mystery which, precisely by going beyond all discussion, caused the power of the truth to shine forth to the reason. Put in a different way, the Byzantine liturgy was not a way of teaching doctrine and was not intended to be. It was not a display of the Christian faith in a way acceptable or attractive to onlookers. What impressed onlookers about the liturgy was precisely its utter lack of an ulterior purpose, the fact that it was celebrated for God and not for spectators, that its sole intent was to be before God and for God "euarestos euprosdektos" (Romans 12:1; 15:16): pleasing and acceptable to God, as the sacrifice of Abel had been pleasing to God. Precisely this "disinterest" of standing before God and of looking toward Him was what caused a divine light to descend on what was happening and caused that divine light to be perceptible even to onlookers. We have, in this way, already reached a first important conclusion regarding the liturgy. To speak, as has been common since the 1950s, of a "missionary liturgy" is at the very least an ambiguous and problematic way of speaking. In many circles of liturgists, this has led, in a truly excessive way, to making the instructive element in the liturgy, the effort to make it understandable even for outsiders, the primary criterion of the liturgical form. The idea that the choice of liturgical forms must be made from the "pastoral" point of view suggests the presence of this same anthropocentric error. Thus the liturgy is celebrated entirely for men and women, it serves to transmit information--in so far as this is possible in view of the weariness which has entered the liturgy due to the rationalisms and banalities involved in this approach. In this view, the liturgy is an instrument for the construction of a community, a method of "socialization" among Christians. Where this is so, perhaps God is still spoken of, but God in reality has no role; it is a matter only of meeting people and their needs halfway and of making them contented. But precisely this approach ensures that no faith is fostered, for the faith has to do with God, and only where His nearness is made present, only where human aims are set aside in favor of the reverential respect due to Him, only there is born that credibility which prepares the way for faith. It is not necessary for us here to take into consideration all the various ways and possibilities of mission, which certainly must often begin with very simple human contacts, always illuminated by enough at present to affirm that the Eucharist as such is not immediately oriented toward the missionary reawakening of the faith. The Eucharist is located rather within the faith and nourishes it; it gazes primarily upon God and attracts men and women by means of this gaze. It attracts them through the divine condescension, which becomes their ascension into communion with God. The liturgy seeks to please God, and to lead men and women to consider pleasing God also the criterion of their lives. And, from this point of view, the liturgy is certainly and in a very profound sense the origin of mission.