For those too young who might otherwise miss the reference, the great diva, Montserrat Caballé, |
My recent posting on how the
view of Liturgy as reenactment has permitted the Liturgy, and particularly the usus antiquior, to devolve into “sacred theatre” has garnered
quite a response and I want to consider some of those responses in postings and
not simply in the comments section. Lets
begin by looking at this comment:
While I too abhor
the "liturgy as theater" model with which the Krazies are so enamored
(and one might note here that the former rite tends to appeal to profoundly
introverted and authoritarian psychological types who eschew the kind of
interaction you note the present rite expects of its participants) I think
there is plenty of this in the reformed liturgy, at least as it is often
celebrated. I am thinking especially of the clerical divas who think of
themselves as center stage and the stars of the show. I think too of
narcissistic cantors who make sure their voice is amplified by sound systems so
as to drown out everybody else's. I also have in mind the entertainment model
that choirs and music ministers so often promote -- where applause is the sure
sign the audience appreciated their performance. Then there is the endless
supply of gimmicks employed to warm up the crowd and maintain their attention,
on display especially when homilists decide to get folksy and creative.
I have to agree that I know
what you are talking about and the problem of liturgy as theatre is not limited
to the Traditional Rites. I am fortunate
in as that I have been able for most of the last however many years ordinarily
to avail myself of worship with a religious community with a strong
contemplative tradition. The liturgies
tend to be profoundly prayerful and ordinarily devoid of any pomp much less the
sort of exhibitionism the reader refers to.
I tend to forget what sometimes goes on in some parishes and with some
priests. That being said, good liturgy
often draws on the theatrical arts in a non-self-conscious way. I think of the beautiful and prayerful
liturgies at the Abbey of Gethsemane in Kentucky. In my occasional moments of
distraction I have noticed the normally inconspicuous monk who works the
discreetly located light board—the same sort of light board that one finds in a
theatre—to subtly change the focus of the lighting from altar to ambo to the Icon
of the Mother of God or wherever our attention is to be drawn at that point of
the liturgy. I think too of the care
with which a vase of flowers is placed to give an unstated emphasis. The abbey church itself is a splendid
performance space that allows for processional movement and where the eye is
drawn and the mind soothed by the natural light coming through the windows and
playing on the walls and floor. The
uniformity of the monastic cowls and their graceful draping even portly figures
is brilliant costuming. The various
“props” (processional cross, altar candles, sacred vessels, etc.) are
understated and do not draw attention to themselves. There are times when the
singing is limited to the monks or instrumental music is provided by the organ.
But for all that “theatre” the prayer
still demands a “full, conscious, and active” participation of all
present. There aren’t performers and audience. Just as in any piece of theatre, not all
actors are always moving and always in voice but all are essential to the
drama. One may have a leading role
(presider, abbot) or simply be a member of the chorus but you never feel like
an “extra.” Somehow each person there is
essential to the celebration.
So I guess I am not saying
that liturgy should not be theatre, but rather it should not be the sort of
theatrical performance in which some entertain others, whether that is the
folksy presider chatting his way through Mass like Conan chatting up his
audience on late-nite or it be Cardinal Burke ascending the altar like
Montserrat Caballé as Tosca ascending the parapet to throw herself off.
For what it is worth, there are some traditionalists who do share your concern. Take a look at the following article: http://www.crisismagazine.com/2012/the-traditional-mass-is-not-a-spectator-sport
ReplyDeletethanks for this lead. While I am not a fan of the Traditional Liturgy per se, I would feel quite comfortable in this setting as my real beef isn't the Liturgy, it is the ecclesiology the Liturgy expresses. Like the one person noted, I would choose this liturgy over a "low mass" or even the typical weekday morning novus ordo routine where the liturgy is reduced to sheer and mindless function.
ReplyDeleteIn our contracted-out and industrialized world, we lose a lot of the context of liturgical ownership that would have been felt in past centuries. I work at a very blue-collar parish, introverted, un-confident, and many, especially of the old guard, simply think that no one wants to hear them sing; and at 65 years on they're not going to be convinced. But, back in the day, one hears stories of parishes being built of bricks made by the parishioners themselves, and erected by the meanest and the wealthiest alike. All of those "props" and the "set" were not clericalist posturing, but rather the community's own contribution to dignifying, as they saw it, the worship of God, which was felt to require a certain objective splendor.
ReplyDeleteA modern priest who breaks the parish budget to procure a zillion brass candlesticks in order to "educate" his congregation is, of course, not in this spirit at all. But we have lost the culture of taking ownership of the liturgy by contributing to it when it's not going on (how painfully obvious in most parish settings when it comes to finding volunteers to clean or decorate the Church), while arriving at no real consensus about how to take ownership of it while it is being enacted; there will always be those who don't sing. Who can't sing. But just because you're silent, that doesn't mean you are a mere spectator. It is, after all, a spiritual thing going on, an offering, and you can offer as well as the next person, even in silence, helped and moved by the context of beauty and the proclamation of the Word in a dignified way to do so.
Just a different lens is all it takes...