Viewpoint
Footnotes that determine history
By KATHLEEN MacINNIS
KICHLINE
Every Catholic sitting in a pew, as
well as those who have not visited a pew for years, has been affected by
headlines about clergy sex abuse. While this church scandal has been heralded
by Time and Newsweek, our future may be more influenced by a much
more obscure publication, The General Instruction on the Roman Missal.
This liturgical document is the American bishops’ adaptation
of the most recent instructions from Rome on how we are to worship at Mass.
Compared to the newsworthiness of a sex scandal, it may seem a relative
footnote. But its potential for our experience of church is enormously
significant. With the church, as in life, seemingly unrelated events rarely are
unrelated. Underlying currents have a way of stemming from common sources.
For those Catholics who are not current on liturgical documents,
this new general instruction defines the rubrics for eucharistic liturgy, the
“etiquette,” if you will, of our coming together at the family table.
As such, these instructions may seem rather insignificant. But liturgy, by its
nature, is highly symbolic of our deepest values and always significant.
Passages from the General Instruction that are the most
controversial include: (29) The homily may be given by the priest celebrant, by
a concelebrating priest, or even by a deacon, “but never by a
layperson”; (82) in order to avoid a disruption to the rite, the priest
may exchange a sign of peace only with others in the sanctuary (162);
extraordinary ministers of holy Communion come to the altar only after the
priest has received Communion and always receive from the priest the vessel
that contains the Blessed Sacrament that they will distribute. The distribution
of consecrated hosts and wine to sacred vessels is reserved to the priest or
deacon.
There is even the directive to extraordinary ministers of holy
Communion that “the blessing of children or infants should not be
encouraged while distributing Communion.”
The most observable changes would be at Communion time. The priest
will no longer be free to leave the altar and exchange the sign of peace with
his people. Instead he will be kept busy at the altar performing those duties
at which ministers of Communion previously assisted and are now prohibited.
While this denies a form of participation to both the layperson and to the
priest, there is no doubt but that many clergy particularly feel the pain of
separation in this new directive. Said one priest after hearing the new norms
explained at a diocesan meeting, “It’s like Black Friday. This is the
darkest day of my priesthood.”
One of the most observable changes of Vatican II was the removal
of the Communion rail that separated the priest from the people. With one
stroke of the pen it has now been reinstalled. No longer made of plaster or
wood, it is now a psychological barrier that confines the priest to the
sanctuary the way an invisible fence keeps a collie in the yard.
At the very time when our priests most need the affirmation and
support of their people, when they need to be allowed to be human, that is what
is being denied. It was cutting priests off from human contact that caused the
headline crisis in the first place. Now that separation is being liturgically
ritualized.
Vatican II inspired and encouraged the laity to live out the
fullness of their baptismal call. Various roles as liturgical ministers came
out of that invitation. Now it would appear the emphasis is not to be on the
role of and nature of the baptismal call but, rather, on the unique nature of
the ordained priesthood. There may be some priests and others who welcome this
being “set apart,” who see the Eucharist as less profaned when
touched only minimally by nonordained hands. Stressing the
“otherness” of priesthood and setting it apart from the rest of human
experience may be seen by some as a way of shoring up the crisis of vocations,
but it hearkens back to a dangerous mentality.
As for the Liturgy of the Word, relatively few Catholic parishes
have had the experience of qualified lay preaching over these last few years.
But for those who have, that experience has opened up new and exciting
possibilities. For the most part, these persons have been extended the
privilege of preaching by virtue of their ability and giftedness. They are
usually well versed in scripture, which is why they were invited to the ambo in
the first place. If anything, they have raised the caliber of preaching in the
Catholic church. The argument is not even being made that sermons by a priest
are intrinsically better, more inspiring or doctrinally correct. What is there
about the nature of priesthood that defines the charism of preaching? One
cannot help but suspect that this, too, is about the emphasis on priesthood as
a higher calling.
Unfortunately for the church, if reflection upon the Word of God
remains solely the province of celibate males, much of human experience is not
being brought to bear upon scripture’s meaning. At a time when we most
need to hear that the word of God is relevant and powerful in our lives, the
means of delivering that message is being narrowed.
We have only to look at the complementarity of masculine and
feminine thinking to see the possibilities for expanding our understanding.
Theologian Edwina Gateley reminds us that in Luke’s gospel Jesus gives us
two side-by-side stories to describe what the kingdom of God is like. In one,
God is like a woman who sweeps her house in search of a coin. In another, God
is like a shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep in search of the one that is lost.
These two examples, given by Jesus, have existed alongside one another for all
these centuries, but how many times have you seen a stained glass window, holy
card or Church of the Good Housewife? Are there, perhaps, images and stories in
scripture that have not even been developed because only men have done the
developing? If so, then at the very time that the church needs all the wisdom
it can muster -- and which God has amply provided, why must we limp along using
only half a brain, half our experience?
In our parish we enjoy an ecumenical, sister-parish relationship
with a neighboring Presbyterian church. A woman who is doing her internship
there while preparing for ordination came to me recently to ask about these
“changes” she’d been hearing about. When I explained it to her,
she exclaimed, “It’s like having part of your body cut off!”
“Yes,” I said. “For Fr. Jim, it’s his right
hand. For me, it’s my tongue.”
“How sad,” she replied. “The whole church is maimed
by this.”
As for the phrase, “the blessing of children or infants
should not be encouraged while distributing Communion,” the explanation is
given that they “are blessed with the full assembly at the end of
Mass.” That logic does little for the toddler-in-tow at Communion time, or
for that toddler’s parents. It should be noted that the language of the
document is so passively stated, “should not be encouraged,” that
this would be a very low-level directive and only the strictest constructionist
would see in this reason to deny children a blessing. Most likely, current
practice will not be affected by this particular phrase. However, the mere fact
that it was included in the document is troubling. What could be less like the
intention of Christ who censured the apostles and said, “Let the little
children come unto me”?
The kind of thinking that could author such a restriction, as well
as the others, seems inherently flawed and out of touch with reality. This is
often what so dismays the Catholic faithful. One of my sisters recently left
the church. It was a very painful, difficult, reluctant decision on her part.
As she explained it to me, “I could put up with all the things I take
issue with -- the role of women, birth control, etc. as long as my experience
of church at our parish was life-giving and positive. But when that was no
longer the case, how can I stay?”
The American Catholic church has had to put up with a lot lately.
As long as their experience of church at the parish level is positive, the
faithful, like my sister, are amazingly resilient and forgiving. But these new
directives may severely impact such an experience. They may, indeed, be the
footnotes that determine history more than do the headlines.
Kathleen M. Kichline is director of liturgy at St. Thomas More
Parish in Lynwood, Wash.
National Catholic Reporter, November 15,
2002
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