E ARE NOW approaching the 60th Anniversary of the close of the Second Vatican Council, and it sometimes seems that, despite various bits of progress here and there, we in the Catholic Church still find ourselves in the throes of certain “hot button issues.” In the context of the Sacred Liturgy, there is still great tension surrounding the notion of the participatio actuosa—often translated as “active participation”—called for in SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM. It is not my intention here to treat these words from an etymological perspective, nor do I intend to study it from the perspective of liturgical history. Many other writers have done that with far greater eloquence and insight than can be offered here. Rather, I wish to examine a practical—but often overlooked—reality, namely, that an active participation demands a certain balance of generative and receptive elements.
Body & Soul • I will begin with what I call the “generative” element, as it is that which is most readily associated with the concept of participatio actuosa. In speaking of the generative element, I am referring specifically to bodily postures, speech, and singing. Because we are both physical and spiritual beings, hylomorphically composed of a body and soul, the movements of our body have direct implications on the state of our souls. St. Paul speaks of this in his letter to the Romans as such: “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.” As we can see, the spiritual dimension of our worship corresponds to our bodily comportment.
Kneeling To Propose Marriage • Posture is a key component for our right worship of God, and both the Extraordinary Form and Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite give very thorough prescriptions of bodily posture throughout the Mass. In the same manner that a crowd stands when a monarch enters the room, or, as a Americans, we stand when we hear the national anthem at a baseball game, the congregation stands as a gesture of honor for the Procession, the Gospel, the Creed, and incensation. Likewise, in the same manner that a student sits in the classroom, the congregation is seated to absorb readings or a homily. To be seated is a posture wherein one is at ease, but it is simultaneously a posture of engagement appropriate to a student. Finally, kneeling is the quintessential gesture of reverence in the liturgy, and it is posture that is perhaps most removed from day-to-day usage. Outside of the context of prayer, it is only at such heightened moments as a marriage proposal that one kneels. Thus, even in the Mass, kneeling is reserved for the most sacred moments of the Consecration and the Communion Rite. In her wisdom as a teacher, the Church has assigned the faithful these various postures throughout the Mass in order that our external being and interior disposition might be most properly aligned to the liturgical action at hand.
Style Of Speech • Let us now turn to another generative dimension of participatio actuosa, namely, that of speech. The act of speech is one of the most spontaneous shared expressions of the human person. Various subsets of the human race share languages in common, each with their common vocabulary and rules of syntax. Nevertheless, each person has a way of assembling those words into phrases, clauses, and sentences that is uniquely their own. In the highest and most rarified linguistic context of poetry, it is known that each poet has—or is a the very least striving to find—his or her “voice.” Writers of prose, fiction and non-fiction alike, certainly can become known for a style, as evidenced by the short stories of American icons like Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway or Flannery O’Connor. Moreover, the way that every individual makes conversation or responds to questions in the quotidian environs of the home, workplace, or hardware store is unique to that individual.
Joining Together • In the context of liturgical worship, the Church seeks to unite these many diffuse voices into one common prayer. As such, we are given a common patrimony of prayers and responses to pray. It is certainly true that any individual praying the LITURGY OF THE HOURS might readily be capable of creating their own prayer ad libitum. Nonetheless, they choose—when praying a given office—to pray using the psalms, canticles, and other scriptures and prayers prescribed in the breviary. Likewise, in the Mass, neither the priest nor the congregation is asked to compose their own prayers, but rather to recite those texts prescribed in the Roman Missal, Lectionary, or other appropriate liturgical books.
Holy Receptivity • Thus far in our discussion of the participatio actuosa, we have mentioned generative elements of participation: bodily posture and speech. In both cases, however, we should note that there is in fact a receptive dimension: the words we speak are not merely of our own devising, but rather, they are an inherited good. Likewise, the postures of sitting, standing, and kneeling are not spontaneously chosen according to the whims of each individual, but rather, the community of worshipers assumes the uniformity of posture as prescribed by the liturgy itself. Our entire participation in the liturgy, even when it involves our own physical engagement in bodily gestures or vocalization, is undertaken through a mode of receptivity.
(1 of 2) Hyperactive Participation • Now we come to the heart of the matter: namely, that active participation does not require perpetual physical activity or verbalization. In fact, I would argue that a sort of hyperactive participation could in fact be the enemy of active participation. To use an everyday example, one cannot claim to be invested (or actively participating) in a conversation if he or she is perpetually talking and failing to listen. In fact, if a conversation partner proves to be a poor listener or is overeager to insert their “two cents,” you grow very skeptical of the extent to which they are invested in your conversation at all. To offer an alternate analogy, let us consider a symphony orchestra. The very genius of symphonic writing lies in the broad spectrum of timbre that can be achieved through the various combinations of instruments. If every single instrument plays in perpetuity throughout a piece, that kaleidoscopic aesthetic is entirely lost. As such, for periods of a piece of music, orchestral players often have to remain intimately engaged in the music even though they do not play a single note, for if they fail to do so, they will miss their entrance when it time for them to play once again.
(2 of 2) Hyperactive Participation • The goal of our active participation is not that we might shape and mold God, but that he might shape and mold us. If we fail to be receptive agents, we are robbed of our opportunity to be molded. As such, it is crucial that the faithful are offered moments of silence and recollection throughout the course of the liturgy. It is a mistake to understand the phrase “active participation” as a mandate to perpetual motion. This mistaken notion of what I call hyperactive participation has created a degree of angst especially in the practice of sacred music, specifically where the involvement of a choir is concerned. To that end, I would recommend reading Mark Haas’ brilliant defense of choral singing in the Mass, found here:
* PDF Download • “Can the Choir Sing Alone at Mass?”
—Full title: Can the Choir Sing Alone at Mass? Yes! And Here’s Why That Matters.
Final Thoughts • I recall the mandate given in Deuteronomy 6:4-5, which forms part of the pivotal Jewish prayer of the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” Note the ordering of means by which we are to love God: our heart, our soul, and our might. That is to say, before we can begin to love God with our might, or our physical being, it is crucial that we love Him in the depths of our heart and soul. Let us also remember to understand this through the “both/and” idiom rather than the “either/or” idiom. While I am defending the necessity of the interior elements of participation, this is by no means to the detriment of the exterior elements. Let us be fervent in contemplation and fervent in vocalized prayer or singing!
