A Classic Warning for the New Aestheticism
Many of us love the great 1999 book by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, The Spirit of the Liturgy, published in 2000 by Ignatius Press. In the Preface to that classic book, Ratzinger refers to an earlier classic published by a young priest in 1918 [as usual, my comments in brackets]:
One of the first books I read after starting my theological studies at the beginning of 1946 was Romano Guardini's first little book, The Spirit of the Liturgy. . . . This slim volume may rightly be said to have inaugurated the Liturgical Movement in Germany. [Notice the term "movement"--renewal movements are nothing new in the Church and even predate Vatican II.] Its contribution was decisive. . . . We were now willing to see the liturgy--its inner demands and form--as the prayer of the Church, a prayer moved and guided by the Holy Spirit himself, a prayer in which Christ unceasingly becomes contemporary with us, enters our lives. [Thus, authentic Catholic liturgy must always be pneumatological (meaning "Spirit-filled") and charismatic (meaning "exercising the gifts of the Holy Spirit") because the Spirit of the liturgy is a divine person, the Holy Spirit, whom the Catechism of the Catholic Church calls "the master of prayer" (§ 741).]
Ratzinger, Preface, p. 7 (bold emphasis added).
Today, many need a refresher course on the state of the liturgy before Vatican II. Professor Ratzinger gives a concise lesson for both old and young today (since both categories seem to be, at times, equally afflicted with historical amnesia):
We might say that in 1918, the year that Guardini published his book, the liturgy was rather like a fresco. It had been preserved from damage, but it had been almost completely overlaid with whitewash by later generations. In the Missal from which the priest celebrated, the form of the liturgy that had grown from its earliest beginnings was still present; but, as far as the faithful were concerned, it was largely concealed beneath instructions for and forms of private prayer. The fresco was laid bare by the Liturgical Movement and, in a definitive way, by the Second Vatican Council.
Ratzinger, Preface, p. 8 (bold emphasis added).
We need to read the above words attentively and draw the obvious conclusion: Pope Benedict XVI is not a "traditionalist" at all. Yet, many, ironically both theologically liberal and theologically ultraconservative, boldly and mistakenly project that label onto him, much as many in the U.S. simply project onto Barack Obama whatever they wish to find. Like all believing Catholics, the Pope is "traditional" because we proclaim and celebrate what has been handed over to us by the Apostles inspired and guided by the Holy Spirit. But the term "traditionalist" is a distinct category that is neither inherent in nor intrinsic to Catholic identity. In contrast, the charismatic dimension of the Church is intrinsic and inherent to her very nature as emphasized by Scripture and by any sound, balanced, and complete summary of Catholic teaching--in other words, by any catholic (i.e., complete, "in accordance with the whole") presentation of Catholic teaching.
Given the high recommendation of Cardinal Ratzinger in 1999, let's turn to Romano Guardini's classic of 1918. By the way, Guardini (1885-1968), in spite of his Italian name, birth, and parentage, was a German priest-scholar. (Before there was a European Union, he was already a "European" mirroring the now neglected and disdained Christian cultural foundation and unity of Europe.) Guardini's pioneering book The Spirit of the Liturgy is indeed a "slim" volume of about 95 pages. It is sparse in its footnotes and references. It tends to be more abstract that the Ratzinger sequel by the same name. Yet, it is worth reading.
Today, I will focus on one chapter entitled by Guardini "The Seriousness of the Liturgy" (by the way, "seriousness" does not imply "somber"; see my related CatholicExchange.com essay at this link). In this chapter, Guardini prophetically warns against a false aesthetic approach to liturgy divorced from Catholic truth. I think his words are a welcome, prophetic necessity today when you can surf the Internet and find blogs and websites filled with photos of the Extraordinary Form presented under the cheeky American label "eye-candy." Yes, the fascination and thirst are understandable given what so many have had to put up with over the years. Yet, the "eye-candy" approach to liturgy, if taken too far, carries its dangers. Since I certainly don't have access to the hearts of those taking or appearing to take this approach, I certainly do not venture to assert that anyone in particular has crossed the line and embraced the false aesthetic approach described by Guardini; but warnings are good to hear because they might save all of us, including me, from taking the wrong path in liturgical matters and liturgical commentary (much of which is, unfortunately, divisive, sneering, and polemical).
Here are excerpts in which Guardini warns against a false aesthetic approach to liturgy (remember the following was first published in 1918):
Aesthetes are everywhere looked upon as unwelcome guests . . . but nowhere are they more deserving of anger and contempt than in the sphere of sacred things [Guardini doesn't pull any punches here]. The care-worn man who seeks nothing at Mass but the fulfillment of the service which he owes to God; the busy woman, who comes to be a little lightened of her burden; the many people who, barren of feeling and perceiving nothing of the beauty and splendor of word and sound which surrounds them, but merely seek strength for their daily toil--all these penetrate far more deeply into the essence of the liturgy than does the connoisseur who is busy savoring the contrast between the austere beauty of a Preface and the melodiousness of a Gradual.
Guardini, p. 74 (from the 1998 reprint published by Herder & Herder, with introduction by Joanne M. Pierce; emphasis added).
The philosophical basis for Guardini's vehement condemnation of the aesthete is scholastic:
"Pulchritudo est splendor veritatis" ["Beauty is the splendor of truth"] --"est species boni" ["It is the form of the good"], says ancient philosophy, "beauty is the splendid perfection which dwells in the revelation of essential truth and goodness." . . . . Pride of place, therefore, though not of rank or worth, belongs, not to beauty, but to truth.
Guardini, p. 77 (original italics) [Note to reader: Of necessity, I have to quote excerpts only; I urge all readers to read Guardini's short 95-page book so that can see the full context for themselves and confirm for themselves that nothing quoted by me is either misleading or untrue to Guardini's message].
Here is the basis of Guardini's criticism of the merely aesthetic: it focuses on superficial externals apart from truth. The danger is that we may give beauty priority over truth:
But there is a grave risk, which many people do not escape, of this order [that is, the order of truth before beauty] being reversed, and of beauty being placed before truth, or treated as entirely separate from the latter, the perfection of form from the content, and the expression from its substance and meaning. Such is the danger incurred by the aesthetic conception of the world, which ultimately degenerates into nerveless aestheticism.
Guardini, p. 78 [again, as usual, blogger's comments are in brackets].
In contrast, the Church rejects such "nerveless aestheticism" (which, in my personal opinion, tends toward the effeminate in some cases; some have referred to this as a "camp" tendency--it's something people need to guard against):
The Church has not built up the Opus Dei [the "Work of God," the liturgy] for the pleasure of forming beautiful symbols, choice language, and graceful, stately gestures, but she has done it--in so far as it is not completely devoted to worship of God--for the sake of our desperate spiritual need [p. 82]. . . . There is no question here of creating beauty, but of finding salvation for sin-stricken humanity. Here truth is at stake, and the fate of the soul, and real--yes, ultimately the only real--life [p. 83]. . . . We are not concerned here [in the liturgy] with the question of powerfully symbolic gestures, as if we were in a spiritual theater, but we have to see that our real souls should approach a little nearer to the real God, for the sake of all our most personal, profoundly serious affairs. For it is only thus that perception of liturgical beauty will be vouchsafed to us. It is only when we participate in liturgical action with the earnestness begotten of deep personal interest that we become aware why, and in what perfection, this vital essence is revealed. It is only when we premise the truth of the liturgy that our eyes are opened to its beauty [pp. 83-84].
Guardini, pp. 82, 83, 84 (bold emphasis added; excerpts scattered over several pages).
That "deep personal interest" in the truth is what reveals the beauty of the liturgy to our eyes. I call that "deep personal interest" a deeper personal conversion (see my related recent posts at this link and at this link). Personally speaking, I rediscovered in a fuller way the beauty of the liturgy once I received a new outpouring of the Holy Spirit in the charismatic renewal. The liturgy became more alive to me and shone forth more brilliantly than ever before, in my experience, with the splendor of truth. Here is Guardini's closing advice in this particular chapter:
On the whole, however, and as far as everyday life is concerned, this precept holds good, "Seek first the kingdom of God and His justice, and all else shall be added to you"--all else, even the glorious experience of beauty.
Guardini, p. 84.
When we forget that closing advice, we end up as mere aesthetes who have missed the boat by seeking after "eye-candy." May all of us seek deeper personal conversion so that we will find beauty in the liturgy "in which the Creator-Artist, the Holy Ghost, has garnered and expressed the whole fullness of reality and of creative art" (Guardini, p. 74).
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