NLM and the Reform of the Reform

The Roman blog New Liturgical Movement is a frequently if not daily read for some of us non-Romans/protestants who point our liturgical eyes across the Tiber. Long militating for recognition of the splendors of the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) and the reform of the reforms of Vatican II, some readers have wondered what its role is now that the Benedict the 16th’s motu proprio has clarified the Roman position on the TLM, a clarification that enables its wider and broader use. Would the site focus exclusively on the TLM and leave the Novus Ordo (the V II version) to hang? The authors have been engaging in public discussion about this and one of today’s posts hits it on the head: to be of continuing use to the church is to refuse the inclination to head into a TLM echo chamber; the reform of the reform should move hand in hand with the restoration of the TLM.

I’m happy they’ve made this statement because it means the site and its resources will continue to be of use to us non-Roman readers. We’re never going to do a TLM; ain’t gonna happen. However, we too could stand to experience, learn, and thoughtfully and theologically reflect on the riches of a TLM done properly and how its qualities of prayerfulness and Godwardness can further our corporate and private worship of God.

Tradition–And Lutheran Stuff Again

In the face of a spate of recent criticisms of the new (ELCA) Lutheran worship book, the Lutheran Zephyr raises an important set of questions and issues. He writes:

When large numbers of congregations reject the beloved traditions
enshrined within Lutheran Book of Worship (and Service Book and
Hymnal), what is the ELCA to do? 

• Should the ELCA just sit there and do nothing while an
  increasing number of congregations fish around for worship resources
  from other traditions?
• Should the ELCA whip these congregations into Latin-rubric
  submission and simply give them more of the traditional liturgies that
  they are already rejecting?
• Or should the ELCA venture to create liturgies that embrace the
  spirit - if not the letter - of the church’s grand liturgical
  tradition, while simultaneously welcoming new language, tunes and
  theology?

The ELCA had to create a book for the church we have - a diverse
church whose identity 20 years post-merger is not yet formed - not for
the church some of us wish we had.  We’re a church, for
better or worse, with a congregational polity, freedom in matters of
worship, diverse heritages, and pieties that range from evangelical
catholic to haugian.  Would a Lutheranized Book of Common Prayer be the
prescription for this church?  That seems to be the answer Pfatteicher
and others would provide, but it is not the right answer for our
church. 

I note in this passage the many times and many ways in which the word tradition is used. In particular, I want to draw attention to the ways that the word is used in the three bulleted points. (Let me preface this by saying that I’m not criticizing the Zephyr here, rather I’m interested in how the word is functioning rhetorically.)

In the first case, “tradition” is that which is alien–given the contrast with “ELCA”, these would appear to refer to non- and un-Lutheran traditions. I’m thinking he means praise choruses and “contemporary” music from low-church denominations and para-church movements. But I find myself wondering if “Catholic” traditions would be included in this category or not.

In the second case, “traditional” is both natively Lutheran and pejorative. Traditional is that which is being rejected. Interestingly, this same use is modified by “beloved” in the opening paragraph of the quote, clearly drawing a distinction  between those for whom these traditions are “beloved”  (i.e., Pr. Pfatteicher, LutherPunk, myself, etc.) and the greater majority of Lutherans who are rejecting them.

In light of these two, the third use is particularly interesting. Here “tradition” is modified by “grand” and “liturgical.”  The rhetorical intent identifies liturgies that are, once again, natively Lutheran but are distinguished from those being rejected. The “grand” implies  (for me at least) both a broader scope—perhaps implying that the (or a) reason for the rejection in the liturgies in 2 is that they were narrowly or parochially Lutheran—and implying an aesthetic difference.

The Zephyr is confronting, I believe, one of the major issues that faces church leaders and liturgists of our generation. That is, in the face of disjunctive upheaval in our societies and our denominations, how do we connect or reconnect with the “grand traditions”–liturgical and otherwise–from which we believe we should take our bearings? At the root, it’s a question about identity.

Furthermore, it’s a question about direction. Here we are at this time and in these places. Where do we go from here and where should we look for guidance? How do we talk about who we are and how do we shape who we will be?

I’ve wrestled with these same questions before on this blog. In a piece I linked to yesterday I talk about my reaction to the construction of liturgy and tradition in the Anglican Missal while in this post I discuss the elusive quality of tradition especially when it’s backed by historical research. Yes, research and historical knowledge complicate rather than simplify the issues.

I’m guessing that the Zephyr and I agree on the big picture: tradition is not a thing to be grasped for its own sake but rather is a thing to be pursued because of the ways that it enables us as individuals and as “traditions” to proclaim the Good News of what God has done for us through Jesus Christ and the effect that this Good News should have upon our lives–what we think, what we do, how we choose to be incarnate in the world.

I also know we have some disagreements on the little picture –how this works out on the micro-level, especially liturgically. As a Lutheran I was very much for a “Lutheranized Book of Common Prayer.” Indeed, I argued that given the freedom of liturgies enshrined in Augsburg Confession, Article 7, there was no reason why Lutheran congregations couldn’t use the BCP as is…

Disagreements aside, this conversation about how we uncover, construct and utilize a “grand tradition” is an essential one. Lutherans, Episcopalians, Catholics, and others should not only be having these conversations in their own groups but should be sharing methods, findings, and dead ends on the road. Personally, that’s one of the things I’m hoping to achieve with this blog. So, while I disagree with some of the choices that the Lutheran Zephyr might make in his construction, I heartily encourage and support his process of discovery and construction as I parallel it with my own.

Must-Read Article on the New Lutheran Service Books

Lee points us to a must-read article by Philip Pfatteicher, one of the Grand Masters of American Lutheran liturgy.

He writes a devastating critique of the new ELCA work, Evangelical Lutheran Worship, and damns the new LCMS Lutheran Service Book with faint praise. In particular, he focuses upon what these books have done to the Daily Office.

If you run in any sort of protestant liturgy circles (and if you’re reading this you do…), don’t miss this article!

Both the Lutheran Zephyr and Lutherpunk left notes at Lee’s place indicating they might say more; I’d be interested to see what they have to say about it.

On Common Prayer: A Modest Proposal

I want to ponder both the possibilities and limitations of common prayer as we head deeper into this new century. There’s no doubt that things are changing. For decades Christian denominations have positioned themselves in relationship to one another primarily through their responses to modernism. Thus, there was a great shift in the in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries with the rise of fundamentalism as an approach to the social changes caused by advances in science and technology. There was another in the 1970’s as Rome clarified the stance of Vatican I and placed new accents upon the traditional faith in doctrine and liturgy which caused ripples throughout the Protestant Mainlines.

These ripples of Vatican II were both a continuing response but also the harbingers of new change. As we—forty years later—are still making sense of the reforms and their implementations, the world order is changing and the ripples are encountering new shoals. We are on the cusp of another major shake-up, no longer a response to modernism but postmodernism. In a sense the current problems are related to the rapprochement of the preceding decades. We have started talking to one another, to fields of science, and the humanities—and have found new questions and problems. New generations arise: the digital youth. Old ways are passing, new ones are struggling to be born.

As denominations shift and change in this new world, so our ways of relating to one another must change. The old ways are no longer tenable. Old patterns of ecumenism are based on bilateral conversations between small groups in rooms searching for common ground. Thus, I, a smoked-up-solemn-high-mass right-on-the-edge-of-transubstantiation Anglican, find myself in eucharistic fellowship with Moravians and the UCC thanks to shared agreements mediated by the ELCA. Don’t get me wrong—I have nothing against Moravians or the UCC, but some pretty serious differences exist in our sacramental theologies. If Christian witness is rooted in truth and
integrity—do these arrangements tell the truth about who and what these Christian communities are and what they believe?

I’d like to reframe what we’re about in terms of ecumenism. It’s one thing if we’re talking to one another—that is, if the point is the talk and the concepts therein. It’s another entirely if we’re talking about what we do—the practices that we engage in together. If the point of our unity is what we do, then why is ecumenical discussion so focused on thoughts and not actions? In short, my proposal for a new ecumenical direction in the new emerging order is shared action—common prayer: an Ecumenical Use.

The centerpiece of future ecumenical relationships between the Episcopal Church and other ecclesial bodies would rest not in conversations but in a liturgy, the Ecumenical Use. Much of it would be fairly rudimentary—a basic ordo that would lay out a flow of
service from Word to table—but it would also include a stripped-down eucharistic canon, something between the current eucharistic prayers A and D, that would seek to honor both Eastern and Western roots while retaining its Anglican heritage (like a double epiclesis, for example…). The fundamental rule would be that anything may be added to it—but nothing could be removed. The use of this liturgy in local communities would the sign and experience of ecumenical relationships, not conversations on a national level all too far removed from the theological and liturgical life of the people in the pews.

Ecumenical agreements could exist on a purely local level. Episcopal churches—both snake-belly low and the highest up the candle, Continuing Anglican bodies, Lutheran churches, Independent Catholic churches, could all use the liturgy and be united in it. Should a UCC church feel it to be within their common life—hey, why not? The blend between the stable agreed-upon Ecumenical Use and each community’s local use would maintain the flexibility that would allow each to retain its authentic character while holding what is most important in common. Should a community not feel they could participate in the Ecumenical Use with another, they simply would not have to use it. The responsibility and authority for ecumenical relationships would rest at the local level—where the people are and where they meet, gather, and pray.

Yes, it’s a far-fetched idea. Yes, it needs more development. But it’s a possibility—it’s a new direction. The change is coming. Our Great Unpleasantness reveals that we are already in the midst of it. With the challenges and difficulties come new opportunities—we just need to start figuring out what they are.