Instigated by the faith and foresight of Pope John XXIII, from 1962-65 the leaders of the Roman Catholic Church gathered in Rome for the Second Vatican Council (popularly referred to as Vatican II). In terms of cultural and worldwide impact, it was one of the most significant events of the 20^th century.

The Council produced 16 documents including 7 major documents on issues dealing with the nature of the church, the Roman Catholic church’s relationship to other Christian communities, its relationship to non-Christian religions, its understanding of scripture, religious freedom, the church’s role in the modern world, and the reform and promotion of the sacred liturgy or communal worship.

Chosen by John XXIII, the hallmark word of the Council was an Italian word: aggiornamento – which meant “an updating” or “renewal.” What he had in mind was best captured when he said the council would serve to “throw open the windows of the church and let the fresh air of the spirit blow through.” Pope John was inviting an ecclesial self-examination, a discernment of the signs of the time, and a clear understanding of the church’s role and way of engaging in the modern world. Largely dependent on one’s theology, opinions differ as to whether Vatican II was a success or a failure. For me it was a beautiful bud that never was given a chance to fully blossom.

That being said, in my opinion, of all the words that were written in these documents, the most important, evocative, and far-reaching were four words that appear in three lines from the Document on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium).[1] They are intended to describe the ingredients of authentic worship, but I believe they have implications for each and all of us, regardless of religious persuasion, believer or non-believer.

Mother Church earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that fully conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy. Such participation by the Christian people as “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a redeemed people (1 Pet. 2:9; cf. 2:4-5), is their right and duty by reason of their baptism.

In the restoration and promotion of the sacred liturgy, this full and active participation by all the people is the aim to be considered before all else; for it is the primary and indispensable source from which the faithful are to derive the true Christian spirit.

For a variety of reasons, in the years running up to Vatican II the typical Mass-goer largely had been reduced to a passive onlooker. Priests “said the Mass,” meaning the assembly’s role, if you can call it that, for all practical purposes had been diminished to following along in missalettes that translated into English the Latin prayers and order of worship. Too often the Mass had become little more than devout spectating. Traditionalist Catholics who favored the Latin Rite Mass and either dug in their heels against the reforms of Vatican II or used those heels to walk, were disingenuous to suggest that most people’s actual experience of Mass prior to Vatican II could be called a truly participative experience. There is revelation and truth tucked into the passive aggressive adage of the time describing the felt role of many of the laity in the church: “Pray, pay, and obey.”

The changes encouraged in The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy were aimed at remedying this problem of passive involvement. Incidentally, the problem is not exclusively Catholic. The introduction of pews into the worship space, which did not happen for the first thousand years of Christianity, became a mainstay after the Reformation in the 1500’s when the pulpit and preaching became the focus of Protestant worship. The primary action of the assembly became listening to the sermon and the movement of the liturgy and liturgy that included movement began to disappear. The fact that the liturgy still has a ways to go before becoming a genuinely participative experience, does not diminish the vision and value of trying to make it so.

Full, conscious, active participation is our right and our duty not only in worship but in life. It is so not merely by baptism but by virtue of being itself. St. Iranaeus said “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.” God is the aliveness of Life, the spirit of life. So, for humans who are made in the image of God, ALIVENESS is the mark and evidence of the deeply human and holy person.

Aliveness understood as full, conscious, and active participation is not to be confused with extroversion or boisterousness or Type A personality. It has to do with engagement, with being present and receptive, with listening and allowing ourselves to be acted upon and moved, with responsiveness and involvement as we are faced with a given situation, experience, event, person, or thing. It is spontaneous, not pro forma. It is not supernatural, but natural. It may manifest as silent awe or tears of joy or a kind gesture or a change of heart or a reexamination of what matters most or deep remorse and asking for forgiveness or a note to a friend or the conviction to look panhandlers in the eye or personal involvement in a work of mercy or justice.

These four words— full, conscious, active participation—  offered within the specific context of how we are to be engaged and involved in the eucharistic liturgy are in fact the hallmarks both of the Christ-life and any life that is lived with integrity. Buddhists speak of mindfulness. Jews speak of kavannah or inner participation. Christian contemplatives like de Caussade or Brother Lawrence or John Main speak of being present. It is crucial to see that these four words from Sacrosanctum Concilium are not limited to church or worship. They reflect capacities indigenous to the human heart. As such they are guidelines for how to engage in relationships and enter into life in all its forms.

PARTICIPATE: The chief word is participation. To be human is to choose to be involved and engaged. Its opposite is indifference that results in being a spectator, at best, one who watches life from the sidelines, at worst, a guilty bystander. The danger is becoming a tourist in one’s own life. Are we playing our part, aware that we alone can contribute what uniquely God gives us to give?

For persons of faith, full, conscious, active participation in the Eucharistic liturgy is supposed to catapult us into the same wholehearted participation in our marriages, friendships, communities, and kinship with the earth. Rabbi Heschel writes:

The purpose of speech is to inform.
The purpose of prayer is to partake.

And all of life is a prayer. So the question is: are we consciously and wholeheartedly participating in the liturgy that is our life, in the liturgy that is not merely the work of the people but the work of God all around us, in the work of creation? How do we participate?

FULLY – completely, totally, not partially, not half-baked or half-assed but with our entire being.
CONSCIOUSLY – deliberately, not accidentally, willingly, mindfully, intentionally, not asleep on our feet, not sleepwalking through life only to be awakened by tragedy or trauma but aware, alert, and alive.
ACTIVELY – that is, present, awake, and accounted for, immediately available and engaged, not passive, not disconnected but part of the cosmic dance and the kinship of life.

How do we participate? For starters– wonder-fully, grate-fully, mind-fully, sorrow-fully, hope-fully, merci-fully, joy-fully, soul-fully. Whether it’s the earthly liturgy we take part in or the heavenly liturgy it is a foretaste of, it’s all a variation on a theme called celebration.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT AND ACTION:

The fourfold movement of the Mass is to receive, bless, break, and share.

Are we awake to all that we have received as gift, receiving these blessings mindfully and gratefully?

Are we offering the fullness of who we are as a blessing to others? What would it look like to go through the day thinking of ourselves as a bless-er?

Have we allowed ourselves to be broken open by the sheer beauty of this world, by the ineffable mystery of another human person, by our own preciousness?

When life has broken us, either through our own fault or the folly of existence, did we fully taste our brokenness? Can we still taste it now? That too is involved in becoming fully human, in becoming a man or woman of deep sympathy who is moved by the sight of others who are the brokenhearted. If we can still taste it, God can transform it into something that will bless others. Are we stewards of our own brokenness?

Do we share fully, first of ourselves, and then, of what we have? Are we allowing God to transform our brokenness into something that will make the lives of others better?

Let us allow ourselves to wince and be moved – especially moved to action, to acts of kindness, mercy, generosity — by the words of St. Basil (330-370 C.E.):

The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat hanging in your closet belongs to those who need it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to those who have no shoes; the silver which you keep hidden in a safe place belongs to the poor. You do wrong to everyone you could help but fail to help.

[1] Liturgy is the ancient term used to describe communal worship. More common among Catholics, Orthodox, and Episcopalians, it comes from the Greek Leiturgia, and means “the work of the people,” and originally referred to a social activity or a common endeavor entered into by the public. Over time it came to mean the act of worship, the work of thanks and praise offered by the entire community.

[2] Wholesome Worship by Charles Gusmer is a book published in 1989 that I liked and that still holds up theologically and pastorally. He offers valuable criteria for prayerful and effective liturgy.