THE BABY AND THE BATH WATER

Tony Hendra, both in a recent article in AARP (yes, I am that old!) and in Father Joe, his memoir of a 40-year friendship with this saintly Benedictine monk, reminded me of my Roman Catholic past: the rigid rules, the living in fear of committing a mortal sin, the Friday fish days, and the Latin Mass, just to name a few of those realities of life that I have almost forgotten and which are now almost, if not, passé even among Roman Catholics – for better or for worse, depending one one’s point of view.

   What Hendra, now old enough himself for AARP membership, misses most is the Latin Mass. He says: “I want mystery. I want to rub shoulders with the ineffable and unknowable. I want ululating incantations in hushed candlelit places. I want sunlight striking through smoke as it rises like prayer into the shadows. I want a deep bell tolling in the dusk. I want some jumbo mumbo jumbo.” What he misses, he says, is the magic.

   So do I. I’m not sure “magic” is the correct word as it is a sense of wonder and awe, the sense of transcendence that comes from what worship is supposed to be all about. Sometimes in our haste to make everything relevant, we get rid of what is truly relevant. What is even worse is when we do not even realize that this is what we are in fact doing. I certainly do not support bringing back the Latin Mass or the 1928 Prayer Book and I do not miss either one. For me, for me, they were more of a hindrance than a help because I pray neither in Latin nor Elizabethan English.

   Worship is more than about words or the language employed even though words and language help make worship meaningful and personal. Worship is about experiencing God. It is about discovering a sense of the sacred and then being able to take that into my being and make it a part of who I am. Sometimes the ancient forms are helpful; sometimes they are not. Sometimes the new adds to and aids in experiencing God; sometimes it is a complete distraction and what takes place is anything but worship.

   Worship is always very personal even as we worship within a community setting. But worship is never purely personal because we are always part of a community. No two people worship in the same manner nor have the same experience. But because we worship as and in community, we try to find that common ground that will enable each one individually and all together to experience the presence of God.

   Sometimes in our desire to try to make worship meaningful, we mess it up. We throw the baby out with the bath water, so to speak. Messing with worship is dangerous because worship is so personal even as it is done in community. But worship that becomes staid can also become stale no matter how grand and glorious the service or the grandeur of the setting. I remember some grand and glorious and meaningful Solemn High Latin Masses. I also remember the daily 6:30 AM Mass in Latin that often put me back to sleep.

   It is difficult to put a finger on just what makes some worship, worship, and other worship merely following a routine. The answer is that we know it when we experience it. It’s, well, it’s magic.       WJP