"I stood there in the Church and didn't know what to do. I was listening to this lament in a very public place. I wanted to leave, but then I thought I would be seen to be a perpetrator or outed as a victim. So, I sat down and spent the rest of the Mass angry…," said one man, who wrote to me.

The man says he felt used, adding, "I am so sick of apologies; they are just another form of victimisation."

This is the first of a series of stories I received following my initial piece in CathNews.

A nurse also wrote, recalling that at the end of the Mass, she and the other reader sat with the reader asked to lead the lament—without any preparation—and processed what it all meant.

"A truly professional organisation would have offered support to anyone in the congregation impacted by abuse because you never know who is sitting there and what they are experiencing, but there was nothing."

Another person wrote: "The Sunday Mass is no longer a safe place when I am made guilty of the sins of paedophiles, and church leaders who have not led."

A younger person recounted the experience of being "personally blamed for the crimes that others did in my country" during her grandparent's generation.

"To me, the lament does the same, and I know that others also were upset; I just wonder how those who were abused felt?"

Communications blunder

"They did old-form communications, focusing mainly on content rather than modern messaging that also considers the impact," wrote a communications professional.

Nowadays, there is also more than one channel to deliver a suitable message.

Given that most Catholics no longer regularly attend Sunday Mass, using the Mass as a key communications channel is designed for the village; it is pre-digital and shows that if the bishops receive communication advice, the advisors must up their game.

The response I received to my original piece from clergy has been supportive.

Several wrote expressing their distaste for what they had to do and how they had to do it. Some expressed surprise that no network of support was offered.

Having received the material before Sunday Mass, one priest offered pastoral feedback to his bishop on the content and strategy, but the priest says his advice was not taken.

Other priests also wrote saying they modified the lament or ignored it all together.

Sunday Mass

Sunday Mass is a space where the divine and the human meet, a place beyond the pragmatic.

Understanding the nature of liturgical rites and how they function theologically is the work of liturgical theologians, not a dive into the esoteric.

Using a biblical lament during a Sunday Mass is never appropriate.

Biblical laments are placed within penitential services as part of the healing process.

Accordingly, penitential laments change in their structure, language and purpose according to who is lamenting and what is being lamented:

• I lament that I have done this,
• I lament that others have done this to me,
• We lament that we as a people and nation have done this.

Laments should not be used as a cheap ‘apologetic hocus-pocus'.

It also appears that the bishops' liturgical advisors and theologians must up their game.

Representative or actual guilt and accountability

In making these comments, distinguishing between representative guilt, actual guilt and accountability must be more carefully considered.

How do the current group of bishops, congregational leaders and school leaders/Boards carry the representative guilt and accountability for their predecessors' lapses in moral judgment when they do not carry the actual guilt or personal accountability?

Is it reasonable to project representative guilt or accountability onto the general population with little knowledge of what went on, who have had no part in decision-making and those without agency?

The reality of abuse will be the defining historical term of this period of the Church.

Institutional abuse must be addressed on many levels because it is primarily a human reality; and it is through addressing human needs, decision-making and the human experience of being abused that the institution can find a new way of operating.

An approach to moving forward

In order for everyone to move forward with their lives I'd like to suggest three conversations may be appropriate:

• ask survivors what an authentic act of penance or repentance would look like;
• ask survivors and parishioners what a genuine act of restitution for survivors might look like;
• ask survivors, parishioners, and perpetrators what a healing form of public reconciliation might look like.

In these conversations, a synodal approach to the reality of abuse might uncover and communicate more than an apology ever can.

Importantly, these conversations must not be forced on survivors, Sunday Mass-goers, or perpetrators; they should not be seen as conversations that solve the problem so everyone can move on.

Healing

The function of the Royal Commission was to listen, judge, and act by making recommendations. The Royal Commission helps by exposing issues but cannot heal because it is a legal instrument, not a theological one.

Similarly, political reform will only change the functions around abuse prevention, not abuse's ontology.

In contrast, the Christian Church possesses the tools to address abuse beyond legality and functional prevention, and the Church must offer more than a change in the management of abuse prevention.

The Church must forge new pathways to healing and reconciliation by applying the theological truths of faith, hope, and love through our sacramental system and the mercy of the Gospel.

The way forward for Christians is ultimately theological and liturgical because that is how we frame and understand salvation, life, death, meaning and purpose.

Similarly, a radical (from the roots) reform of the exercise of authority in the church needs to be addressed theologically if the experience and complexity of institutional abuse are to be transformative of institutional leadership.

• Dr Joe Grayland is an assistant lecturer in the Department of Liturgy at the University of Wuerzburg (Germany). He has also been a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Palmerston North (New Zealand) for more than 30 years.

In a letter that needed to be short, it is hard to know what language the bishops could have used to make their apology more comprehensive than it is.

Certainly, the apology needed to acknowledge, above all, Church leaders' own failures for inadequate handling of offenders and inadequate support for victims/survivors.

But as leaders, it also fell to them to apologise, as far as possible, for all offending within the Church.

In their own way, I think the bishops were trying to do all this, while acknowledging that "words alone can never replace what was stolen and can never fully restore that which was destroyed."

Responsibility and abuse

But when Joe claims that the bishops fail to take "full responsibility" he seems to mean "sole responsibility," because he says that, "through the apology and the lament", Sunday congregations were being "co-opted into sharing responsibility for their leaders' actions" and called to "become complicit in the leaders' sins".

Surely, the apology needed to encompass the failures of bishops, priests, religious and laity, because anything less would not have respected what victims/survivors have been telling us.

Joe's claim that using the occasion of a Sunday Mass was itself "a subtle form of abuse", and that it had "no rightful place in the Sunday liturgy" is surely unrealistic.

Real life

This was not the time for esoteric distinctions between laments, symbols of shame, public and private repentance, etc. Liturgy has to be incarnate in real life!

Real life includes: the right of victims/survivors and the Catholic people to hear the apology as directly as possible and not just via public media.

In real life, the time when most Catholics gather is at Sunday Masses. In the course of every year, special causes are occasionally featured without prejudice to the Sunday's primary meaning.

In real life, a letter that needs to be short is never going to say everything that everybody wants it to say.

And in real life, most sexual offending occurs in homes or among relatives, and most vocations to priesthood and religious life come from homes. The apology and the lament were an occasion for all of us.

I think our congregations would have been pleased to hear the bishops' apology, and appreciated the opportunity to participate in a form of communal lament, and would have recognised the need for it to be on a Sunday.

• Copy supplied
• Bishop Peter Cullinane (pictured) is Bishop Emeritus, Diocese of Palmerston North.

The inability to take full responsibility for these decisions has been a constant complaint of survivors and victims of abuse.

However, in this action, the episcopal and religious leaders commit a liturgical abuse of the Sunday Assembly by calling them to become complicit in the leaders' sins.

The majority of Mass-going Catholics—laity and clergy alike—are not complicit in the hierarchy's (bishops, congregational leaders, and functionaries) failures of moral judgment, nor have most of them perpetrated crimes of abuse against victims within the Church.

Nonetheless, they are co-opted, through the apology and lament, into sharing responsibility for their leaders' actions.

Consistently, victims and survivors of abuse have complained that their voices have not been heard and that they have been ignored or minimised.

Last Sunday, the voice of the liturgical assembly—and each believer's right to participate without coercion in the Mass—was added to the number of those who have suffered at the hands of a leadership that seems incapable of real change.

The Litany of Lament

The Litany of Lament used during the Mass was a subtle form of abuse because it demands that the Sunday Assembly participate in an act of repentance that has no rightful place in the Sunday liturgy.

Positioned either in the middle of the Liturgy of the Word (in place of the homily), it disrupts the focus on Scripture.

Placed at the end of Mass, it undermines the Assembly's commissioning for evangelisation. If deemed necessary (which is questionable), it should have been integrated into the Preparation Rites as a Penitential Rite, where corporate sin is acknowledged and forgiven.

However, placing this form of litany with its antiphonal structure and form of words in place of the Penitential Rite would be inappropriate because the Penitential Rite's structure and theology are qualitatively different from the Rite of Penance and Reconciliation, from which the Litany of Lament has been derived.

A Litany of Lament

The litany of lament used on Sunday is a biblical form of prayer used by individuals and communities when they are overwhelmed by exhaustion, confusion, numbness, or despair due to their actions.

Its purpose is to process grief in God's presence, not, as the bishops erroneously suggested, to "channel anger" or "rekindle our thirst for justice in an unjust world."

Litanies of lament function differently depending on whether they are a lament of repentance or penance.

A lament of repentance is used before a lament of penance, but both are used by individuals who have directly sinned to process their grief at their decisions and actions as they kneel at the feet of those they have sinned against.

Penitents use these types of litanies before they receive individual absolution.

These litanies are not for bystanders

Using these forms of litanies in a penitential service makes sense.

Using them in the Sunday Mass—without a clear understanding of what the litany is supposed to achieve—shows that those responsible for this do not understand the nature of forgiveness in the Eucharistic liturgy or the nature of reconciliation in the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation, where restitution and a firm commitment to change are essential.

Symbols of shame and repentance

Biblical acts of lamentation are accompanied by symbols and gestures of shame—rituals such as rending garments, sitting in ashes, or walking barefoot through the city.

These practices articulate repentance that comes through penance.

Potent symbols speak louder than apologies, which have become hollow acts of avoidance. Symbolic acts of repentance might include tearing episcopal garments and mitres or breaking episcopal staffs.

Penance might show Church leaders sitting humbly on the ground outside each cathedral in front of survivors and the wider Catholic community, publicly asking for forgiveness. They would wait in silence until survivors and the baptised community were prepared to offer forgiveness.

Such profound acts of penance, followed by visible restitution, could culminate in a public sacramental reconciliation.

Given the depth of sin and the severity of the crimes, symbolic actions must resonate with the ontological violence inflicted to address the shame honestly.

Public sin, public reconciliation

Failures in moral judgement and crimes against innocents demand rigorous theological reflection.

The Church's ancient tradition of public forgiveness for public sins offers a framework for this reflection. It recognises how sin and crime corrode not just the individual but the broader community of the Church and society.

Public sins, such as moral failings or abuse, require public acknowledgement and forgiveness because they are experienced and known publicly.

The processes of restitution, forgiveness, and reconciliation must also unfold publicly. Within the Church, this is liturgical and ultimately sacramental.

The scandal of abuse has deeply shamed the Body of Christ.

Addressing this shame requires a healing process that names it explicitly and offers it to the Father through Christ.

Without such an approach, shame and violence will continue to burden the entire community.

Healing the communion of the Church is imperative because victims and perpetrators alike are members of the Body of Christ.

• Dr Joe Grayland is currently an assistant lecturer in the Department of Liturgy, University of Wuerzburg (Germany). He is priest of the Catholic Diocese of Palmerston North (New Zealand) for nearly 30 years.

In his 5 November decree, McKnight wrote "It is now clear that an authentically synodal process of greater consultation did not occur prior to its promulgation".

He said he had ordered a "more comprehensive consultation with the relevant parties within the diocese" related to sacred music.

The move will now include the views of musicians, music ministers and "everyone else who has a perspective on the music used in liturgies across the diocese".

He is looking to have a decision by August 2025.

"I am excited about moving forward with an open mind and an open heart" McKnight says.

"Music is such an important part of who we are as Catholics … I am eager to hear from everyone, in a synodal process of deep listening, as we embark on this process together."

Through this, McKnight aims to determine how best to use sacred music to encourage active liturgy participation.

Forbidden hymns back for now

In his decree of October 24, McKnight listed a dozen commonly used contemporary hymns that were to be "absolutely forbidden" in the diocese after the end of the month.

He obtained that list from Father Daniel Merz, a diocesan pastor and chairman of the diocesan liturgical commission. After several years of research and consultations with priests ministering in the diocese, Merz recommended banning the hymns.

McKnight's new decree notes it is "important to recognise that some hymns in current distribution may not be appropriate for use in Catholic liturgies".

Unlike his October decree, the new one does not include the names of any of the previously banned hymns.

Instead, it describes the criteria set by the US bishops' Committee on Doctrine that must be considered when determining whether a hymn is suitable for the liturgy.

McKnight acknowledges the "spirited discussion" on social media and various media outlets following the publication of the banned hymn list.

Banned composers stay banned

The new decree retains a diocesan ban on the use of any music composed by persons who "have been found by his or her diocesan bishop or competent authority to be credibly accused of sexual abuse".

It specifically mentions hymns and music by David Haas, Cesaréo Gabarain and Ed Conlin.

"It is vital that we ensure the greatest care be taken to prevent scandal from marring the beautiful celebration of the Eucharist" McKnight noted.

Source

• CNA

This deficiency is starkly highlighted in paragraphs 26-28 of the Synod's Final Document.

The document equates Eucharistic and synodal assemblies as manifestations of Christ's presence and the Spirit's unifying work.

It also highlights "listening" as a common trait in both.

This creates a flawed equivalence that must be addressed before any working group defines the "celebratory styles that make visible the face of a synodal Church."

This simplification risks diminishing the depth of liturgical rites.

It can obscure their true ritual essence and misinterpret their theological meaning.

While linking synodality with the liturgy is invaluable, such parallels risk reducing the unique purposes of each.

The Eucharist is the focal point of sacramental unity and divine encounter, whereas synodal gatherings are primarily deliberative, geared towards consensus and the governance of ecclesial life.

Treating them as equivalents risks blurring their distinct theological identities, diminishing their respective roles as the lived expression of

• prayerful faith (liturgy) and
• the organisational manifestation of faith in action (mission and management).

Moreover, practical challenges, such as the diverse cultural interpretations of synodality and its application to liturgical practice, remain inadequately explored.

Responding to the "signs of the times" within a liturgical context means prioritising the centrality of the assembly meeting for worship (Synaxis).

It is the Synaxis that informs and underpins the synodal processes, not the other way around.

The liturgy derives its meaning from its direct relation to the Paschal Mystery, serving as its memorial in a liturgical context.

Unlike the synodal process, the liturgical Synaxis uniquely represents and re-presents this Mystery. So it is troubling, though not unexpected, that liturgical theologians are conspicuously absent from the synodal dialogue.

Consequently, significant sacramental and liturgical questions remain neglected, approached only from tangential perspectives.

This oversight occurs when auxiliary theological disciplines and Canon Law, a non-theological field, marginalise the primary discipline of liturgical theology.

The synodal discussions commendably focused on dialogue, inclusivity, and governance reform, have largely sidestepped the liturgy despite its pivotal role in Catholic life.

This sidestepping can be attributed to several factors.

The synodal agenda primarily addresses structural and cultural challenges within the Church, such as clericalism and lay participation.

These efforts are necessary for cultivating an inclusive Church that listens to and integrates the experiences of all its members, especially those who feel alienated.

Within this framework, liturgy often becomes a secondary concern, perceived merely as ritual or ceremonial, with little attention given to its deeper theological dimensions rooted in baptismal ontology.

Moreover, liturgical discourse is inherently contentious.

Decades of "liturgy wars" over issues such as the use of Latin, lay participation, and other practices have sown division between traditionalist and progressive camps.

This contentious history makes many Church leaders hesitant to reopen discussions that could reignite conflict and detract from the Synod's wider objectives of unity and reform.

The liturgy, firmly anchored in tradition and doctrine, presents a complex area for reform.

The Eucharist, as the "source and summit" of Christian life, is integral to Catholic identity. Therefore, conversations around liturgical change touch upon fundamental theological beliefs and ecclesial authority.

The spectre of perceived challenges to doctrine makes some prelates wary of undertaking such discussions, fearing potential disquiet among the faithful.

There are also voices within the Church who believe synodality, by influencing the values of unity and inclusivity in governance, will naturally extend these values into the liturgy without requiring direct liturgical reform.

This perspective avoids more profound theological questions of baptismal ontology, sidestepping the liturgical implications of issues like the ordination of women or blessings of non-canonical unions.

While the Synod's Final Document calls for the liturgy to embody the synodal principles of dialogue and inclusivity, it overlooks the pressing reality many parishes face: an "eucharistic and sacramental famine."

Even as synodal efforts remain focused on governance and pastoral strategies, the central Synaxis—the heart of ecclesial life—weakens under the weight of scarcity.

Many communities endure prolonged periods without access to sacramental celebrations due to an entrenched prioritisation of celibacy over Eucharistic necessity.

This imbalance has led to a phenomenon where clergy from Africa and Asia are brought in to sustain sacramental life, a practice that increasingly resembles a form of "reverse colonisation" with significant consequences already emerging.

In such a landscape, the liturgy is often appropriated as a stopgap solution, a practice born out of necessity when leadership fails to address these pressing realities adequately.

Addressing this issue is vital, for without a robust Synaxis, there will inevitably be no meaningful synodos.

• Dr Joe Grayland is priest of the Catholic Diocese of Palmerston North (New Zealand) for nearly 30 years. He is currently an assistant lecturer in the Department of Liturgy, University of Wuerzburg (Germany).
• A version of this opinion piece originally appeared on La Croix International.

The 1pm Mass, designed to accommodate neurodiverse Catholics, featured dimmed lighting, quiet hymns and a range of sensory tools to assist attendees. Volunteers in gray T-shirts greeted Mass-goers, offering special arrangements and access to interactive Mass binders and tactile self-regulation aids.

At the beginning of the Mass Fr Bob Cilinski, Nativity's pastor, highlighted inclusivity.

"We gather as God's children, all of us."

The liturgy included minor modifications such as recited rather than sung responses and a visually-aided homily.

The initiative aims to address the challenges faced by individuals with developmental disabilities, particularly those with sensory-processing issues.

Studies have shown that autistic children are nearly twice as likely never to attend church services compared to children without chronic health conditions.

Tracey Hulen, a parishioner and education consultant, organised the sensory liturgy alongside Joyce Kelly and Alison Fram, directors of the parish's Special Religious Development programme and young adult ministries respectively.

In preparation for the Mass, the team provided sensory systems training to the parish priests.

Jeannine Brown attended with her 15-year-old son who has multiple neurodevelopmental diagnoses. She expressed appreciation for the arrangements that were made.

"He said 'Well, sign me up'" Brown reported of her son's enthusiasm for future sensory Masses.

Charleen Katra, executive director of the National Catholic Partnership on Disability, noted that sensory-friendly Masses have grown in popularity since the late '90s.

The organisation currently offers an online course about starting a sensory Mass.

Fr Matthew Schneider, an autistic priest, maintains a directory of regular sensory Masses across the US and Canada.

He advocates for at least one sensory Mass in every city to improve accessibility and foster community among autistic Catholics.

Source

• The Pillar

The letter, written by poet Dana Gioia, emphasised the aesthetic value and cultural significance of the liturgy according to the 1962 rite: "It would be short-sighted to deprive the next generation of artists of this source of mystery, beauty, and devotion," the letter stated.

The signatories write: ‘We all, whether believers or not, agree that this ancient liturgy, which inspired the works of Palestrina, Bach, and Beethoven, as well as generations of great artists, is a great achievement of civilisation and part of humanity's shared cultural heritage.

"It is medicine for the soul, an antidote to the crass materialism of postmodernity."

The Catholic signatories explicitly emphasised their loyalty to the Pope and the validity of the current Novus Ordo: "We hope that you do not lump us together with some of the angry and disrespectful voices amplified by social media."

Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone of San Francisco praised the letter as an ‘extraordinary statement by some great artists and cultural figures on the value and inspiration they have drawn from the traditional Latin Mass.'

A group of British celebrities published an open letter in the London Times:

"We implore the Holy See to reconsider any further restrictions on access to this great spiritual and cultural heritage."

This letter referred back to a similar one from a group of British writers and artists sent to Pope Paul in 1971.

That letter resulted in the "Agatha Christie Indult," which allowed the bishops of England and Wales to celebrate the pre-conciliar liturgy on special occasions.

Both letters react to speculation of further restrictions on using the pre-conciliar rites, to which recent Vatican decisions have contributed.

The Vatican's refusal to permit the recitation of the 1962 Mass in Australia's Melbourne Cathedral, based on the cathedral's role as a "parish church," is an example of the implementation of Traditionis custodes (2021).

Another example is its refusal to allow the ordination of members of the traditionalist Society of Missionaries of Divine Mercy in the scandal-plagued French Diocese of Fréjus-Toulon.

While some media, including the French daily "La Croix," cite curial officials denying that further restrictions are immanent, speculation continues.

Speculation intensified after Pope Francis received Gilles Wach, Prior of the "Institute of Christ the King," in an audience.

The institute celebrates the liturgy in the pre-conciliar form.

Initially, nothing was known about the content of the conversation until the institute announced that the pope had encouraged them to adhere to their charism.

The most recent example of the problem of "Latin-Mass" groups comes from Christchurch, New Zealand, where Bishop Michael Gielen has expelled a fringe group who lead illicit and abusive exorcisms without training and episcopal permission.

Traditionis Custodes

Traditionis custodes (Guardian of Tradition, 2021) restricted the celebration of the 1962 Missal and other pre-conciliar rites.

It rejected Benedict XVI's distinction of "ordinary" and "extraordinary" forms of the Mass in his motu proprio Summorum pontificium (2007).

It returned permission for the limited use of the pre-conciliar rites from the individual priest to the diocesan bishop.

Theoretically, this might have worked if it hadn't been for the divergent way bishops applied this permission.

In February 2023, Francis removed the diocesan bishops' authority to grant dispensations for the 1962 Missal by transferring this to his liturgical office.

He stipulated that bishops may not dispense from the prohibition of celebrating the pre-conciliar liturgy in parish churches and must seek the explicit permission of the Holy See.

Based on the cathedral's role as the "parish church of the diocese," Melbourne Archbishop Comemsoli's request to use the cathedral was denied.

The refusal to ordain the seminarians of the Society of Missionaries of Divine Mercy in Fréjus-Toulon is based on specific requirements.

All seminarians who wish to use the 1962 Missal after their ordination must show obedience to the Church's magisterium and seek the permission of their diocesan bishop, who must, in turn, obtain consent from the Vatican.

Part of the problem is the papacy's indecision on the matter since the 1970's.

While traditionalist groups such as the Institute of Christ the King continue to celebrate the pre-conciliar Mass based on their statutes, seminarians of the traditionalist Missionaries of Divine Mercy are refused permission for ordination due to their adherence to pre-conciliar liturgy, and exceptions seem random.

The confusion will continue, and the true nature of liturgical prayer will remain prey to secondary influences.

Liturgy is based on baptismal fidelity

Pope Benedict XVI wrote that the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium (1963), came first because the liturgy is the heart and center of the Church's life.

We are not a social club but a community of baptised people who worship God and seek to live the Gospel of Christ daily.

Baptism brings responsibilities and an acceptance of what constitutes the Church's teaching authority.

We accept that the teaching authority of the Pope and bishops in council, to which the Second Vatican Council belongs, is a category of magisterium.

As baptised members of the ecclesial community, we listen to the Spirit guide the Church through the Church's magisterium.

To deny this is to turn one's back on the Catholic Church and to call into question the reality of one's baptism.

It becomes inauthentic to say that the teaching authority is wrong simply because it does not suit a personal point of view.

Baptism is the basis of how we pray, and how we pray shows what we believe.

Together, these create the "law of prayer" and "law of belief."

These are not cultural or aesthetic categories but theological ones. Liturgical prayer expresses an ecclesiology.

The breakdown in baptismal authenticity that unites magisterium and liturgical prayer as the basis of faithfulness to the Church has created a situation where ecclesiology becomes a matter of personal choice, and liturgical rites become the battleground of these choices.

One of the main reasons for the liturgical changes during and following the Second Vatican Council has been how the Church understands salvation (who can be saved, the Church's mission, and the sacramental role in the mysterion of salvation history).

Simply put, the pre-conciliar rites do not reflect this change and are at odds with the church's self-understanding.

When, in the 1950s rite of Good Friday, the Church prayed for the "perfidious Jews," and no one blinked an eye at the deep antisemitism, now we pray for the "Jewish People, the first to hear the word of God."

We pray differently now because the Church's self-understanding, expressed in the constitutions and documents of the Second Vatican Council, is different from those that went before.

Liturgical rites have meaning, and liturgical rituals express the inner meaning of belief, which is why the liturgy is called a "lex orandi," a law of prayer.

This "law of prayer" cannot be separated from the "law of belief," nor can they be played off against each other.

Since the Council, most so-called "Latin Mass" groups have become deniers of the magisterium of the bishops and Pope in council.

A recent example of this is the ordinations of priests in the traditionalist Society of Saint Pius X (SSPX) in the Bavarian diocese of Regensburg.

The diocesan Bishop, Rudolf Voderholze, emphasised that the SSPX's ordinations were unauthorised and violated ecclesiastical norms. He also expressed hope for the SSPX's genuine efforts to return to full communion with the Catholic Church, respecting canonical regulations.

The prominent British and United States figures from politics, business, art, and media display an essential misunderstanding of liturgy as aesthetic.

They make a fundamental mistake: they do not understand the initiative sacramental function of the liturgical rites that underpin what the Church believes about itself and how it expresses this belief in a particular place and culture.

As a result, they do not express the deeper meaning of ecclesiology of the rites beyond the aesthetic of specific rituals.

Ultimately, it is nice that the liturgy inspires artists and musicians, but this is not the point or even essential; it is tangential.

Liturgical prayer is not primarily defined by its aesthetic but by its participation in the mysterion of salvation.

The rites use ritual gestures, postures, etc., to express the mysterion.

The problem with an aesthetic approach is that either the ritual expressions become overdone (rituals for the effete, or available to the "gnostic" few) or underdone (becoming too anthropocentric and robbed of mysterion).

The danger in both is either an appeal to a "universal" or idealised culture with its call to uniformity or an appeal to a "particular" or anthropocentric culture and its appeal to local culture.

In both instances, the unity of the Church is not considered because the ecclesiological basis of liturgy is lacking.

The struggle behind the liturgical fights

Liturgical divisions weaken the unity of the Church and are not to be ignored. However, the more fundamental issues are not essentially liturgical but soteriological.

With the introduction of culture as a category of theology throughout the 20th century (and since Vatican II), our understanding of redemption, humanness, salvation, gender, sexuality, and procreation has radically changed.

The liturgy is not at war with itself because it articulates our theology of redemption, which reflects the deeper changed experience since the mid-eighteenth century.

The crux of the liturgical debates is the viability of the Latin Rite Catholic Church to maintain a single liturgical expression when it cannot retain a single pre-modern understanding of salvation because culture has been given a place within the Church in the salvific dialogue between God and humankind.

As the forces of globalisation and inculturation make deeper inroads into the magisterial system's presumptions, we struggle to maintain a unified view of what it means to be Christian and Catholic in the modern world.

Therefore, it is no surprise that we have a disunified episcopacy, the rejection of papal authority, and liturgical divisions.

The divisions concerning the use of the 1962 Missal are significant theological ones.

That is because within this conflict lie our theological understandings of the Church, laity, ordination, ministry, salvation, women's rights, participation in worship, and the discipline of believing in the teaching authority of the Church.

Those who choose one over the other should be respected for their choice.

Those who try to celebrate in both rites create a schizophrenic relationship with the Church.

• First published in La Croix
• J. P. Grayland is a visiting professor at the University of Tübingen (Germany). A priest of the Catholic Diocese of Palmerston North (New Zealand) for nearly 30 years, his latest book is titled: Catholics. Prayer, Belief and Diversity in a Secular Context (Te Hepara Pai, 2020).

In an interview with the traditionalist blog "Messa in Latino" the professor of sacramental theology at the Benedictine University of Sant'Anselmo in Rome emphasised the importance of the liturgy for the unity of the Church.

When traditionalists describe themselves as "faithful to Rome" but cling to the pre-conciliar liturgy, they are in fact at odds with Rome: "In order to be faithful to Rome, one must adopt a 'ritual language' that corresponds to what Rome has communally established."

Grillo is regarded as the mastermind of the motu proprio "Traditionis custodes"with which Pope Francis significantly restricted the celebration of Mass according to the missals of 1962.

In 2020, he was one of the signatories of an open letter with demands on how to deal with the Traditional Latin Mass which were partially taken up in the motu proprio.

Crisis of the Church cannot be overcome with a backward-looking approach

He rejected the argument that what was sacred to previous generations must also be kept sacred today.

This is a principle that does not come from theology, but is fuelled by nostalgic feelings:

"Such a principle tends to fixate the church on its past. Not on the 'depositum fidei', but on the colour it took on at a certain time, as if it were definitive.

" The liturgical diversity that exists today, for example with regard to the liturgies of the Eastern Catholic churches or the variants of the Roman rite in Milan or Spain, is due to the specific tradition there.

"Nobody would ever come up with the idea that, on a universal level, someone is free to remain in one version of the Roman rite or in the version replaced by a general reform."

According to Grillo, the Church is indeed in a crisis, but this cannot be restored by restoring a "society of honour". Read more

• Andrea Grillo is a liturgical scholar. He is considered one of Pope Francis' masterminds in his approach to the pre-conciliar liturgy.

In his remarks, the Holy Father underscored the incredible value of the liturgy and recalled his, having declared this year ahead of the 2025 Jubilee of Hope as a Year of Prayer.

"It is important," the Pope stressed, "that in your studies, you reflect on the need to seek this union with the Lord and on the means that He, through the Church, has given us to achieve it."

"The liturgy also reminds us," he underscored, "that this encounter around God belongs to all."

The Pope went on to underline the importance of the connection between God and man in liturgy.

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His remarks came around the 60th anniversary of Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy that was issued during the Second Vatican Council (1962-65).

"'Go and prepare the Passover for us' (Lk 22:8): these words of Jesus,'" the pope said in his February address, "express the Lord's desire to have us around the table of his Body and Blood."

Significantly, gathering "around the table" is not an image of an auditorium or a lecture hall, it is one of intimate involvement around a banquet table.

No fan at a football (soccer) game wants to view the game from one end of a long, narrow stadium. And although we are not talking about football, but active participation in the Paschal Mystery, the same reaction is true.

In addition to some specific suggestions about formation for ministers, the pope noted that liturgical formation is not a "specialisation for a few experts, but rather an inner disposition of all the People of God".

He also referred to formation paths for the People of God and the concrete opportunity for formation that is offered by "assemblies that gather on the Lord's Day" and feasts during the year.

The beautiful Easter liturgies in which the global Church has recently engaged to celebrate the Paschal Mystery could not have been possible without the latest reform of the liturgy, now more than a century in the making.

Worship, thanks, and memory will never change. But due to the liturgical movement, the People of God have prayed in song and voice, and have celebrated the sacred mysteries, in their own language.

They have more actively and consciously participated in the source and summit of the Christian life than ever before.

Is that enough?

The vision of a distant priest praying almost privately at an altar affixed to a far wall with his back to the people, separated by all manner of architectural splendour and obstructions, is now a distant memory.

But the overhang from those days remains.

There is no doubting the essence of the sacred ritual and majesty that often attended the distant performance.

Nor can one diminish the reverence of the congregations that occupied pews far removed from the sacred action at the altar.

It is no wonder that "attendance at Mass" for many was an occasion of mostly private devotion with a focus on the reception of Holy Communion as the pinnacle of the sacred celebration.

But it is past time to centralise altars better, as the Council Fathers who crafted Sacrosanctum Concilium imagined.

It's time for churches to configure the altar table, the sign of Christ, so that, as Pope Francis asked the Dicastery for Divine Worship, the people truly are "around the table of his Body and Blood … so that we may together eat the Passover and live a Paschal existence, both personal and communal".

As Richard Vosko writes in God's House (Liturgical Press, 2006), "Catholic worship is not like a theatre or lecture hall.

"The liturgy demands active, conscious participation … A sociofugal seating plan (rows facing the front) does not work for our liturgy."

I sometimes imagine a host who invites guests to dinner and then sits at the end of the room. Clearly not the hospitality of the Lord Jesus, nor a basis for social action by the guests!

"We are not simply human beings; we are human interbeings and share in the interrelatedness of all cosmic life," says the American Franciscan theologian Ilia Delio.

While we recognise that in an increasingly secular society, we must more often step outside the brick walls (on the altar of the world, as the French Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin imagined), let's properly reflect our sacred celebratory unity when we are inside.

The altar, truly at the centre

What happened to the directives about the faithful being gathered around altars that are central?

The most recent General Instruction of the Roman Missal (no. 299) specifies that "the altar should, moreover, be so placed as to be truly the centre toward which the attention of the whole congregation of the faithful naturally turns".

That injunction is reflected in the official rite the Vatican issued in 1977 for the dedication of a church.

"Here may your faithful, gathered around the table of the altar, celebrate the memorial of the Paschal Mystery and be refreshed by the banquet of Christ's Word and his Body," it says in the prayer for dedicating the altar (Dedicationis ecclesiae, no. 62).

This has been the official position of the contemporary Church is since the time that Vatican II was still in session.

"It is proper that the main altar be constructed separately from the wall, so that one may go around it with ease and so that celebration may take place facing the people; it shall occupy a place in the sacred building that is truly central, so that the attention of the whole congregation of the faithful is spontaneously turned to it" (Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, September 26, 1964, Ch. 5, II, 91).

If we want to move people from spectators to real participants, in an assembly of unity, where they actively celebrate the sacred mysteries they need to have genuine connection as Pope Francis describes.

Proximity, space, light and actions that enhance involvement are all part of that equation.

Entrance procession with the Book of the Gospels, thoughtfully selected participants for the Offertory Procession, the Word proclaimed from a suitably located ambo, lectors who read well supported by good sound amplification, a good homily, trained acolytes, a sonorous choir which leads appropriately selected hymns, among others, all contribute.

The need to gather around the central altar is talked about but reluctance to actually make the move in most places stubbornly persists.

Let's delay no longer!

Need to advance awareness and to educate

But that's not all.

The presider will have to give much more attention to his part, in persona Christi, at the Lord's table and his communication by inclusive language with the co-celebrating congregation.

Artful presiding, as Paul Turner describes it in Ars Celebrandi (Liturgical Press, 2021), includes a real consciousness and the sense of the sacred that are intrinsic components of the celebration. There must be a focus on appealing to people to "grow in the awareness and joy of encountering the Lord (in) celebrating the holy mysteries", he notes.

The awareness and joy that Pope Francis highlights require pastoral education apart from a physical setting that encourages connection.

Ensuring congregations have a clear understanding of Eucharist is essential.

I suspect that the multifaceted elements of the gem which is the Eucharist remain elusive to older congregations who are steeped in old ways.

A proper understanding of the sign of unity and charity, the significance of the assembly of the congregation present as co-celebrants, joining in the thanks to God the Father, listening to the Word and being part of the real memorial of Jesus and the Paschal mystery may still have a way to go.

Because they are then called to go out as missionary disciples: not to suspend the celebration until next week.

How many understand, as Sacrosanctum Concilium says, that

"... in the liturgy full public worship is performed by the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, that is, by the Head and His members"?

Old misconceptions die hard, especially among Western congregations that have an aged demographic with strong recollections of old ways.

Fundamentally, communicants receive communion from the hosts consecrated at the Eucharist they are celebrating.

But this absolute essential is too often routinely breached in practice. No Eucharistic celebration should be make access to pre-consecrated from the Tabernacle. And where congregation size allows, communion from one loaf is most, even while recognizing the challenges involved in realizing this ideal.

Past reforms and those still needed

Reform of the liturgy has clearly contributed to reform of the Church.

Given we are no longer a Eurocentric Church that, in the West at least, serves a secular and increasingly entitled world, reform must continue by all participants.

The essentials of the Passover Meal that we memorialise are not the subject for reform, but how we celebrate as community is.

It is possible to enhance participation by ardently responding to people who seek engagement and active involvement in worshipping their God.

They do so for a reason.

Given the drift of young people away from regular attendance, a more engaging space, including the truly central location of the altar, will contribute to participation, as it will for all.

For too long have we suffered poor translation of key prayers, including the Eucharistic Prayers.

For example: "Consubstantial with the Father" in the Nicene Creed might sound meaningful for theologians, but it is not part of the language of the people.

Also the failure to move to gender-neutral language in the Lectionary given current parlance is plainly offensive to more than half the congregation.

A review of the Lectionary is, in my opinion, embarrassingly overdue.

How would Pope Francis have stimulated the world with Evangelii gaudium (Joy of the Gospels) to a people with poor knowledge of the scriptures?

How would they have responded to his incitement to embrace Jesus' call to missionary discipleship?

The idea of a synodal Church and the adoption of synodality by the whole People of God would have been unthinkable.

Others will have additional preferences for reform.

It would be instructive to hear what they are because the pope has raised this matter fairly and squarely.

He has called for action. In a synodal Church now is the time to register your suggestions.

• Justin Stanwix is a deacon at St Mary Star of the Sea Parish, Milton in the Catholic Diocese of Wollongong (Australia).
• First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.

The final report of the October 2023 session of the synod referred to "the widely reported need to make liturgical language more accessible to the faithful and more embodied in the diversity of cultures."

The English-speaking church has an easy response to this request: the 1998 translation of the Roman missal done by the International Commission on English in the Liturgy, known as ICEL.

Its work was rejected by the man who would become Benedict XVI, but the time has come to put it forward again.

Implementing liturgical translations has often been controversial, both recently and in the long ago past.

The first schism in Rome occurred early in the third century after Pope Callistus I translated the liturgy from Greek into vulgar Latin — the informal, popular version of the language at the time — so that the common people could better understand the celebration of the Eucharist.

Hippolytus, the first antipope and author of Eucharistic Prayer II, led a revolt to keep the Greek liturgy. The dispute became so bitter and violent that pagan soldiers arrested both men and sent them to the tin mines of Sardinia.

After the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), the Catholic Church began translating liturgical texts from Latin into contemporary languages for the same reasons Callistus put the liturgy into Latin: so that people could participate more fully and actively in the liturgy.

The translations were supposed to be made by episcopal conferences and were subject to final approval by Rome.

ICEL's 1998 translation was supposed to replace the translation that had been done quickly after the council.

The group, which comprises 11 bishops' conferences from the U.S. and the United Kingdom to India, the Philippines to New Zealand and Australia, employed experienced translators, liturgical scholars and even poets.

They also added new prayers — for example, presidential prayers after the Gloria that picked up themes from the Sunday Scripture readings.

The 1998 translation followed the 1969 Vatican instruction, "Comme Le Prévoit," which stated, "The language chosen should be that in ‘common' usage, that is, suited to the greater number of the faithful who speak it in everyday use, even children and persons of small education."

The 1998 translation was well received by English-speaking episcopal conferences, who approved it and sent it to Rome for final approval.

However, by the time the translation got to the Vatican, the rules were changing. Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, then head of the Congregation for Doctrine of the Faith, preferred a word-for-word translation of the Latin rather than one that was easily understood when it was proclaimed.

At first, the English-speaking conferences fought for their translations, but the Vatican was not interested in listening.

In one instance, the American bishops asked to send a delegation to Rome to talk about the translation, but the Vatican agreed only on the condition that Cincinnati Archbishop Daniel Pilarczyk not be part of the delegation. Pilarczyk had a doctorate in classics and could run circles around Vatican officials.

In 2001, the Vatican issued new instructions about translations of the Roman missal in "Liturgiam authenticam," which directed "the original text, insofar as possible, must be translated integrally and in the most exact manner, without omissions or additions in terms of their content, and without paraphrases or glosses."

Eventually, under new leadership, ICEL followed Ratzinger's directions and produced the flawed 2010 translation that we are now using in church.

Thus, one cardinal in Rome, whose native language was German, was able to overrule years of work by the English-speaking bishops and tell them how they should pray their own language in worship.

Times have again changed. In 2017, Pope Francis revised canon law to emphasize that the main responsibility for liturgical translations lies with episcopal conferences.

According to Francis, the Dicastery for Divine Worship should no longer impose a given translation on episcopal conferences.

Nor should it be involved in a detailed word-by-word examination of translations.

Under these new procedures, the 1998 ICEL translation would have been easily approved by the Vatican.

Because Francis told the synod delegates not to talk to the press, it is hard to know from where the recommendation on liturgical translations came.

Did the push come from the bishops or the lay delegates at the synod?

Was it from Africa? Asia? Latin America?

These parts of the church have certainly wanted more respect for "the diversity of cultures."

But given that the biggest recent fight over translation involved English speakers, the call may have come from one of the ICEL countries.

It certainly did not come from the American bishops, who have no interest in revising liturgical texts. But perhaps other English-speaking bishops want to revisit the translation.

Granted this history, what would be a good way forward for the English-speaking church?

First, since it takes years to do a new translation, ICEL should begin by resurrecting the 1998 translation and reviewing it for minor improvements.

This translation, the fruit of years of work, is much better than the one currently used. There is no need to start from scratch.

Sadly, ICEL, which holds the copyright, does not allow the 1998 translation to be posted on the web (although some creative searching on Google turns it up), so it is difficult for people to see how good it is.

Second, changing the people's responses would probably be a bad idea. Going from "And also with you" to "And with your spirit" and back to "And also with you" would cause whiplash among the laity.

On the other hand, if Christian denominations agree on common English texts for the Gloria, the Nicene Creed and the Lord's Prayer, then adopting these texts would be worth the effort for ecumenical reasons.

Third, in the meantime, priests should be given permission to use the 1998 translation for the parts of the Mass that are said only by the priest: the presidential prayers, prefaces, Eucharistic prayers, etc.

Let priests have the option of using the 1998 version or the current version, and see which one promotes fuller participation in the liturgy.

It would be instructive to see which version becomes more common after five or 10 years of allowing them both.

Which translation do priests find easier to proclaim, and which version do people more easily hear and understand?

One of the problems with how the church does liturgical translations is that they are not tested in the real world before they are imposed throughout the church.

The hierarchy does not believe in market testing translations to see what works.

Allowing priests to use the 1998 ICEL translation would be a good way to test its value.

Sadly, practical problems will foster inertia in liturgical translations.

Publishers have warehouses full of the current missal that they want to sell. Pastors don't want to spend money on new missals.

Bishops do not want to risk backlash from conservative Catholics who oppose any change in the liturgy.

All of this makes it likely that we will have to endure the current translation unless liturgists, priests and people in the pews support the synod's call for change.

If the United States is going to experience a true Eucharistic revival, then it needs liturgical texts that promote the full and active participation by all people in the liturgy. The current text does not do that.

The 1998 ICEL translation is a step in the right direction.

• Thomas Reese SJ is a senior analyst at Religion News Service, and a former columnist at National Catholic Reporter, and a former editor-in-chief of the weekly Catholic magazine America. First published in RNS. Republished with permission.

The contrasts couldn't be more startling.

Christmas being so engagingly delightful with a cute newborn baby boy, animals, angels, stars and visitors with gifts.

Now as we mark Ash Wednesday we are going to have imprinted on our forehead's ash in the sign of the cross.

Simultaneously the minister will say either: - "remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return" or "turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel".

And we will reply - Amen!!!!

Not morbid at all given that Lent is about life and death!

We're agreeing that yes, the earth isn't our permanent home and we will die.

Our bodies will be placed back into the earth to turn to dust and our souls spirited into God's full sight forever. To replace this certainty with the ever more popular idioms of ‘passed' or ‘pass over' only serves to skip the depthness of this beautiful fact.

The Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter liturgies provide more extreme contrasts as we re-enter into the life, death and rising of Jesus.

The sanctuary being stripped; the altar bare and the tabernacle door opened and emptied; the Gospel retelling how Jesus was sold out by Judas and Peter distancing himself from all involvement.

Jesus being executed without a fair trial, the disciples buzzing off while some women stayed close.

Watching the Easter fire burn, entering the dark church holding flickering candles, listening to the Egyptians meeting their watery deaths, rejoicing during the 8-minute Exultate, and wanting to give the devil the thumbs down at the baptismal promises.

Death didn't have the final say.

We now have God's own life within us.

It's all an unearned gift.

Jesus came that we may have more than a slice of life but "have it to the full". (John 10:10) Now that's worth getting excited about.

Not surprisingly, Ash Wednesday has been described as the ‘Porch to Lent' i.e. an entryway so we can intentionally say an unconditional Yes to Jesus' invitation to follow Him, (Matthew 4:19) when we renew our Baptismal promises some 40 days later at the Vigil.

Lent with its appeal to personal conversion is the ability to pick up the mirror and honestly looking at ourselves, reconcile to God.

This fits in with the summer days giving way to autumn's cooler temperatures being a dying sort of season anyway.

I'm forever grateful to my Catholic upbringing because I wonder if or how I might have found the fullness of faith if not.

Ash Wednesday always stood out.

As a youngster I used to line up my 5 sibling's dolls and soft toys and finger write the cross, knowing instinctively if I used ash all hell would have broken loose!

How are you going to approach the long haul of this season?

Will I get back on track when my plans turn to custard or flag my original intentions as unachievable.

But I'm distracted already with this fractured world caused by sin.

It's hard to escape the conflict in the Middle East and Ukraine and powerlessly watch on the tv news, ordinary people being forced from their homes and villages.

Do they need Ash Wednesday to remind them they are Ash?

Do those Christian's seriously maltreated in North Korea especially, need Ash Wednesday to remind them they are ash?

We can all identify with St Paul when he struggled with himself.

"I cannot understand my own behaviour."

He says. "I fail to carry out the things I want to do, and I find myself doing the very things I hate". (Romans 7:15.) And, St Paul should know, since he had a criminal record hunting down to slaughter Christians before his life changing conversion.

Lent is an opportunity to treat ourselves with a fresh start.

To stop struggling with ourselves, hiding behind excuses, pinning blame on another or regretting those situations we could have been handled more maturely.

It's time to own our ‘stuff', to say we're sorry and seek God's forgiving friendship again which is a constantly open-ended gift.

Go in peace, your sins are forgiven is music to one's ears.

• Sue Seconi is a writer and a parishioner from the Catholic Parish of Whanganui - te Parihi katorika ki Whanganui.

After what has been labelled as a significant address, discussion took place against the backdrop of the dicastery's annual plenary assembly.

The assembly focused on enhancing the liturgical formation for clergy and laity in line with the teachings of the Second Vatican Council and the Pope's recent reflections.

This year marks the 60th anniversary of the promulgation of Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Council's foundational document on the liturgy, which set the stage for sweeping reforms intended to make the Church's rituals more accessible and meaningful to the faithful worldwide.

Pope Francis used this occasion to reiterate that genuine reform of the Church is impossible without a reinvigoration of its liturgical life.

"Without liturgical reform, there is no reform of the Church" declared the Pope. He outlined a vision of a Church that engages actively with its people's spiritual and pastoral needs, bridges divisions among Christians and proclaims the Gospel with renewed vigour.

During the address, Francis spoke passionately about the importance of priests' fidelity and their relationship with the Church.

Keen to animate the Church's mission in the modern world, Francis urged the Dicastery for Divine Worship to proceed in close cooperation with other Vatican bodies, such as the Dicastery for Culture and Education.

In affirming the centrality of the liturgy to the life of the Church and as a way of encountering Christ, he says the Dicastery's focus is to ensure the liturgical life of the Church is vibrant and a unifying force for Catholics around the globe.

Liturgy and church life a single coherent unity

"At its most profound level, Sacrosanctum Concilium articulates a renewed understanding of the Church, where the liturgy of the church and the life of the baptised form a single coherent unity.

"Sacrosanctum Concilium was the first Constitution issued by the Council, not only because of the decades-long research that preceded it and the liturgical reforms of Pope St Pius X and Pope Pius XII but, most importantly, according to Pope Benedict XVI, because the liturgical life of the Church is central to the very existence of the Church.

"2,147 bishops at the Council overwhelmingly approved Sacrosanctum Concilium" Dr Joe Grayland told CathNews recently.

Source

• CNA
• CathNews

Sixty years hence, we can reflect on the impact of this document on New Zealand's theological landscape and liturgical practices.

Sacrosanctum Concilium is the cornerstone of Vatican II because it addresses more than just ritual adjustments to the 1962 rites.

At its most profound level, it articulates a renewed understanding of the Church, where the liturgy of the church and the life of the baptised form a single coherent unity.

Sacrosanctum Concilium was the first Constitution issued by the Council, not only because of the decades-long research that preceded it and the liturgical reforms of Pope St Pius X and Pope Pius XII but, most importantly, according to Pope Benedict XVI, because the liturgical life of the Church is central to the very existence of the Church.

2,147 bishops at the Council overwhelmingly approved Sacrosanctum Concilium.

Only four voted against the Church's cornerstone document and the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy was promulgated by Pope St Paul VI on December 4, 1963.

Historical Snapshot

The journey of implementation unfolded gradually in New Zealand.

The bishops, cognizant of the sweeping changes, decided not to alter liturgical practices until the publication of the first Instruction on February 5, 1964.

Throughout 1964, New Zealanders, were kept abreast of liturgical developments through publications like Tablet and Zealandia, while the bishops prepared to implement the Mass in English.

On May 16, 1964, the decree permitting the use of English and Maori (vernacular) in the Mass reached New Zealand, outlining its application in parish Masses, Religious community Masses, and special occasions such as requiem and nuptial Masses.

A circular letter from the New Zealand bishops, dated July 10, 1964, further authorised changes in the Mass and extended permission for English in sacraments and funeral rites.

The final form of the New Mass was introduced on the First Sunday of Advent, 1970.

Throughout the late 1960s, religious women had been very prominent in the liturgical changes.

At the same time, they were exploring their original charisms under the guidance of Perfectæ Caritatis, the Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life (28 October 1965).

In New Zealand's four dioceses, some diocesan priests gave practical leadership to the reforms, many of whom used French, German, and English sources.

Most of these priests were associated with the St Paul's group at the National Seminary, Holy Cross during the 1950s which had been foundered by Basil Meeking, later Bishop of Christchurch, one of New Zealand's greatest advocates for the new Order of Mass (Novus Ordo).

In Christchurch, Bishop Brian Ashby displayed a nuanced approach to reform and emphasised practical ecumenism.

He established two commissions for Liturgy and Music with Fr Basil Meeking, playing a central role.

Indeed, Meeking was sometimes too Avant guarde in his approach.

There is much anecdotal evidence of his parish church resounding to the sounds of modern music long before this practice became popular.

And much to the horror and bewilderment of the majority of parishioners there was also the sight of liturgical dance.

In Auckland, Auxiliary Bishop, Reginald Delargey, emerged as the one who seamlessly embraced the reforms of Vatican II.

Delargey's enthusiasm came from his involvement with the Catholic Action or Cardijn movement.

Lay Catholic involvement was strong during this period of reform, especially from those involved in Catholic Action and the Young Christian Worker Movements.

Delargy's emphasis on the lay apostolate in theology and liturgy set him apart from Archbishop Listen (Auckland), Cardinal McKeefry and Bishop Sneddon (Wellington), and Bishop Kavanagh (Dunedin).

The Clergy and Laity

Both clergy and laity faced challenges transitioning from a rigid ritual practice of worship to one where the liturgy itself was seen as the principal way the Church does its pastoral work.

In short, the advent of Pastoral Liturgy.

Priests, accustomed to meticulous liturgical manuals, grappled with adaptability and laity, used to non-participatory forms of worship now had to adapt to praying the Mass and the sacramental rites with the priest.

Celebrating the Mass to the people (missa cum populo) for the priests meant facing the congregation and for the congregants, it meant seeing the priest presiding.

Consequently, altars had to be repositioned and lecterns introduced because previously the priest had read the epistle and Gospel at the altar.

Using our vernacular languages (English and Maori) was not new, but it was different, and new texts for shared proclamation had to be written and learned.

Although the "Dialogue Mass" with bi-lingual missals in Latin and English had been introduced in 1939, and Maori congregations had participated in the Roman Canon's prayers for the dead, these changes to language, posture and inclusion were significant.

As an example, our language changed from "going to hear mass" on Sundays to "celebrating the liturgy", or "celebrating the Eucharist" on Sundays.

"Liturgy", became a new word that, also, unfortunately, covered a multitude of mistakes as well.

Contemporary Context

Since the Council the voices for the reinstatement of the 1962 Roman Missal and the rites before 1962 became more strident, creating the so-called "liturgical wars", which as Pope Francis wrote in Traditiones Custodes, has led to a division in the church through their rejection of the Second Vatican Council as the Church's highest teaching authority.

Given this division, Pope Francis, guided by the bishops of the Church, abrogated the pre-Vatican rites and reserved permission to use them to the Holy See.

He did this to preserve the unity of the Church, through the use of the liturgical rites promulgated by Saints Paul IV and John Paul II.

Pope Francis has also offered Bishops' Conferences the opportunity to adapt liturgical rites further to local culture, language, and use.

This allows for the revision of many prayers in the current 2010 translation, excluding the Eucharistic Prayer.

The biggest danger to the New Zealand Church at present is the loss of 60 years of work towards a Church that is pastorally focused through liturgical prayer and responsive to the Signs of the Times.

Without this, the "self-revealing God" of the Scriptures and Tradition is replaced with devotionalism.

Many parish communities are endangered by laity and clergy who disenfranchise local communities through clerical structures and mentalities that belong more to the past than they do to the present.

Marking 60 years of Sacrosanctum Concilium is an opportunity to consider what the New Zealand Church has been through, tell the story, and ask those joining the Church to respond to this history in positive and life-giving ways.

• Dr Joe Grayland is a Liturgical Theologian and is currently a visiting professor at the University of Tübingen (Germany). He has been a priest of the Diocese of Palmerston North for nearly thirty years. His latest book is: Catholics. Prayer, Belief and Diversity in a Secular Context (Te Hepara Pai, 2021).

The comments come in a warning from Archbishop Roger Houngbédji O.P. of Cotonou.

He has observed many "unruly" liturgical celebrations during his seven years as head of Benin's largest Catholic diocese.

Houngbédji has reminded priests, deacons, consecrated persons and laity of the archdiocese of numerous points concerning the attitude that should be adopted during the liturgy, particularly Mass.

"The practice of sometimes proclaiming liturgical texts or singing the responsorial psalm from a cell phone is prohibited" he told them.

In addition, he said that all "untimely movements" during the liturgy - particularly during the sign of peace - should stop.

Dress suitably for liturgy

Clothing was another issue on which the archbishop laid down the law.

His instructions said that people in the assembly should be careful how they dress for liturgy.

"Avoid, as far as possible, outfits that are too brightly coloured, too conspicuously printed or too imposing in shape.

"Skirts and dresses should be of decent length and not too tight.

"Similarly, revealing tops, crop tops that expose the chest, stomach or back, shocking tattoos, aggressive piercings and ripped jeans are contrary to the spirit of the liturgy."

Better homilies, music

Houngbédji is especially concerned about the quality of homilies in the archdiocese.

Priests in his diocese must "avoid vague and abstract homilies as well as useless ramblings that risk drawing attention more to the preacher than to the substance of the Gospel message" he told them.

Houngbédji also gave instructions to the archdiocesan liturgical commission members.

They must "work to remove tendentious songs from the liturgical repertoire" he told them.

He also reminded the one million or so Catholics of Cotonou that closing speeches are forbidden during the liturgy for funerals.

The only exceptions are words of thanks, which the presider must make.

"At Mass and before dismissal, no civil or military authority and no well-known benefactor of a parish community, whatever the importance of the services rendered, may speak publicly."

Reforms needed

Houngbédji, who was appointed archbishop in 2016, says the reforms he has propagated are necessary.

"Liturgical celebration cannot be content with unbridled ritual ordering, still less with individualistic attitudes left to the arbitrariness of each person" he says.

He says the instructions he has issued are based on observations he has made during pastoral visits throughout the archdiocese.

"Among the many questions I've been asked by the various parish communities is the question of harmonising liturgical gestures and practices" he says.

He says he has been "repeatedly challenged by Catholics on the urgency and necessity of working towards a better understanding of the faith and its proper celebration in the liturgy".

Maurice Hounmènou, the priest who heads the archdiocesan Commission for Liturgy and Sacred Art, notes the rise of liturgical personalism.

Hounmènou says this attitude has led to introducing "all kinds of prayers and devotions, testimonies, and so forth" into the Mass.

Source

• La Croix

We have our loves and our hates, our up days and down days, and the times when we just want to sit quietly and be left alone.

Moreover, these emotional swings are not simply mood swings or based on how we feel when we get up in the morning.

There are times of genuine rejoicing - both for us as individuals and members of families and for us as members of larger groups.

Likewise, there are hard, sad, lonely, and even dangerous times.

And then there are all the times when we "just are" - neither good nor bad, neither particularly joyful nor sad, and we just keep moving on.

As people, individually and as members of communities, with all the changes in what is going on around and in our lives, we gather to worship God and thank him as our Father in heaven.

So, how do these ups and downs in our circumstances affect us as we gather for liturgy?

A simple answer is to see the liturgy as one more service we consume.

On this reckoning, we should have unmitigated joy at weddings.

A similar joy is when a new child is welcomed among us - and most Christians have traditionally celebrated births with a baptism.

Then, we could have sympathetic sorrow and mourning at funerals. With darkened tones, we could express our solidarity with those suffering after a disaster - and "mourning with those who mourn" is very important.

Following this approach, a wedding - always the paradigm for human rejoicing as we see in Mt 9:15 - should provide us with many opportunities to express high spirits: it should be an occasion for fun.

Indeed, this is a formula used by those who want God-free secular ceremonies to satisfy the human need to ritualise our experience: it is always good to have an opportunity to ventilate and express how we feel deep down.

The Christian approach

But the Christian approach is far more complex.

At a wedding, we introduce a dark note when we speak about "until death" separates the couple.

Conversely, at a funeral, we speak of death being "swallowed up in victory", of life being "changed, not ended", and, with joy, of the angels leading the dead person into paradise.

Indeed, the most emotionally charged liturgical moment in the year - on the Friday recalling the crucifixion - we see that afternoon liturgy not as a stand-alone gathering but as one scene in a three-act drama.

It begins with the joy of Holy Thursday evening and ends with the exultation of the Easter Vigil. So to be present at the Good Friday liturgy without the other two gatherings, in effect, is to miss the whole point.

It is Good Friday in a series of three rejoicings - and on that afternoon, we emphasise the rejoicing in the Cross's victory over death.

That most emotionally charged day is not one of dark mourning, nor do we rejoice in suffering, but we are rejoicing because we do not believe that suffering, death, and decay have the last word.

No matter when we gather to worship, there is a note of joy in our gathering, and the question now becomes: why strike this joyful note even in the face of suffering?

One famous answer to this question is based in the thought of Ludwig Feuerbach (1804-72).

It takes this line: we humans cannot cope with the harsh facts of our universe, the painful reality that all ends in failure and decay, and so we make continued existence bearable to ourselves by projecting a story of the kind of world we wish for.

The note of joy is a necessary deceit: if we did not put the futility and darkness of existence out of our minds, we would either go insane or abandon all effort.

So, just as the medic knows that telling a sick person that "you're improving" can improve the patient's health, telling ourselves a joyful story acts as a pep-talk and gives us energy to face tomorrow.

This theme was famously taken up by Karl Marx (1818-83), a disciple of Feuerbach.

Marx described religion as "the opium of the people": religion, and the joy it makes us think about, acts like a painkiller - opium was one of the most effective analgesics in the nineteenth century - amidst life's pain.

So is our joy in liturgy a fraud?

Joy as a profession of faith

The joyfulness inherent within Christian liturgy is a primary expression of faith: the Christ has conquered death, and our redemption is "close at hand".

The cry Maranatha - "Come, Lord Jesus" - is not only one of the oldest cries of our gatherings (1 Cor 16:22; Didache 10; and Apoc 22:20) but sets the whole tone of our liturgy.

When asked about "professions of faith" in the liturgy, we usually think of reciting the creed or perhaps the occasional renewal of baptismal promises.

Indeed, the whole idea of professing faith tends to bring to mind an exam with questions and answers.

We get images in our heads of a string of questions like "Do you believe this?" and "Do you believe that?" and a quiz-like encounter as to whether if you believe X, then you must believe Y, or can you just believe X and avoid believing in Y!

But this entire formalised approach to questions about believing only makes sense if we already believe that the loving Father's purposes will be brought to a joyful conclusion.

Even in times of suffering, our joyfulness is the expression of this faith - which may or may not be formalised in creeds, questions, and catechisms.

Joy is at core of our vision.

So when we gather - for instance, at a funeral - the sadness of our loss as the small group who grieve the death of a loved one has to find support and understanding from the larger community.

Death is death, and loss is loss, and tears are real: Jesus wept at the death of his friend (Jn 11:35).

But within that larger gathering, we hear another theme that must stand alongside our mourning: "The last enemy to be destroyed is death" (1 Cor 15:26).

It was to capture this two-sided aspect of how we face the future that led to many of the changes in the liturgy in the 1970s.

Until then, the standard colour of vestments at a funeral was black (in European culture the colour of death and mourning).

This was replaced by white - the colour of joy and resurrection - or purple as the colour of sadness but without the note of dark finality expressed by black.

Likewise, the coffin used to be surrounded by four or six candles in brown (unbleached wax) - another sign of mourning.

Now, at the head of the coffin stands the great symbol of Easter: the Paschal Candle.

That candle - linked to Easter, baptism, and beginnings - is there because, for all our grief, we confess that we continue our journey through death to new life.

The funeral is but the most explicit case of something true of every liturgy: our individual sadness and loneliness need to encounter our community faith.

The gathered community is the sacrament through which the joy of the risen Lord encounters us.

Joy communityu

Joyfulness as a mark of the Church

Eating together is both a marker of our joy and contributes to it.

Can you imagine a wedding without a feast? Can you imagine sharing a meal with friends that did not produce some laughter?

The early Christians saw their eating and drinking together as joyful occasions, foretastes of the final banquet. Indeed, they imagined their Christian life together as a feast.

They saw this theme of joy and festival setting them apart from others: the Lord had come among them, the Lord had shown them a Way, the Lord risen from the dead, and was present at their meals.

Over the centuries, this sense of the joyful presence of the Lord when Christians gathered was often lost from sight.

In its place came gatherings that focused on sinfulness and unworthiness.

The Lord's presence in the community was reduced to concerns over presence as a commodity, and there was a general fear that expressions of joyfulness were frivolous or encouraged buffoonery!

Religion and worship were a serious business - and it could all be wrapped up and defined in fixed boundaries.

In this careful packaging joy, that spark that sets an occasion alive, was often the first casualty.

One of the challenges of Vatican II - and by its nature, a challenge that could not be put into a set of rules or promulgated as a text - was to find a way of acting so that liturgy is not just performing a routine, even one divinely authorised.

It was to be an activity of those who rejoice in their new life in the Christ, which expresses this spark of the unexpected, this joyfulness of those who somehow grasp the reality of being loved by God, this sense of belonging within the People of God, this spark of joy.

But how do we move from a perfunctory routine to this new joyful openness? This is the challenge that faces every group that sits down to think about liturgy.

There are no prescriptions - one cannot produce a formula that will produce joyfulness - but one can remove many obstacles.

Here are just a couple of examples.

First, we tend to confuse the sacred with the solemn, so we become so formal in our ways of celebrating that we exclude our spontaneity.

We see this in some of the formal dress bishops and cardinals rejoice in.

They claim it points to the sacred but is merely over-the-top formality. Solemnity is what it conveys - and then it is simply human pomposity.

Likewise, we tend to cut corners in any repeated activity - less is done (e.g. communion from the Tabernacle), and fewer people are involved (e.g. same people do the tasks each week).

We repeat ourselves (e.g., same stock phrases in introductions and prayers), which gives the impression that we are just going through the motions: another job!

Whenever we are joyful, we are fully engaged here and now!

Likewise, we often slip into an approach to worship akin to someone filling an order: so many prayers delivered as per instructions.

But if we behaved like this on any joyful occasion in the rest of our lives (birthdays, anniversaries, special occasions), we would soon be told the extent of our failure!

But perhaps most importantly, we have all become so familiar with what we do week in and week out that we grow bored to tears - the very opposite of joy.

This is the challenge of liturgy that we Catholics have yet to address.

Worship must witness to the living God

It is always instructive to see how people (both those who call themselves believers and those who reject belief) refer to the idea of "God".

The good people are the bores; what is nice is what is naughty!

An advert selling chocolate announces that it is so tempting it is sinful - yes, it is a joke, but a joke that only works if we have a vision of God as wanting us to be miserable.

How often have I heard reference to God as "the man upstairs?

The man upstairs (an image from a two-tier world of masters/servants) is watching you: and you reasonably ask what is the minimum you "can get away with".

The image of the man upstairs is incompatible we our belief that God is love - and it is that love we celebrate when we gather.

An earthquake kills thousands, and we refer to it as "an act of God", and now the notion of God equals the extent of our ignorance of plate tectonics.

Indeed, for most people (believers and unbelievers) God is a mean, old bully, and, indeed, a killjoy.

If we do anything in the liturgy that promotes, reinforces, or acquiesces in this false notion of God we become traitors to faith.

Writing to the Romans, Paul trotted out a little well-turned list of attitudes that he wanted to animate their gathering.

It was clearly a list that he had memorised - and wanted others to memorise - and that he had used on many occasions.

I think of it as a kind of ancient liturgical catechism - and the place that joy, rejoicing, and the spreading of joy has within it is significant.

Here it is:

Rejoice in your hope;

Be patient in tribulation;

Be constant in prayer;

Contribute to the needs of the saints;

Practice hospitality;

Bless those who persecute you;

Bless and do not curse them;

Rejoice with those who rejoice;

Weep with those who weep;

Live in harmony with one another;

Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly;

Never be conceited;

Repay no one evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all; [and]

If possible, so far as you can, live peaceably with all (Rom 12:12-8).

Joy is not icing on the liturgical cake: it should be its abiding flavor.

• Thomas O'Loughlin is a presbyter of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor-emeritus of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK).
• First published in La Croix International. Republished with permission.

Improved translations for the opening and post-Communion prayers are also under consideration.

The initiative was confirmed by Bishop Stephen Lowe, president of the New Zealand Catholic Bishops Conference and the bishops' representative on the International Commission on English in the Liturgy (ICEL).

The revised inclusive lectionary, a joint venture among the bishops' conferences from Australia, New Zealand and Ireland, will incorporate the Revised New Jerusalem Bible (RNJB).

Lowe cited the RNJB's affinity with the well-established Jerusalem Bible translation, currently approved for New Zealand, and for its embracing inclusive language.

The New Zealand Bishops' Conference has endorsed the project. "We await the same from our Australian and Irish counterparts," said Lowe.

The undertaking of the new lectionary is expected to span approximately three years.

During this phase, the conferences will spearhead a programme aimed at acquainting parishes and schools with the new edition.

New priest's prayers too

Since its introduction in 2011, New Zealand's Catholics have voiced concerns about the English used in the prayers of the Mass.

In 2011, Vox Clara a Vatican committee, pushed through an English translation that was more in line with the original Latin.

Direct translations from Latin, maintaining Latin syntax, have occasionally muddled the meaning in English, and the 'muddled meanings' is a prominent point emerging from New Zealand's Synodal feedback.

Reflecting on the potential of the improved Mass prayer translations as a solution to the existing translation's critiques, Lowe hinted at a solution with the release of a revised book of prayers the priest uses at Mass.

Welcoming the intent of the move, New Zealand liturgical theologian Dr Joe Grayland said the facility has been available to all bishops since September 3, 2017, when Pope Francis published Magnum Principium (The Great Principle).

In releasing Magnum Principium, Pope Francis emphasised the need for translations to

• remain loyal to the original text
• loyal to the language it is translated into, and
• be comprehensible to congregants

The Australian, Ireland and New Zealand bishops' solution keeps the status quo for the congregation's prayers and responses.

1998 Roman Missal translation

From 1983 - 2003, New Zealand Bishop Peter Cullinane was a respected member of the Episcopal Board of the International Commission for English in the Liturgy (ICEL).

It was a time when the 1998 Sacramentary was developed.

In 1998, all the bishops of the English-speaking world agreed on a translation of the Roman Missal.

However, also in 1998, the prefect of the Congregation of Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments, Cardinal Jorge Medina Estévez, blocked ICEL's work.

Medina, a Chilean, spoke no English and set up Vox Clara, a group of senior bishops from English-speaking countries.

Vox Clara held its inaugural meeting in Rome in April 2002 under the chairmanship of then-Archbishop George Pell of Sydney.

According to columnist Robert Mickens, Medina mercilessly bullied ICEL officials.

The universally acceptable and inclusive translation is not lost and is still available:

• The Sacramentary - Volume One - Part 1
• The Sacramentary - Volume One - Part 2
• The Sacramentary - Volume Two - Part 1
• The Sacramentary - Volume Two - Part 2

Sources

• NZ Catholic
• CathNews NZ
• CathNews NZ

It was expected by most of the bishops that it would ratify a series of documents prepared by the curia covering a raft of issues - but in essence, this was seen as an exercise in tidying up a few loose ends that had been debated since 1870 - and the whole affair would be over by Christmas.

The expectation of many bishops as they arrived in Rome in early October was that the council would involve just that single trip.

Some suspected that the Feast of the Immaculate Conception on December 8 would be a most appropriate day on which such an event could end, and so the bishops (allowing some time to visit Gammarelli's, the papal tailors, for some new kit) would be home well before Christmas.

Those bishops expecting a short, rather technical council were right about one thing: it ended on the Immaculate Conception feast, except that they got the year wrong. It ended on 8 Dec 1965 - three years and four ‘sessions' later - making it the second longest council in the history of the western church.

Moreover, what we would now call its ‘outputs' - formal documents ranging from binding constitutions to messages of goodwill - dwarf in volume, range, and complexity the productions of any previous council.

‘The documents of Vatican II' is a hefty paperback!

Then, on 4 December 1963, came the first bombshell: Sacrosanctum concilium. The liturgy would change.

Now, sixty years on, we have enough distance to take stock of where we are in relation to it.

Mixed messages

Some months ago, Pope Francis annoyed many who express their great regard for pre-1969 liturgical practices.

Francis stated that they might be using those liturgical claims as an excuse for a much wider rejection of the teaching of Vatican II.

Such a rejection, the pope has made clear now in several documents, is simply not an option for Catholics.

This position is clear and consistent: an ecumenical council with the approbation of the Bishop of Rome is the highest teaching authority.

While one can find any number of individuals - and their websites - who disagree with the pope on this and who view Vatican II with a range of attitudes from being "a rant by trendy liberals in the ‘60s" to it being the demonic invasion "foretold in Revelation 12," the situation is otherwise when it comes to bishops!

However, to a man, they are staunch supporters of Vatican II and add a few footnotes to it in everything they write.

But, one suspects that for some of them, this is simply ‘the party line.'

In fact, we all know that for some bishops - and quite a number of presbyters and deacons - their acceptance of Vatican II is little more than ticking the obligatory box and expressing the right sentiments.

There are many who would like to skip the council as a blip, and, since that is impossible, give it as minimal an interpretation as they can.

Would it be good to face this?

The idea that all the bishops appointed or all teachers in seminaries in the last 60 years would be equally enthusiastic about the vision of Vatican II is, of course, an illusion, albeit a pious one.

Even the credal text of Nicaea in 325 - which was, after all, what we today would refer to as a ‘convergent text' - left many of its signatories wondering whether they had gone too far.

But Catholic episcopal unanimity is a deeply entrenched illusion that has been fostered with care since the time of the Reformation.

While Protestants, those ‘others,' might speak with many voices and have ever more divisions, we Catholics speak clearly with one voice and all in harmony with and under Peter.

That was the theory; and for many, that is still the theory, and it is just that: a theory.

One has but to read some of the pastoral letters of several bishops - and they are present in every episcopal conference - to see that there are ‘church parties' as alive and well in the Catholic Church as they are in every other Christian communion!

The same range of attitudes can be found among presbyters - and the tensions can be felt in any number of parishes.

The claim, plus those few quotes from Vatican II documents, is that Vatican II is wholly accepted.

The reality is very different.

This pretence is unhealthy.

In a way, Pope Francis, in pointing out that liturgical ‘preferences' were/are being used as an analogue for rejecting the council, has lanced a boil.

Perhaps the time has come for an open discussion of whether or not we accept, partially accept, or reject what was set in train by Vatican II.

This would require jettisoning the myth that we all think ‘with Peter,' but it might inject honesty and realism into many debates in our communion.

A couple of decades ago, we still imagined that a ‘few bad apples' - with reference to sexual abuse by clerics - could be dealt with ‘discreetly.'

Now we know it was not only morally wrong but a mistake.

We might learn from that mistake.

There are deep tensions over the legacy of the Council.

Within the church, there has been a great deal of laziness in regard to studying its implications and this results in confused messages and practices.

There are some whose theological vision and/or pastoral approach is tantamount to a rejection of Vatican II, and it might be healthy to bring this into the open.

Bringing it into the open would indeed be in line with the pilgrim People of God ecclesiology advocated by the council.

Moment or process?

Some years ago, there was a wonderfully vibrant debate at a conference of theologians.

The debate concerned whether Vatican II, and its subsequent enactments was to be construed ‘strictly' in terms of what is written in its documents or was to be seen as the beginning of a process that began with John XXIII, window-pole in hand, and then continued with ‘the spirit of Vatican II.'

The debate rumbled on from the lecture room to the meals to the evening relaxation - without a clear victor.

What did become clear was that this was a clash of hermeneutical perspectives.

It is a version of the question as to whether the US Constitution should be interpreted in terms of its original eighteen-century moment - and to accept ‘the mind' of the framers as a limitation - or whether it should be interpreted in the light of the evolution of society and needs.

Likewise, this is the question of whether a text - even a sacred one - somehow contains the truth or is to be seen as a momentary witness within a trajectory?

These distinctions often overlap with the social binary of ‘conservative' / ‘liberal', but they are not identical, nor can they be mapped one onto the other.

Does Vatican II condemn us to theological ‘culture wars'?

From another perspective, is it possible that there is a genuine conciliar hermeneutic within theology - or are these approaches a function of individuals' epistemology?

I am convinced that there is a conciliar, and strictly theological, hermeneutic that has to be applied - and has been applied historically - to conciliar judgements and that this approach has to map onto our theology of tradition rather than be justified by an appeal either to a particular view of what constitutes a right judgement, a criteriology, or to a wider position within jurisprudence.

The argument can be sketched out in this way.

The church is a community ‘stretching out' over time, and so we never experience more than our moment - a tiny ‘slice' of the reality, a still within a movie.

In this, our koinonia is fundamentally different from a political institution whose public commitment is to a set of rules and procedures.

A community - as a living organism - is constantly changing, both for better and for worse, and no moment can be considered ‘golden' or definitive.

The Spirit is ever active - and there was no moment of a divine ‘go slow' such as after the last canonical book was written, the last ‘apostle' died, or some event such as Christianity becoming a religio licita in 313.

The Spirit, celebrated as active by Luke at Pentecost in Jerusalem, was celebrated as equally active at the council in 1962, and will be celebrated as just as active in the synod in 2023.

Only at the eschaton will the community ‘possess the truth' and, meanwhile, over the whole of her life, the Church relies on the leading and guiding of the Spirit.

But the Church is also truly human - and like the Logos made flesh exists in history - and so the Spirit is a presence, not a mechanism.

Similarly, the object of our koinonia is not the community itself (such as is the case in a political or judicial body), but the mission entrusted to it, which it must carry out ‘in season and out of season' (2 Tim 4:2).

The community, therefore, does not know the exact parameters of its task tomorrow any more than it knew yesterday what are today's challenges.

God, and our following, is full of surprises!

Moreover, when the church reflects - in a local community, a regional synod, or ecumenically in a council - her ‘object' is always beyond definition.

When the church imagines that God, or the mystery of the Christ, or the mystery of salvation can be defined, she has forgotten the very first element of monotheism: the divine is always greater than can be imagined, and all our statements are momentary stutters.

We need to refine, renew, and re-invigorate them continually - once they get ‘stuck,' they rapidly lose their value.

We know this when we refuse to surrender to textual literalism or to confuse revelation with a book, but it is a temptation to falsehood that we must shun as an insidious virus.

If we freeze the moment of a council, we deny that through its dynamic influence, the Spirit might be active now in the Church.

Moreover, Nicaea was revisited by Constantinople, then by Chalcedon, then by any number of Western councils - until in the aftermath of Trent, we had one Christology being preached by the Jesuits - the Sacred Heart - and another by the Redemptorists - the Merciful Redeemer - and any number of combinations.

But these were at odds not just with one another but with the Nicene vision.

But we lived with this because each theology was a sincere attempt to get around the problems of late medieval scholasticism.

Our responses to the divine cannot be grasped in any one way.

Our expressions of our worship and its abstraction as teaching constantly evolves.

We never step into the same river twice, but there is a river for we live within it.

Vatican II was but a moment in the process, and being loyal to it (as to any council) is a dynamic affair of seeking out, in the Spirit, its spirit rather than its letter.

In this sense, it does not matter whether we are six or sixty years after Vatican II: this was the last time we came together in such a meeting, and so we must journey in its wake - far more elusive than its text - until there is another.

This constant journeying is not only what will allow us to grow towards a deeper life together within the Catholic Church but is the way forward in our relations with other churches.

… never deformed?

There is an adage that ‘the church is ever in need of reform but has never been deformed.'

This is similar to the dilemma of the washing powder brands who are always pitching ‘the new, improved formula' powder but are unwilling to admit that the older stuff was not as good as the competition and might even have been useless!

Three and half centuries of telling Protestants that they were mistaken when the said Rome had lost its way (e.g. in using an academics' language for worship), and nine centuries of telling the East that there was no basis for their complaints about what the west did in either practice (e.g. introducing unleavened wafers at the Eucharist) or theology (e.g. adding ‘and the Son' to the creed) had left their mark.

When Vatican II wanted to introduce changes, it felt compelled to do so while insisting that there was nothing wrong with what was already there!

This, perhaps naturally, produced a reaction to the council's innovations akin to the mechanics' maxim: ‘if it ain't broke, don't fix it!'

If something was ‘fit for purpose' one day, why was it unfit the next?

And, if the council's teaching was the polar opposite of what went before (e.g. Unitatis redintegratio (1964) compared with Mortalium animos (1928)), then were we wrong then [i.e. in the old position] or are we wrong now [i.e. having changed it]?

The position was, and is, made more confusing in that in most documents - indeed, in texts still being written - there is a lengthy praise of the older position to show, ingeniously, that nothing has changed.

The effect of this strategy - saying nothing has changed [when it has] and we have never erred [when we must have or we could not have had to make such drastic changes] - is dispiriting and, more perniciously, generates a suspicion that it is but a game of words or ‘the fashion' of those in office.

It would be far better both for our appreciation of the Council and its changes, and for our ongoing relationships with other churches if we just put our hands up and confessed: yes, we did get things wrong in the past, confusions and bad practices did embed themselves, and for every development of doctrine and practice that we find valuable there was a another that is corrupt.

Only when openly asserting our inherited defects can we appreciate that change was needed and that the result is a true reform.

Moreover, as a conscious attempt ‘to renew all in the Christ' (Eph 1:10), Vatican II is more than just an option.

In short, after 60 years, implementing Sacrosanctum concilium is still very much a work in progress.

• Thomas O'Loughlin is a presbyter of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor-emeritus of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His latest book is Discipleship and Society in the Early Churches.
• His latest book is "Shaping the Assembly: How Our Buildings form us in Worship".

O'Loughlin suggests that the arrangement of space is often overlooked, but we constantly refer to it.

It plays a pivotal role in our lives, he writes.

"We want ‘round table talks' and do not want to be put in the back row.

"They are taking my space.

"This place is homely.

"We need to de-clutter" - are all examples the Emeritus Professor of Historical Theology at the University of Nottingham uses to make his point.

O'Loughlin observes that buildings in every society have been used to project power, regulate society and reflect group identity. However, their role in religious worship is profound, and he notes that every religion and Christian denomination has utilised buildings as integral parts of their worship.

"In every society, buildings have been used to project power and authority, to regulate society and to project an image of how that group sees itself," he writes.

Bringing together a diverse group of nineteen Christians including liturgists, pastors, architects and artists from around the globe, the book seeks to answer the pressing question of how space affects the act of worship.

Among the contributors are three prominent New Zealanders: Dr Joe Grayland, a liturgist and Parish Priest from Palmerston North; Judith Courtney, former Auckland diocese liturgy coordinator; and Peter Murphy, a Papakura Parish Priest and former spiritual director at Holy Cross seminary.

The book offers a global perspective, with insights from New Zealand, Japan, Australia, France, the UK, Ireland and the US, and sheds light on how, in different cultural settings, the environment and ritual practices together shape the liturgical experience.

Richard Vosko, a US theologian and architectural consultant, contributes a thought-provoking piece suggesting that religious buildings, from churches to mosques, serve as societal symbols.

They reflect the relationship between the worshipping group and the broader society.

However he warns of a growing disconnect, with churches becoming less relational.

This shift, exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic and societal challenges like 'politically partisan pastors and administrative corruption', has led to a decline in church participation.

Vosko calls for a reimagining of liturgical spaces to be more egalitarian.

Grayland's contribution focuses on the call for active participation in worship, as highlighted in Sacrosanctum Concilium.

He discusses the evolving demands on liturgical practice, especially post-pandemic, and underscores the need for a new kind of ritual environment.

His insights suggest that New Zealanders are seeking dynamic, inclusive liturgical experiences.

Meanwhile, Courtney and Murphy discuss the challenges and roadblocks inherent in liturgical change.

They highlight that, while community needs have evolved, many churches built in recent years in the Auckland diocese still adhere to a traditional design.

As the world grapples with rapid change, the conversation around the role of space in shaping our spiritual experiences remains more pertinent than ever.

• Thomas O'Loughlin is a presbyter of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor-emeritus of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His earlier book is Discipleship and Society in the Early Churches.
• His latest book is "Shaping the Assembly: How Our Buildings form us in Worship".

Some assume that I am one of those academic types that enjoy asking irrelevant questions; others simply say that they haven't got a clue about what I am talking about.

We had better face an awkward truth: while theologians and clergy are agog about synodality - some eager, some disdainful - for a very large proportion of the People of God, it is just some complicated new idea that makes little sense.

I had better clarify what I mean by ordinary Catholics.

By ordinary Catholics, I mean someone who

• is not a cleric
• nor a member of some special group within the Church (such as a prayer group, or the choir, or the parish council), and
• who probably does not subscribe to any special religious news service whether it is CathNews or The Tablet -
• and who probably just passes by the various leaflets, magazines, and diocesan papers that are at the back of church buildings.

So, the question arises: what will reach this large group of sisters and brothers? How will their experience of being disciples be touched and enhanced by our turn towards synodality?

Experiencing synodality

If this whole movement is to be more than just words, it must give disciples a richer liturgical experience. This is because it is at the liturgy that most ordinary Catholics have their experience of what it means to be Church.

That experience must, somehow, to do three things:

• It must engage them as individuals within a community.
• It must, to be true to the fundamental insight of synodality, involve a deeper listening to the word of God and to one another.
• It must lead to a greater sense of their own dignity as brothers and sisters in baptism who are called as a people to offer praise and thanksgiving to the Father.

If synodality is about renewal in the Spirit, a renewal of liturgy is one of the forms it must take.

What will it look like?

In this arrangement, the Word of God is being shared among the gathering in the University Parish in Leuven, Belgium.

The assembly is arranged so that it is a community-event of listening. They are not consuming a message being dispensed from the front of a lecture hall.

We are the people of memory. Only when we recall "the mighty acts of God" can we recognize our identity as disciples of the Christ.

Listening is not just hearing words; it is giving the words a chance to seep into us. Yet most ordinary Catholics are arranged in row after row like children in an old-fashioned classroom.

We now know that the lecture hall only works as a communication venue for those already highly involved, but (60 years after the liturgy reform) this much better format is strange to most Catholics.

It is worth noting that in this church-building they did no elaborate re-building work - they just put the chairs in a rough circle because this allows people to feel they are a community and it helps focus people in their listening.

We are all celebrants

The great shift in liturgy at Vatican II was a move from the notion of a presbyter who celebrates on behalf of the baptized to the recognition that we, as God's sons and daughters, are all celebrating God's goodness. We are all celebrants.

But how does the ordinary Catholic get an experience of this?

We are not consumers at the Eucharist. We are guests.

This photograph allows us to recall the words of the First Eucharistic Prayer:

Remember, Lord, your men-servants (famuli) and your women-servants (famulae), indeed all who are standing around (omnes circumstantes) …

We are a celebrating community.

If synodality is to take root, it will require an experience of solidarity in discipleship.

In an arrangement like this, that solidarity can become a weekly experience.

• Thomas O'Loughlin is a presbyter of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor-emeritus of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His latest book is Discipleship and Society in the Early Churches.