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PAGE 5—April 26, 1973
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The Rock!
BY BROTHER JAMES P. CLIFTON, C.F.X.
If there is anything that clearly marks the times in which we
live it is the fact of change. Not that change itself is new; it is an
essential element of all created things. But our age is different:
the changes that are occurring are extensive, fundamental, and
they are taking place with unsettling rapidity.
Furthermore, no one and no thing is so sacred as to be able to
escape the effects of these changes. Institutions, customs, values
-- all are changing or at least are being challenged to change.
In addition, we are acutely, and even painfully, aware of the
changing world around us. Because of the phenomenal advances
in communications, we are quickly informed of what is
happening not only on the national but also on the world-wide
scene. Sometimes the instant communication of events triggers
other events that will be communicated in turn almost instantly.
But what of the effects on us of all these changes? The
reactions are as many and as varied as the changes themselves.
Some people are apparently unaffected, and even comfortable
with change. But for most, the upheaval is at least disconcerting
if not frightening. Some have chosen to leave this mad world
behind and retreat to simpler and older life styles on “new
frontiers,” in communes or religious sects.
Others nostalgically recall and insist on the “good old days,”
in an effort to close out the reality that is present and future -
and certainly more demanding. Even the search for “law and
order” at some level is a reaction to forces of change that are
seen as threats to well-established and comfortable values and
ways of doing things. These are some ways of handling
disturbing change. Each of us in some fashion handles the
changing surroundings so as to establish some stability and
serenity in life -- real or imaginary.
The Judaeo-Christian tradition has found its ultimate source
of stability in God. And in this there is a paradox. For the Rock
which provides safety and strength for the fears of man is a
living rock. He is the creator of those things and forces that are
of their very nature changeable. For them, not to change means
stagnation and death.
His plan, of course, is that all of his creation, especially man,
will change and move in the direction which he has ordained.
What makes change frightening is that other forces - selfishness,
greed, ignorance - vitiate the good that change can produce.
Even change itself can become destructive and evil when it
becomes a god, when it becomes an end in itself.
There is one aspect of movement and change, however, that
persistently touches us all. Paradoxically again, while we
recognize that creatures that do not change are dead or dying,
all changing creatures ultimately move toward death.
Underneath all of modern man’s anxiety about times that are
“out of joint” is that fear - the fear of dying societies, customs,
institutions (even the Church itself), values and man himself.
It is precisely in such circumstances that the Christian must
recognize God as his Rock. He alone stands firm above his
changing creation, supporting those who rely on him and
promising only good to those who trust in him. Such trust,
however, is not a call to passivity or indifference. The Christian
must work for those changes that the living Rock demands. He
must engage himself in God’s creation but always in a critical
and constructive manner. Finally, he must not despair of this
world and its movement toward God’s mysterious goal.
(NC Photo by Ray Barth)
“SOME HAVE CHOSEN TO LEAVE this mad
world behind and retreat to simpler and older life
styles . . .” In Darlington, Wis., Orville and Mary Gille
occasionally retreat to the spare room of their farm
house which they have furnished the way it was when
they married in 1935. Gille brings in an armload of
wood for the stove on which his wife cooks a meal for
old times’ sake.
Taking our stand on him, we know where we are. Something
permanent holds us up; not just slippery mud or shifting, sliding
sand. Not the treachery of watery depths (the Israelites were
deathly afraid of traveling on water). But unshakeable rock.
“Trust in God, and not in princes.” Pharaoh is a broken reed
who cannot support you. God is (in a modern theologian’s
term) “the ground of being.”
Everything we know rests on something else, is held up and
supported by still another. What holds up the whole universe
and keeps it all together? God.
And when all else falls away, what is left? God. When all
“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; my
God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; my shield and the horn of
my salvation; my stronghold” (Psalm 18, Iff.).
This God is the one foundation of all true faith. That faith is
as solid as Job’s: “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” It
is stronger than death, and can say confidently with David:
“Thou wilt not leave my soul in Hades, nor let thy Holy one see
corruption.”
Such faith in God our rock took Jesus through death to
resurrection. It can take us that way, too.
(NC Photo)
“GOD OUR ROCK is the solid base on which we can
always find a secure place to stand. When everything
else about us seems to be shifting, sliding, changing,
fading before our eyes, God stands firm.” The
towering shrine of St. Michael’s on the Needlepoint in
Le Puy, France, celebrated its 1,000th anniversary 11
years ago. Built atop a needle-like stone formation, it is
accessible only by 268 steps cut from the side of the
rock.
Grownups at weddings or communal Baptisms are not
inclined to fashion paper toys out of participation booklets. But
these people do have a tendency so to fix their attention on the
published text that they fail to catch fully what happens before
them during the celebration.
Are there any alternatives? The two suggestions which follow
do not exactly resolve the difficulty, but they can promote the
kind of uncomplicated response we seek.
First, repeated use of the same melodies for pivotal parts of
Mass until they can be sung from memory by the congregation.
Those sections would be, for example, the “Holy, holy, holy
Lord,” the memorial acclamations and great Amen, the “Lamb
of God” and perhaps the “Our Father.”
This may appear either an unrealistic task or a procedure sure
to produce through extended repetition an irritating boredom.My
experiences in two quite distinct parish circumstances indicates
it is neither. On the contrary, congregational singing has been
strongest precisely during those portions of eucharistic
celebrations.
Secondly, frequent employment of antiphonal and litany
type songs and prayers.
This conflict between experienced change in the Church,
together with the expectation of an unchangeable Church, is at
the core of so much confusion and suffering in the Church
today. Many Catholics do not know how to reconcile the
change they experience with the ideal of unchanging stability
they have come to expect.
The key to dealing with the conflict can be found in an
understanding of the Church’s idea of the development of
doctrine. That the Church would grow and develop - change -
is a sign of normal, good health.
It is sobering to recall the exciting symbols Jesus uses of
God’s kingdom here on earth. It is like a “mustard seed” (Mt.
13:31-32), like “yeast in dough (Mt. 13:33-34), like a “grain of
wheat” (Jn. 12:24). Each symbol suggests growth - change - as
a sign of health and vitality. However, an understanding of
doctrinal development needs to find roots in a personal
attachment to God in faith.
What does not change but alone provides the ground of
security and stability is God. God alone is the “Rock” (2 Sam.
22:3). Already in the Old Testament the Jews learned that
faithfulness to their tradition involved development and change.
They clung to God, their Rock of refuge. Faith in him carried
them through upheavals in their religious life that makes our
present time of change in the Church seem insignificant by
comparison.
The Gospels describe Jesus’ telling Simon that from now on
he is to be called “Peter,” meaning “Rock.” Upon this rock
Jesus will build his Church. Notice that the Church is not the
rock. Peter’s faith - “you are the Christ, the Son of the Living
God” (Mt. 16:18) - is the secure rock on which the Church is to
be built.
Jesus’ promise is no less true today. The Church will remain
true to Christ’s commission to the extent that Catholics grow in
a more mature faith in God. “With you, my highest good, my
God, with you I am secure.” (Ps. 73).
Thus, the responsorial psalm following the first scriptural
reading at Mass, really designed for singing, not recitation,
works well when done according to such arrangements by
composers like Deiss or Gelineau. In this approach, a cantor or
the choir handles the verses, the congregation sings the antiphon
or refrain. The latter are easily memorized and repeated perhaps
a half dozen times. People in the pews gain confidence with
each reiteration of the refrain and the strength of their response
manifests this.
“IT SEEMS TO ME . . . people worship better when
they have nothing in their hands, when songs and
words spring directly from the heart and not out of the
(NC Photo by Jack Hamilton
printed page.” A priest leads a group of young men in
spontaneous prayer as they gather close by the altar.
BY FATHER CARL J. PFEIFER, S.J.
“Everything is flowing!” “All things constantly change!”
Three thousand years ago a Greek professor, named Heraclitus,
taught his students that all of reality is in constant flux. Nothing
is stable or solid.
Life, he said, was like a river. You could never step twice into
the same river because during the time you stepped out, the
flowing water your feet had first touched would have passed by.
In many ways the insight of that old philosopher describes
well our present situation of rapid change. Not only does
everything seem to be changing, but the speed of change is
accelerating.
Change at so rapid a pace can be quite unsettling. It often
seems as if there is nothing to hold on to, nothing stable or
solid. “Everything is flowing!”
It is not surprising that many Catholics, caught up in the
turnover of experiences in most areas of life, look to their
Church for security. At least here, in the Church, there will be
stability and security. However, Catholics are often disturbed to
learn that change is a very real part of the Church, too. A few
moments of reflection on the Catholic Church we experienced
twenty years ago and the Church we experience today suggests
the staggering scope of change in the Catholic Church.
Change in the Church is something the average Catholic has
not been prepared for. We have looked upon the Church as a
rock of refuge, the storm-tossed but solid ship of Peter.
Singing & Praying By Memory
BY FATHER JOSEPH M. CHAMPLIN
In the midst of all the controversy over what type of
participation aids serve best the cause of good liturgy, I think a
fundamental principle can be overlooked. That truth, it seems
to me, is this: people worship better when they have nothing in
their hands, when songs and words spring directly from the
heart and not out of the printed page.
I am not here about to argue for the immediate (or eventual)
elimination of hymnals and hand missals nor will I take sides in
the debate about including or excluding texts from monthly
missalettes and weekly Mass leaflets. Instead, it is merely my
contention that in the ideal setting worshipers would have no
need of such printed matter to help them pray publicly.
A few illustrations may prove my point.
Those who have celebrated special children’s Masses know
what a potential disaster song sheets or Mass leaflets are in the
hands of grammar school youngsters. These pieces of paper
make excellent airplanes, double beautifully as fans, fold in an
infinite variety of ways and produce a funny sound when waved
back and forth.
The revised American edition of the funeral liturgy is another
illustration. After Mass at the rite of final farewell, the official
ritual offers an optional litany of invocations to Jesus Christ.
“By your coming as man, by your birth and burial, by your
rising to new life . . .” The congregation supports each with a
plea, “Lord, save your people.” It requires only a sentence of
explanation by the celebrant (“Please respond, ‘Lord, save your
people’ after each of the following petitions”) to elicit the
desired united, vocal reply.
In the new liturgy for Baptism, we have an additional
instance of litany-type prayer. One invocation of God over
baptismal waters calls for a suitable acclamation like “Blessed be
God” after every declaration by the priest or deacon. Again, a
single sentence by the celebrant informing the community of
the proper reply and encouraging it, will bring an excellent
reaction.
God Is Our Solid Base
BY FATHER QUENTIN QUESNELL, S.J.
We can never name God properly. No matter what we try to
say about him there is always something wrong with it. Yet we
can never stop trying to talk about God.
When we call him “the Holy One,” we really are saying that
he is. so far apart and so different that any words we use about
him tend to lose their proper meaning.
When we call him “the Lord,” we really are saying more
God —
about ourselves than about him - simply confessing that all our
world belongs to him and depends on him in every way;
admitting that all we do and all that happens takes place only
with his knowledge and consent.
Since we cannot talk about God directly and properly and
clearly, we resort to picture-words. The Bible does this all the
time. For instance, the Bible calls God “the Rock.”
But even an inspired picture-word like that one gives us little
information about God in himself. Mostly it tells us about God’s
relation to us, or rather our relation to God. He is our rock, he
is for us “a rock of salvation,” a “rock of refuge,” our “rocky
fortress.”
God our rock is the solid base on which we can always find a
secure place to stand. When everything else about us seems to be
shifting, sliding, changing, fading before our eyes, God stands
firm. He is always there.
possessions melt in your hand and trickle through your fingers,
what can still be yours? God.
In so much of our daily life, God can seem so unreal, so far
away, so insubstantial and so abstract. Irrelevant. But let the
rest die away, fall silent, wither, fade, die - as they all do
eventually.
Then what is left us? In the resulting silence, the sound of
him will be deafening. In the remaining emptiness, his presence
will be overwhelming. God stands. God endures. God is. The
everlasting hills, the immortal rock.
It is this same rock to whom we flee when under attack by
enemies. Doubt, discouragement, depression - their arrows
cannot reach us there. High up on our rock, we are safe. Nothing
can dislodge us, so long as we cling to him. And looking out
from our rocky height, we can see over and beyond the forces
pitted against us. We can judge their true strength, gain courage
for the future, plan our counter-attack.
(Know Your Faith)
God—Our Rock of Refuge!
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