I want to give two thumbs up for good old-fashioned experience—just experiencing life to the fullest. Too often in today’s hurried age, in these times of 24×7 news, we rush past experience right to analysis. We insist on knowing immediately what something “means” and what we should think about it. This rush to analyze often happens before the experience is even over. And, of course, analyzing something before all the facts are in can lead to incorrect conclusions. Two sayings come to mind:
Don’t think, look! We miss so much of life when we retreat into our brains to begin immediate analysis. I recently went to an art exhibit called “The Sacred Made Real.” Upon entry, I was handed a thick pamphlet describing each of the works. Instead of diving into the pamphlet, I chose to wander through and gazed upon each marvelous work. Some of them were mysterious to me, but the mystery was part of the experience. Only later did I go back and read about each work. I noticed many people buried in their pamphlets, barely giving the actual artwork a glance. Most of their time was spent reading. Others had headphones on, listening to descriptions of the art, which allows a better look but still fills the mind with information too soon. Another variant on this saying is “Don’t think, listen!” So often when listening to others, we pick up the first few words or sentences and then stop listening so we can start thinking about what we’re going to say next.
Don’t just do something, stand there! With all of our activism, we seldom savor life. Few people rest on the Sabbath anymore. Few eat dinner with their families. Few even know how to relax. Vacations are often packed so full of activities that there is little time to actually experience what one is doing. I live near the U.S. Capitol and often see people so busy taking pictures that I wonder if they ever really see or experience the Capitol.
Even within the sacred liturgy we often get things wrong today. Consider the following:
It’s a First Holy Communion or perhaps a wedding. As the children or the bride come down the aisle, dozens of cameras and cell phones are held aloft. Flashes go off, creating an annoying strobe effect. People scramble to get into better positions for a picture. In recent years, I have had to forbid the use of cameras. For a wedding, the bride and groom are permitted to hire a professional photographer. For First Holy Communion and Confirmation, we permit one professional photographer to take pictures for the entire group. I instruct the assembly that the point of the liturgy is to worship God, to pray, and to experience the Lord’s ministry to us. I insist that they put away their cameras and experience the sacrament being celebrated and the mysteries unfolding before them.
A few years ago, I was privileged to be among the chief clergy for a Solemn High Pontifical Mass in the Old Latin Form at the Basilica here in D.C. It was my first experience with this liturgy, and it was quite complicated. We rehearsed the day before, and as the rehearsal drew to a close, I said to whole crew of clergy and servers, “OK, tomorrow during the Mass, don’t forget to worship God!” We all laughed because we know easy it is to get so wrapped up in thinking about what is coming next or in what we need to do next that we forget to pray! The next day, I told God that no matter what, I was here to worship Him. I am grateful that He gave me a true spirit of recollection at that Mass. I did mix up a minor detail, but I experienced God and did not forget to worship Him. Success! Thank you, Lord!
The Mass is underway in a typical Catholic parish. Something remarkable is about to happen: the Lord Jesus is going to speak through the deacon, who ascends the pulpit to proclaim the Gospel. Yes, that’s right; Jesus Himself will announce the Gospel to us. As the deacon introduces the Gospel, all are standing out of respect. Five hundred pairs of eyes are riveted … on the deacon? No! In fact, many eyes are riveted on the missalette. Halfway through the Gospel, the Church is filled with the sound of hundreds of people turning the pages of their missalettes (with one or two dropping them in the process). Sadly, most lose the experience of the proclamation of God’s Word with their heads buried in a missalette. They may as well have read it on their own. I know that some will argue that this helps them understand the reading better, but the liturgy is meant to be experienced as a communal hearing of the Word proclaimed.
I celebrate a good number of Wedding Masses in the Old Latin Form. Some years ago, a couple prepared a very elaborate booklet so that people could follow along and understand every detail of the Old Latin Mass. Of itself, it was a valuable resource. They asked me if, prior to Mass, I would briefly describe the booklet and how to use it. I went ahead and did so but concluded my brief tour of the book by saying, “This is a very nice book and will surely make a great memento of today’s wedding, but if you want my advice, put it aside now and just experience a beautiful Mass with all its mystery. If you have your head in a book you may miss it and forget to pray. Later on you can read it and study what you have experienced.” In other words, “Don’t think, look!”
In the ancient Church, the catechumens were initiated into the “Mysteries” (the Sacraments of Initiation) with very little prior instruction as to what would happen. They had surely been catechized in the fundamental teachings of the faith, but the actual details of the celebration of the sacraments were not disclosed. They were sacred mysteries and the disciplina arcanis (the discipline of the secret) was observed. They simply experienced these things and were instructed as to their deeper meaning in the weeks that followed (in a process known as mystagogia). Hence, experience preceded analysis, understanding, and learning. The very grace of the experience and the sacraments provided the foundation for that understanding.
I realize that this post will not be without some controversy. Let me be clear about one point: catechesis is important, but so is experience. If we rush to analyze and decode everything, we risk missing a lot. I have taught on the liturgy extensively in this blog (http://blog.adw.org/tag/mass-in-slow-motion/) and will continue to do so. There is a time to study and learn, but there is also a time to be still and experience what God is doing in every liturgy—indeed in every moment of our lives.