I came upon this excellent story from Catholic News Agency about comments made recently by Cardinal Antonio Canizares Llovera, the prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments. (One could say he carries a bit of influence and has the ear of the Holy Father.) The cardinal discusses the centuries-old Catholic tradition of receiving Communion kneeling and on the tongue, and makes some pretty strong recommendations for Catholics today.
“It is to simply know that we are before God himself and that He came to us and that we are undeserving,” the prefect of the Vatican's Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments said in an interview with CNA during his visit to Lima, Peru.Emphasis added
The cardinal’s remarks came in response to a question on whether Catholics should receive Communion in the hand or on the tongue.
He recommended that Catholics “receive Communion on the tongue and while kneeling.”
Receiving Communion in this way, the cardinal continued, “is the sign of adoration that needs to be recovered. I think the entire Church needs to receive Communion while kneeling.”
Wow. I don't think it is a stretch to say that these are bombshell comments. No doubt, many (and I mean many) will try to sweep these remarks under the rug as simply the solitary opinion of a hidebound prelate, but given Cardinal Llovera's prominent position within the Church, how can they be totally glossed over and ignored?
Kneeling is not really a part of our egalitarian culture today. But it is very much a part of our liturgical culture. So explained then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger in The Spirit of the Liturgy:
The Christian liturgy is a cosmic liturgy precisely because it bends the knee before the crucified and exalted Lord. Here is the center of authentic culture—the culture of truth. The inability to kneel is seen as the essence of the diabolical. ... A faith or liturgy no longer familiar with kneeling would be sick at the core.
When we see someone bend the knee in adoration, so rare is the gesture that it can elicit a double-take. Observing others receive Communion kneeling, and to kneel for oneself, reinforces and accentuates, both externally and internally, the reality of Who is being received. This isn't business as usual. Some may see this matter as trivial. "Stand, kneel, on the tongue, in the hand...what's the difference?" I think it is most important however, and the widespread insouciance on the issue on the part of so many Catholics proves the point that Cardinal Llovera is trying to make.
This is an issue that has occupied me for some time. As someone who was reared in the Communion in the hand culture of the 1980s, I have to say that reverence toward the Blessed Sacrament was not reinforced with this method of reception.
I am not someone who wistfully longs for the good ole days of my youth when it comes to matters liturgical. Those were not the days of Latin, beautifully embroidered fiddlebacks, haunting chant, plumes of aromatic incense and mystery. No, they were the days of schmaltzy English, multicolored, polyester vestments, sappy liturgical hymns, pastel ribbons, banners and cacophony. Often, the self-determined au courant critics of traditional Catholics impugn calls for the return of certain elements of liturgical life as being not "with the times" and, God forbid, if they were ever implemented, would only serve to alienate those on the outside. "They'd make us look weird before the outside world."
Traditional Catholics themselves are often caricatured as quondam desperados, irrationally enamored with a bygone era, long since dead and buried that, God help us, should never again be allowed to see the light of day in mainstream Catholic life. Those devoted to the old ways of liturgy are treated as oddities within the Church, attached to a bizarre, medieval fetish. So, to placate this bunch, a parish or two within a diocese might offer the old Mass. But dream on if you think that every or most parish, or heaven forbid, the cathedral itself, will begin to offer its parishioners the option of attending Mass in the usus antiquior once a week or even monthly. "You have your parish where you can do your thing, just don't get too ambitious."
It is true that many older Catholics have expended much time, talent and treasure to eradicate the memory of what liturgical life used to be like, you know, the beautiful, thousand-plus-year-old way. So in a certain sense, the deep frustration they now experience at the emerging indicators of a more traditional liturgical life is understandable, given the sure conviction that their hard work had paid off and that the ancien régime was finished for good. But then something unexpected happened: A younger generation surfaced and inexplicably began displaying a keen interest in their own Catholic past and identity. Fortunately, not all of the shreds of tradition had been swept away in the period of iconoclasm. Great damage was done, but it was not total and irrevocable. In a certain sense, the patronizing liturgical silliness forced on us served only to accentuate our desire, our thirst, for something different, timeless and inspiring. The more we read about our past, probed the mystery and absorbed the beauty, and compared it with what we had been exposed to for the past twenty or thirty years, the noise and the silliness of it all, greater still was the sense that we had been missing out on something great. Had we been gypped? Why not set out to recover our past?
That is why, from the perspective of a young Catholic, stories like this one from CNA are so encouraging. We know that, much to the squirming and worrying of certain iconoclasts, there are individuals in positions of authority within the Church that actually agree with us and are fighting on our side.
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