Change for the Better

Regardless of where you stood during the tumult of the 1960s and the cultural erosion of the 1970s, time has passed; perhaps enough to give us a better, hopefully more mature, understanding of the events of those days. For the Church, it was a time of tumult and upheaval, too. For people like me, brought up with a love of tradition which the years have only deepened, the assault on the Church was embodied in the controversy over the ordination of women to the priesthood. We saw it as an assault on ancient Catholic Order, a denial of apostolic tradition.

Since those troubulous times, my thoughts on that topic have changed little.

Other controversies gnawed at the Church, too, but at the time they seemed less crucial. Paramount of these was the change to the Church’s liturgy. At the time it was passed off as simply an “updating” of our worship, enabling the Church to keep pace with the changes going on around us. I didn’t care much for the new rites: the language was pedestrian, the multiplicity of options (Rites One, Two or Three; Prayers A, B or C) gave off an odor of “change for change sake.” But to my way of thinking the battle was elsewhere. Banal liturgy wasn’t fatal, but you closed your eyes (and ears) and “thought of England.” (A good friend once remarked of the New Rites: “No one denies Jesus is present in the new Mass, He is. But He’s there s reluctantly as everybody else!”)

It’s thirty-five years since those days. Female bishops are now commonplace and up-to-the-minute new rites are being written everyday (with brand new liturgies now required for homosexual weddings and divorce celebrations!). The impact of the changes is not what was promised, though perhaps it is what was by some envisioned.

Today, as I ponder that time of troubles, I see things a bit differently. Yes, with the priesting of women Catholic Order was abandoned. But with the profound alteration of the liturgy an axe was driven into roots than run very deep in the psyche of Christian worship. Though the new rites retain old titles, it’s not just the language of the Book of Common Prayer, or the structure of its liturgies, which have been changed—the underlying notion of Common Prayer itself.

The Prayer Book isn’t just collection of venerable and ancient rites. It’s a purposeful gathering together of 2,000 years of Catholic worship, arranged and organized to form a group of Christians into a worshiping community. Common Prayer gives us a common faith, a common practice and a common life. We may not live up to it, but that’s why it was put together centuries ago. The tradition of Common Prayer means to form us, to change us into Jesus’ disciples, believing and doing what Christians have believed and done since the Holy Ghost came down that first Whitsunday. The new approach to things is not that we should be formed, but that we can now form and create a new faith, believing and doing what we think should be believed and done.

If somebody wants to make up a new religion, it’s their affair. But for those who want to hold the Faith which never changes, let’s not look for ways to improve it; let’s bring it to life by living Common Prayer in the parish it’s pleased God to place us. There’s a real way to change things!—Fr Gregory Wilcox