Whirling and swirling seem to describe this September-November season of the year. Leaves whirl in autumn and snowflakes will swirl in many places by the feast of Christ the King. Swirling and whirling create both dizziness and exhilaration. Liturgical ministers begin this season's work at a dizzying pace with the recruitment of musicians and other liturgical ministers, the start of the school year, and with ideas and repertoire for choirs and assemblies. After the period of swirling and whirling, one thing is sure: leaves, snowflakes, and all of us will be in a different place from where we started. As exhilarating as the ride may be, do we want to arrive at the end of the liturgical year wherever the wind blows, or with some control over where we arrive? This issue of Today's Liturgy hopes to assist you as you skillfully maneuver the air-currents to your destination.Aside from my ignorance of the apparent fact that an inanimate periodical could "hope" for anything at all, the most startling thing about the good editor's opening paragraph is the apt metaphor of "whirling and swirling," which, she acknowledges, create "both dizziness and exhilaration." The dizziness of AmChurch liturgy I have witnessed not only in televised videos of liturgical dancers whirling like dervishes in some of Cardinal Mahony's anti-liturgies, or in some European liturgies, like this open air liturgy in France where the concelebrating priests danced awkwardly behind the altar. I have also experienced the dizziness first hand, in settings that ranged from those reminiscent of episodes of "America's God Talent" to those reminiscent of an aging group from a Minnesota Lutheran Usher's Convention at the Marriott Waikiki Hotel in Honolulu, Hawaii, who were trying to dance the Hula. Those who were engaged in "full and active participation" in these activities apparently experienced the exhilaration; although, for whatever reason, this particular sensation has usually escaped me -- except, perhaps, for one occasion at a bongo Mass where the calypso rhythms provoked in me a paroxysm of singular apoplectic "enthusiasm."
"Liturgical ministers begin the season's work at a dizzying pace," says Rendler-McQueeney, "with the recruitment of musicians and other liturgical ministers" (emphasis added). Liturgical ministers recruiting liturgical ministers? The expression has always thrown me for a loop. Perhaps it's my Protestant background, but I still have to fight the knee-jerk reaction of thinking that "minister" in a Catholic context is supposed to mean "priest." Silly me. I should have known from my previous experience in a Lutheran university that a title can be multiplied indefinitely, as it was under one administration with such a wonderful proliferation of "Vice Presidents" that it soon looked like our administration would outnumber our faculty. We had a "Vice President of Academic Affairs," "Vice President of Financial Administration," "Vice President of Admissions," "Vice President of Plant Management," "Vice President of Alumni Relations," "Vice President of Student Affairs" .... Eventually those of us in the Department of Philosophy and Religion decided to get in on the action and posted signs over our doors such as "Vice President of Departmental Administration" (the secretary), "Vice President of Platonic Affairs" (the Greek Philosophy specialist), "Vice President of Semiotic Relations" (specialist in Biblical languages), "Vice President of Postmodern Development" (our resident Derridian deconstructionist), and so on.
Forget six or more years of seminary. You can become a minister in far less time. I'm sure you have seen the names of various lay folk in parishes, directors of religious education and other administrative types (sometimes unhabited nuns or ex-nuns) listed in church bulletins right alongside the pastor's, with exciting job descriptions such as "Liturgical Ministry," "Catechetical Ministry," "Music Ministry," "Youth Ministry," "Pastoral Ministry," "Pastoral Ministry of Spirituality," or "Director of Pastoral Ministry" in parentheses after their names. (Directors of pastors? Sounds almost like another euphemism for bishop.) Who needs seminary? You can become a "Minister" in no time at all by simply volunteering to serve as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion. Pretty soon we'll have so many ministers there won't be anybody left in the congregation; but then everybody will be happy, because everybody will be a minister. "Ecumenism Ministry"? "Hospitality Ministry"? "Communications Ministry"? "Blood Drive Ministry"? "Food Service Ministry"? "Lenten Yoga Ministry"? "Director of Collaborative Ministries"? The sky's the limit. Woo-hoo! Let's all minister!
8 comments:
As the Chairman of ABE Ministries (Against Basically Everything) I object to the proliferation of "ministries" in AmChurch.
Whether it is the "Greeting Ministry," which glad hands me as I walk into Church, or the "Parking Lot Ministry," which, to be fair, regularly maintains an admirable comity of cooperation and coordination with the "Traffic Cone Placement Ministry," the whole program of what Abraham Lincoln called, "Aping the Protestants"* stinks like the bottom of a monkey's cage.
* As I was writing, I was moved to create the "Making up quotes Ministry."
How about "Inclusive Language Ministry," "Community Spirit Ministry," "Women's Empowerment Ministry," "Race Relations Ministry," "GLBT Ministry," "Singles Ministry," "Dating Ministry," "Homiletic Coaching Ministry," or "Doctrinal Sensitivity Ministry"?
Back in pre-V2 days, we Catholics didn't call our priests ministers except in the sense of "presider" or "officiator." So, the silliness is in the proliferation of the word is in the elevation of functions, a la the old "sanitation engineer" for "trash collector."
The general meaning of 'minister' as the designated officer in charge of certain affairs is ridiculous when the functional charge is less than impressive. "Minister of Parking," meaning "Parking Lot Attendant" or even "Parking Director" is silliness. To call the job by its name is not to say that it is not a service. To call every service a ministry, however, is to devalue a perfectly good English word.
I suppose that the intent of this proliferation of ministries is to emphasize the "priesthood of the laity," but the effect, in a way, is to exhalt the laity and diminish the priesthood.
Elaborate titles are not what most folks use in the real world. For example, are you short on people to take up the collection at Mass? No one thinks to say, "We need another Minister of Hospitality"; rather, you say "We need another usher".
Likewise, no one ever says "Where is the Presbyter?" No, everyone says "Where's the priest?"
While I believe simple, clear language should be our goal, we shouldn't be shy about playing the lingo game, too. Anyone want to join the Traditional Liturgy Ministry?
Alex B., you wrote:
"Elaborate titles are not what most folks use in the real world."
True. Nobody thinks to say "We need another Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion." Rather, someone says: "We need another Eucharistic Minister."
But isn't that just the problem, in one way? At least with THOSE "ministers," the term sticks, adding to the subtle confusion in people's minds, when they see Fr. Bob surrounded by a gaggle of "Eucharistic Ministers" distributing Holy Communion just like him!
I do like your suggestion of playing the other side of the same language game, though!
You're punishing me with laughter, my ribs hurt. This post is so true and so unfortunate. I have 18 years of being a catechist, DRE, CYM, and volunteer for several organized efforts to feed the hungry and support the grieving, (pastoral care at the hospital) including years of seminary training earning a master degree in theology and many hours of philosophy, yet I'm unable to secure a "ministry" position in the Church. I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, it's a better idea for the priest of a parish to have a volunteer or someone that doesn't require much pay to fill the "ministry" position thereby affording that lovely retreat cottage and jet ski for the all important mission of relaxation.
Wouldn't the "Spirit of Vatican 2" be the ideal department to establish the "Ministry of Silly Walks?"
Just asking. Please apologize to John Cleese for me.
Did someone mention "enthusiasm"?
I have known Elaine Rendler for many years, though not very well, and not lately. She is difficult to explain. She laments that when couples plan their weddings, their experience with liturgical music is limited to Carey Landry's "Hi God." It would never occur to her that she and her ilk are the reason for the deprivation. On the other hand, she is a consummate musician and director, and has the capability (which she has employed) to take a bunch of raw amateurs and turn them into a very capable parish choir. I can only say this because I've seen it happen, not on the basis of her published works, which often devolve into the oft-imagined preconciliar/postconciliar dichotomy that has long become rather dated.
Another thing:
"True. Nobody thinks to say 'We need another Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion.' Rather, someone says: 'We need another Eucharistic Minister.'"
Most of the time, it's just easier to say one than the other, as opposed to some modernist conspiracy at work. "Extraordinary minister" works for me; at least it's correct.
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