Volte-Face?
We are all, I guess, products of our time.
My serious involvement with the Church of England started in the 1970s; I began to discern a vocation in the latter half of that decade, and commenced training for ordination in the early 1980s.
It was a time of liturgical upheaval. In most parishes, the pseudo Prayer Book Language of 'Series One and Two' was giving way to the contemporary language of 'Series Three' - a process that culminated in the publication of the 'Alternative Services Book' of 1980. Meanwhile, across the Tiber, Roman Catholics were adjusting to Mass in the vernacular and a much simplified liturgy. Following the clear spirit of Vatican II, if not its precise letter, Catholic clergy were pulling their high altars forward or abandoning them altogether for new Nave Altars where Mass was celebrated Versus Populum ('facing the people' or 'Westward-facing') rather than 'Ad Orientem' ('Eastward facing, with the priest's back to the people).
As one might expect, in the Church of England, responses to the new liturgical movement were at best mixed and at worst thoroughly confused. In many parishes, the high altar was pulled away from the East Wall (often, as a result, perching somewhat perilously on the edge of a top sanctuary step) so that the celebrant (now given the somewhat controversial title of 'President') could stand behind the altar to celebrate the Holy Mysteries. In the meantime more adventurous parishes set up a new (and often portable) altar nearer to the people, often at the front of the nave or just inside the Chancel.
Many churches faced a genuine dilemma in how best to implement these changes. My home Church of St Wilfrid, Harrogate - a Cathedral-like Victorian Gothic edifice - had clearly been designed with the medieval-style Ad Orientem celebration in mind, and this is exactly what I encountered when I started worshipping there. Within a couple of years, the priest was standing behind the high altar in a way that made no sense at-all within that architectural context and which somehow undermined the visual beauty of the building. Such is its design - with a major entrance strangely sited at the front North East side - that it's difficult to envisage how a nave altar could be created. The problem has clearly still not been resolved, as when I last visited an ordinary wooden table had been set up just a few feet in front of the high altar - as much a liturgical nonsense as an aesthetic abhorration.
During my time at Theological College, within the student body there was no doubt that being a 'proper' Catholic meant celebrating Versus Populum. I remember once suggesting in a discussion that the liturgical fashion might once again change in the future and that we may see a return to Ad Orientem. One student in particular laughed hysterically and said, 'That will never, ever happen." He is now a Roman Catholic Priest who prefers to celebrate Mass in its 'Extraordinary Form' i.e. the Tridentine Rite,with the Celebrant firmly facing Ad Orientem! I also recall a very 'Romanist' Vicar who boasted that his nave altar was set in several feet of concrete so that no misguided successor could ever try to reverse his church re-ordering. Were that priest still in post, I suspect he would have hired a pneumatic drill shortly after the election of Pope Benedict.
When Benedict's liturgical conservatism triggered what was known somewhat bizarrely as 'The Reform of the Reform', those who longed for the old ways saw an opportunity to literally perform a volte-face at the altar. As a result, sometimes, in some places, Ad Orientem is back in fashion.
Perhaps it is because I am a product of my time that I remain fairly ambivalent about these things and I'm pretty certain that the Almighty is not remotely concerned.
I have only rarely celebrated a sung Mass Ad Orientem, and my instinct is always to face the people as I have done for over thirty years. However, my current churches have eastward-facing altars in all of their side chapels, so Low Masses celebrated there are always Ad Orientem. I must admit that in this context, celebrating Mass feels somehow more contemplative, and there is a sense not so much of having my back to the people, but rather to be facing the throne of Christ with them and making the offering on their behalf. It works, I think, because I know the congregation is only a few feet behind me and we're not separated by a great gulf.
On the other hand, celebrating Versus Populum at a High Altar many yards away from the front row of worshippers, looking effectively down a tunnel lined with (often empty) choir stalls really makes a nonsense of the idea that celebrating Versus Populum gives the people a sense of involvement and stresses that the Eucharistic sacrifice is an action of the whole gathered community.
I suspect that it is best not to take a 'one size fits all' approach to this, but rather to adopt the 'horses for courses' approach and assess each building and each liturgical event to establish what kind of celebration would work best.
Some churches, like the famous All Saints Margaret Street and St Alban's Holborn, cry out for an Ad Orientem liturgy. Anything else would look at best incongruous and at worst ridiculous. Other churches, however, lend themselves to a more intimate celebration where priest and people can gather - quite literally - around the altar.
A modern Concelebration - as encouraged by Vatican II- where all priests present stand behind and around the altar with the Celebrant to jointly consecrate the elements - can have a powerful visual impact and emphasise that there is one priesthood, whereas a group of Concelebrating clergy huddled over an eastward-facing altar looks rather absurd and has little or no teaching value.
I am indeed a product of my time!
Life was simpler when we all knew that ideally we should be celebrating Mass facing our congregation. But it was also simpler because all the words that the priest needed were in one book - something that the Church of England has never been able to bring itself to do since 1980; it was simpler because the liturgy was in genuinely contemporary language and we hadn't tried to make it more poetic, resulting in the 'clunky' liturgies of Common Worship and the new Roman Mass; it was simpler because we had the common ICET texts.
But no-one ever said that life should be simple; and worship can never be simple because it is a wonderful and awesome mystery. I suspect that expressing that mystery appropriately should always be a challenge.
My serious involvement with the Church of England started in the 1970s; I began to discern a vocation in the latter half of that decade, and commenced training for ordination in the early 1980s.
It was a time of liturgical upheaval. In most parishes, the pseudo Prayer Book Language of 'Series One and Two' was giving way to the contemporary language of 'Series Three' - a process that culminated in the publication of the 'Alternative Services Book' of 1980. Meanwhile, across the Tiber, Roman Catholics were adjusting to Mass in the vernacular and a much simplified liturgy. Following the clear spirit of Vatican II, if not its precise letter, Catholic clergy were pulling their high altars forward or abandoning them altogether for new Nave Altars where Mass was celebrated Versus Populum ('facing the people' or 'Westward-facing') rather than 'Ad Orientem' ('Eastward facing, with the priest's back to the people).
As one might expect, in the Church of England, responses to the new liturgical movement were at best mixed and at worst thoroughly confused. In many parishes, the high altar was pulled away from the East Wall (often, as a result, perching somewhat perilously on the edge of a top sanctuary step) so that the celebrant (now given the somewhat controversial title of 'President') could stand behind the altar to celebrate the Holy Mysteries. In the meantime more adventurous parishes set up a new (and often portable) altar nearer to the people, often at the front of the nave or just inside the Chancel.
Many churches faced a genuine dilemma in how best to implement these changes. My home Church of St Wilfrid, Harrogate - a Cathedral-like Victorian Gothic edifice - had clearly been designed with the medieval-style Ad Orientem celebration in mind, and this is exactly what I encountered when I started worshipping there. Within a couple of years, the priest was standing behind the high altar in a way that made no sense at-all within that architectural context and which somehow undermined the visual beauty of the building. Such is its design - with a major entrance strangely sited at the front North East side - that it's difficult to envisage how a nave altar could be created. The problem has clearly still not been resolved, as when I last visited an ordinary wooden table had been set up just a few feet in front of the high altar - as much a liturgical nonsense as an aesthetic abhorration.
During my time at Theological College, within the student body there was no doubt that being a 'proper' Catholic meant celebrating Versus Populum. I remember once suggesting in a discussion that the liturgical fashion might once again change in the future and that we may see a return to Ad Orientem. One student in particular laughed hysterically and said, 'That will never, ever happen." He is now a Roman Catholic Priest who prefers to celebrate Mass in its 'Extraordinary Form' i.e. the Tridentine Rite,with the Celebrant firmly facing Ad Orientem! I also recall a very 'Romanist' Vicar who boasted that his nave altar was set in several feet of concrete so that no misguided successor could ever try to reverse his church re-ordering. Were that priest still in post, I suspect he would have hired a pneumatic drill shortly after the election of Pope Benedict. When Benedict's liturgical conservatism triggered what was known somewhat bizarrely as 'The Reform of the Reform', those who longed for the old ways saw an opportunity to literally perform a volte-face at the altar. As a result, sometimes, in some places, Ad Orientem is back in fashion.
Perhaps it is because I am a product of my time that I remain fairly ambivalent about these things and I'm pretty certain that the Almighty is not remotely concerned.
I have only rarely celebrated a sung Mass Ad Orientem, and my instinct is always to face the people as I have done for over thirty years. However, my current churches have eastward-facing altars in all of their side chapels, so Low Masses celebrated there are always Ad Orientem. I must admit that in this context, celebrating Mass feels somehow more contemplative, and there is a sense not so much of having my back to the people, but rather to be facing the throne of Christ with them and making the offering on their behalf. It works, I think, because I know the congregation is only a few feet behind me and we're not separated by a great gulf.
On the other hand, celebrating Versus Populum at a High Altar many yards away from the front row of worshippers, looking effectively down a tunnel lined with (often empty) choir stalls really makes a nonsense of the idea that celebrating Versus Populum gives the people a sense of involvement and stresses that the Eucharistic sacrifice is an action of the whole gathered community.
I suspect that it is best not to take a 'one size fits all' approach to this, but rather to adopt the 'horses for courses' approach and assess each building and each liturgical event to establish what kind of celebration would work best.
Some churches, like the famous All Saints Margaret Street and St Alban's Holborn, cry out for an Ad Orientem liturgy. Anything else would look at best incongruous and at worst ridiculous. Other churches, however, lend themselves to a more intimate celebration where priest and people can gather - quite literally - around the altar.A modern Concelebration - as encouraged by Vatican II- where all priests present stand behind and around the altar with the Celebrant to jointly consecrate the elements - can have a powerful visual impact and emphasise that there is one priesthood, whereas a group of Concelebrating clergy huddled over an eastward-facing altar looks rather absurd and has little or no teaching value.
I am indeed a product of my time!
Life was simpler when we all knew that ideally we should be celebrating Mass facing our congregation. But it was also simpler because all the words that the priest needed were in one book - something that the Church of England has never been able to bring itself to do since 1980; it was simpler because the liturgy was in genuinely contemporary language and we hadn't tried to make it more poetic, resulting in the 'clunky' liturgies of Common Worship and the new Roman Mass; it was simpler because we had the common ICET texts.
But no-one ever said that life should be simple; and worship can never be simple because it is a wonderful and awesome mystery. I suspect that expressing that mystery appropriately should always be a challenge.
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