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I do not have time to say anything at all about Professor Dustin's account of theory and of craft, with much of which I agree; I can speak only of what he says about liturgy. And as to what he says about liturgy I cannot, to my regret, directly engage his view; all I can do is present an alternative. For me, the fundamental model for thinking about liturgy is not participatory contemplation of some pattern in the kosmos, nor participatory contemplation of some work of art displaying such a pattern; the fundamental model is that of engagement with a person. In the liturgy we, the people of God, are engaged with that creating, redeeming, and consummating person who is God—or more precisely, with the triune God who is three persons in one substance. My guess is that, at bottom, my reason for thinking of liturgy differently from how Professor Dustin thinks of it is that I think of God differently. The classical Greeks whom Professor Dustin cites all thought of the divine as impersonal. When persons engage each other, they do not contemplate each other; though they look at each other, when that is possible, they do not contemplate each other. Contemplation of persons is for fashion and beauty shows, for performance dance, and the like. When persons engage each other, they talk to each other. Dialogue is the mark of the engagement of persons who are in full possession of their personhood. So I think of liturgy as being, in good measure, not contemplation but dialogue. The people address God in confession, praise, thanksgiving, and intercession; and God addresses the people in welcome, benediction, absolution, Scripture, and sermon. I said, "in good measure." The sacraments, as I think of them, are not dialogue; though set in the context of dialogue, they are not themselves dialogue. In the mutual participation by God and God's people in the sacraments, God effects what God promises. In short, throughout the liturgy God's presence is not that of some object to be contemplated, but that of one who acts—sacramental acts, and acts of discourse. I need scarcely mention that this way of thinking about liturgy also has its roots in antiquity. It is a different antiquity, however: the antiquity of the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures rather than the antiquity of the classical Greeks. In the classical Greek philosophers the primary metaphors for our relation to the divine were visual. The reason is obvious: the divine had no capacity either for hearing or speaking. In Scripture, the primary metaphors are verbal and auditory. We speak to God and God speaks to us. When God speaks, we listen. We do not look, we do not contemplate; we listen. The biblical writers were extremely chary of speaking of seeing and contemplating God; one cannot behold God's face and live, they said. What we contemplate is not God but God's works and God's Torah. As for God, we listen. And to listen is to do; hearing is doing. Liturgy is indeed practice; on this point I am in full agreement with Professor Dustin. But as I see it, liturgy is not our practice of contemplating God but God's and our joint practice of engaging each other in dialogue and sacramental action. |
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