The Cosmic Song of 'Laudato Si' - Theological Insights and Liturgical Implications
by Maeve Louise Heaney
I read my favourite books slowly – to savour the language and insights on offer, which have the power to halt me in my tracks and lead me to a space within which changes can happen. Laudato Si, the encyclical of Pope Francis On Care for our Common Home, is one such writing. For full effect, it needs to be read attentively, word for word, so that what is being proposed can affect and effect a change in our understanding and awareness. A reflection on the liturgical implications of the document invites us to this kind of approach: one that addresses the roots and overall vision that will enable us to interiorise, assimilate and apply its teaching in a fruitful and systematic way. Real change is never born of simply asking ‘how’ and ‘what to do’ but rather of finding out ‘why’ and ‘where are we going’ so that our steps are both firm and creative. The document recognises this, moving from an analysis of the situation, through its theological underpinnings to finish with a chapter on ‘Ecological Education and Spirituality’; this chapter calls us precisely to look at both the underlying ethos that marks our lifestyle and to face the educational challenge that addressing this implies (LS 209). In this short piece, I will focus particularly on aspects and key notions of that chapter.
One phrase stands out for me as a sort of ‘guiding principle’ in this task, helpful in understanding how important it is to build with vision and clear purpose: we have too many means and only a few insubstantial ends (LS 203). It invites us to reflect upon the substance of things, the essence of our spirituality, the ultimate aim of our educational efforts. We can at times get caught up in doing well what we do. Laudato Si invites us to take a step back and rethink our premises and purpose. In this sense, I believe the greatest challenge of Laudato Si is that of re-thinking or re-imagining how we perceive our place in this world in which we live, move and have our being (Acts 17:28). Our efforts at education will be inadequate and ineffectual unless we strive to promote a new way of thinking about human beings, life, society and our relationship with nature (LS 215). Perhaps therein lies its primary implication for liturgical theology and practice, for the liturgy is one of the fundamental spaces in which Catholic imagination is in fact formed. But I hope a brief reflection on some key concepts of the document can feed into that quest – in particular those of awareness, ecological conversion and beauty. I propose that each one of these terms can help us refresh and widen how the sacramental principle which is so core to our Catholic worldview can be expressed and lived.
Awareness
The word appears fourteen times in the document, nine of which are in the chapter on education and spirituality. The chapter begins by identifying our lack of awareness of our common origin, of our mutual belonging, and of a future to be shared with everyone (LS 202). It fleshes this out by calling for both a growth in self-awareness, currently hijacked by individualism and compulsive consumerism (LS 203), and a universal awareness of the need for a new relationship with our world, coloured by reverence for life and the aim of a just and sustainable growth (LS 207). This call to a social or ecological awareness is pitted against the self-oriented and utilitarian nature of our interaction with the world (LS 219).
From a theological perspective, recent years have seen the term ‘awareness’ emerge in reflections on faith and how we understand the process of our coming to believe in Christ, typically known as the analisis fidei. Most notably perhaps Italian theologian Pierangelo Sequeri’s theology of faith develops a study of the believing consciousness or awareness. The term he uses, conciencia credente, is not best translated by ‘conscience’ but by the broader terms ‘consciousness’ or ‘awareness’, as they speak of our interaction with and perception of reality as a whole. Sequeri invites us to pay more attention to aspects of human perception that play a huge part in our coming to faith but that have been given less attention up to now than they merit; we might mention trust, affectivity and embodiment, to name just a few.
Much has been written on faith since Vatican II’s spectacular document on Revelation Dei Verbum (whose 50th anniversary we mark this year), in which paragraph five alone summarised, albeit eloquently, our response to our self-revealing God. Benedict XVI’s Verbum Domini (2010) and Francis’ first encyclical Lumen Fidei (2013) have both fuelled and enriched theology’s quest to understand what happens in our coming to know, believe and love God in Christ. To this, Laudato Si adds the call to become more aware, more conscious of our humanity as embedded in and connected with the created world and all that inhabits it, in a spirit of gratitude for all life as gift and call to communion (LS 220). There is more to be said of this awareness but let us first look at the notion of conversion.
The word appears fourteen times in the document, nine of which are in the chapter on education and spirituality. The chapter begins by identifying our lack of awareness of our common origin, of our mutual belonging, and of a future to be shared with everyone (LS 202). It fleshes this out by calling for both a growth in self-awareness, currently hijacked by individualism and compulsive consumerism (LS 203), and a universal awareness of the need for a new relationship with our world, coloured by reverence for life and the aim of a just and sustainable growth (LS 207). This call to a social or ecological awareness is pitted against the self-oriented and utilitarian nature of our interaction with the world (LS 219).
From a theological perspective, recent years have seen the term ‘awareness’ emerge in reflections on faith and how we understand the process of our coming to believe in Christ, typically known as the analisis fidei. Most notably perhaps Italian theologian Pierangelo Sequeri’s theology of faith develops a study of the believing consciousness or awareness. The term he uses, conciencia credente, is not best translated by ‘conscience’ but by the broader terms ‘consciousness’ or ‘awareness’, as they speak of our interaction with and perception of reality as a whole. Sequeri invites us to pay more attention to aspects of human perception that play a huge part in our coming to faith but that have been given less attention up to now than they merit; we might mention trust, affectivity and embodiment, to name just a few.
Much has been written on faith since Vatican II’s spectacular document on Revelation Dei Verbum (whose 50th anniversary we mark this year), in which paragraph five alone summarised, albeit eloquently, our response to our self-revealing God. Benedict XVI’s Verbum Domini (2010) and Francis’ first encyclical Lumen Fidei (2013) have both fuelled and enriched theology’s quest to understand what happens in our coming to know, believe and love God in Christ. To this, Laudato Si adds the call to become more aware, more conscious of our humanity as embedded in and connected with the created world and all that inhabits it, in a spirit of gratitude for all life as gift and call to communion (LS 220). There is more to be said of this awareness but let us first look at the notion of conversion.
Ecological Conversion
Human beings, while capable of the worst, are also capable of rising above themselves, choosing again what is good, and making a new start (LS 205). The whole chapter resonates with this hopeful exhortation to change, explicit in the conviction that human beings are capable of assessing and correcting past attitudes with new habits that have the potential to be effective: we must not think that these efforts are not going to change the world (LS 212). Specifically Section 3 is dedicated to what Francis calls ‘ecological conversion’ (LS 216-221). The significance of this term can best be understood if we situate it in relation to current theological developments on ‘conversion’ which seek to broaden and clarify the various dimensions involved in metanoia or turning away from that which is not conducive to Christian faith and turning towards God and all that is. A comprehensive exploration of recent studies on the theme exceeds the limits of this article. However, as awareness grows of the complex and multilayered nature of our relationship to God and the world, the ground-breaking thought of twentieth century Canadian Jesuit Bernard Lonergan SJ will help us to understand at least some of the directions it is taking. For Lonergan, the notion of conversion lies at the foundations of good theological thought. In fact he identified the ongoing conversion of the theologian as the only solid ground that could guarantee the transmission of doctrine to the future generations in the changing times we live in. |
This conversion however is not (simply) that of a deeper prayer-life or spiritual fervour – one can be honest and prayerful but still not correct in one’s assessment of things – but multifaceted. He identified three notions of conversion: religious, moral and intellectual. Briefly:
* Religious conversion refers to one’s surrender to and living in God’s love, poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:5).
* Moral conversion addresses the dynamic of freedom and ownership of one’s life and decisions; by contrast, an inauthentic life drifts without the realisation that who we are is, at least in part, dependent on our own free options.
* Intellectual conversion challenges how we understand and know reality as it is, though we recognise that western philosophy’s heritage has left us with diverse and conflicting theories of human knowing which affect how we interact with Christian truth.
Scholars working with Lonergan – for example, Robert Doran SJ who has written extensively on the theme – alerted him to the need to address the dimension of the healing of our psyche, the undertow of our sensibility, emotions and memory, which has come to be known as psychic conversion. (This is perhaps an unfortunate name for common usage, but this should not leave us questioning its centrality to human living; our woundedness at levels beneath our conscious perception of reality is very much part of how we interact with the world, those around us, ourselves and even God). Other authors have unfolded or developed these three or four, adding aspects such as aesthetic and affective conversion.
The encyclical brings another notion to our attention: ecological conversion. The concept is not unknown to theological thought or papal statements: John Paul II introduced it in a 2001 catechesis and there has been some reflection on the theme by theologians interested in both the fields of conversion and creation. But an encyclical dedicated to the concept brings it into the heart of official Church teaching, placing it at a radically different level for both Catholic thought and liturgical practice. And I think it is fair to say that the call to ecological conversion is at the heart of Laudato Si – even while we seek to understand what it is and its implications. It may be premature to seek a definition, but Pope Francis says that ecological conversion occurs when the effects of our encounter with Jesus Christ become evident in our relationship with the world around us. Living our vocation to be protectors of God’s handiwork is essential to a life of virtue; it is not an optional or a secondary aspect of our Christian experience. It is both personal and communitarian (LS 217-218).
* Religious conversion refers to one’s surrender to and living in God’s love, poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:5).
* Moral conversion addresses the dynamic of freedom and ownership of one’s life and decisions; by contrast, an inauthentic life drifts without the realisation that who we are is, at least in part, dependent on our own free options.
* Intellectual conversion challenges how we understand and know reality as it is, though we recognise that western philosophy’s heritage has left us with diverse and conflicting theories of human knowing which affect how we interact with Christian truth.
Scholars working with Lonergan – for example, Robert Doran SJ who has written extensively on the theme – alerted him to the need to address the dimension of the healing of our psyche, the undertow of our sensibility, emotions and memory, which has come to be known as psychic conversion. (This is perhaps an unfortunate name for common usage, but this should not leave us questioning its centrality to human living; our woundedness at levels beneath our conscious perception of reality is very much part of how we interact with the world, those around us, ourselves and even God). Other authors have unfolded or developed these three or four, adding aspects such as aesthetic and affective conversion.
The encyclical brings another notion to our attention: ecological conversion. The concept is not unknown to theological thought or papal statements: John Paul II introduced it in a 2001 catechesis and there has been some reflection on the theme by theologians interested in both the fields of conversion and creation. But an encyclical dedicated to the concept brings it into the heart of official Church teaching, placing it at a radically different level for both Catholic thought and liturgical practice. And I think it is fair to say that the call to ecological conversion is at the heart of Laudato Si – even while we seek to understand what it is and its implications. It may be premature to seek a definition, but Pope Francis says that ecological conversion occurs when the effects of our encounter with Jesus Christ become evident in our relationship with the world around us. Living our vocation to be protectors of God’s handiwork is essential to a life of virtue; it is not an optional or a secondary aspect of our Christian experience. It is both personal and communitarian (LS 217-218).
This growing awakening to the call for a more nuanced and complete development of conversion and what fullness of living means for a Christian can help us understand what is at stake in Pope Francis’ call for personal, local and universal ecological conversion that is reflected in our personal options and habits of life, our systems of government… and our liturgies. It is not something we have already mastered and simply need to remember to include when we examine our conscience. Nor is it an add-on that is extrinsic and therefore unnecessary or a less important dimension of Christian ethics. Francis says as much when he speaks of ‘committed and prayerful Christians’ who ridicule environmental concerns as less important than other more pragmatic needs, or who remain simply passive (LS 218). It is, on the contrary, intrinsic to a full Christian understanding of reality, and therefore not only urgent but essential. It is not new. And this is important. Revelation in Christ is complete and fully given – the Word has become flesh manifesting the fullness of God’s glory (cf. Jn 1:14) – but we grow in our understanding of that revelation and even the deposit of our faith is developed.
So, is there novelty or a deepening of our comprehension of revelation in the document? Australian theologian and expert in creation theology, Denis Edwards, says there is. In a recent debate on the theme at ACU in North Sydney (www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-4Jz6hImz0), he explained how it presents a new theology of the natural world:
* It presents other creatures as having meaning and value in themselves, not only in their use for humanity, but because they are unique, loved by God and have a future in God.
* It describes God’s creatures as God’s word to us, each one of them a revelation, a book of God, a word of love.
* It presents human beings as part of nature and forming with them and in Christ a sublime communion in God.
While these are not entirely new thoughts (for we easily recognise their scriptural and Christological resonance), the call is to integrate them into our own spirituality.
So, is there novelty or a deepening of our comprehension of revelation in the document? Australian theologian and expert in creation theology, Denis Edwards, says there is. In a recent debate on the theme at ACU in North Sydney (www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-4Jz6hImz0), he explained how it presents a new theology of the natural world:
* It presents other creatures as having meaning and value in themselves, not only in their use for humanity, but because they are unique, loved by God and have a future in God.
* It describes God’s creatures as God’s word to us, each one of them a revelation, a book of God, a word of love.
* It presents human beings as part of nature and forming with them and in Christ a sublime communion in God.
While these are not entirely new thoughts (for we easily recognise their scriptural and Christological resonance), the call is to integrate them into our own spirituality.
Beauty
Another related theme that runs right through the document is beauty. The recovery in recent theological reflections of God as Beauty and the beautiful as an entry point to faith are clearly present. Beauty is mentioned twenty-seven times in Laudato Si. In some way Pope Francis presents beauty as an antidote to the habits that hijack our awareness and prevent us living in that space of freedom that would allow ecological conversion to take place. ‘The relationship between a good aesthetic education and the maintenance of a healthy environment cannot be overlooked’ (John Paul II). By learning to see and appreciate beauty, we learn to reject self-interested pragmatism (LS 215).
It is this theology that grounds the sacramental and liturgical aspects that the pope invites us to reflect upon towards the chapter’s end (LS 233-237), and one way of exploring it is to sketch a double path in our quest to apply its insights.
Firstly, there is an invitation to stretch our Catholic imagination’s sacramental principle to reach and transform the entirety of our interaction with the world. It has been noted that the historical effects of a dualistic worldview has left Christians living badly in this world and not in any other! (Oliver Davies). We find God in church, but at times struggle to do so in the comings and goings of everyday life. Laudato Si gives us clues and keys as to why that may be and how to address it. The risen and ascended Christ we celebrate in our liturgies is present and indwelling, not only in the people we serve but in the very world we inhabit and whose fruits we bring to the liturgy. The Eucharist is a celebration, not only of the universal Church in time and space, but of the cosmos. It is an act of cosmic love: ‘Yes, cosmic!’ (LS 236). The call is to free our lives of the clutter that impedes our perceiving, seeing not only the beauty of the world we inhabit but also the very presence of the risen and ascended Christ therein. I have expressed this elsewhere in musical form: in Christ, the world is alive with moving grace (https://soundcloud.com/maevelouise/dancing-in-our-minds). The centrality of beauty in the document suggests we open ourselves to all the creativity we can draw on and gives us grounds to think that art and music especially have a role to play.
Secondly (although the last should be first: lex orandi, lex credendi) we must reflect on how to nurture this awareness in and through our liturgical practice. I am still in the process of coming to know the richness of Australia and its cultures. Although my normal discipline is systematic theology rather than liturgy, these few suggestions about Australian liturgy seem to align with the reflections already offered.
* Could we meaningfully recover past celebrations of Spring and harvest-time for the good of all our congregations, their interaction and mutual enrichment? Australia has reinstated Ember Days at the beginning of Autumn and Spring. Should we add those of Summer and Winter to highlight the cycle of creation?
* As the Ordo points out, There is a strong impulse on these days towards the justice of God’s kingdom, with attention given to those peoples who are devastated by famine and exploitation. Ember days rightly focus on the environment, climate change, and our stewardship of the world’s resources. Penance reminds us that sustainable use of our resources will cost us in our attitudes and lifestyle. * Further, how could we integrate reflections and teachings on ecological conversion into our Advent and Lenten practices, our teaching on fasting and abstinence, and our weekly penitential services? * Can we make greater use of the Missal’s Masses and Prayers for Various Needs and Occasions? A range of texts is given for the sanctification of human labour, for seed time and harvest, for the progress of peoples, for rain and fine weather, for times of famine, earthquake, storms, bushfires, drought, floods and cyclone. * Given the central role Laudato Si assigns to beauty, could we embark upon a reflection on the links between beauty and liturgy. How do we form our ministers and leaders? What spaces do we use for our celebrations? Where does art and beauty fit in the preparation of our liturgies? Does our music aid our ecological awareness? |
Dr Maeve Louise Heaney VDMF combined her expertise as theologian and musician in a doctoral thesis on music in theology.
She is Director of the Xavier Centre for Theological Formation at Australian Catholic University.
This article appeared in the September 2015 edition of Liturgy News.
She is Director of the Xavier Centre for Theological Formation at Australian Catholic University.
This article appeared in the September 2015 edition of Liturgy News.