For many people today, the Second Vatican
Council remains a controversial event. Particularly for those who identify as “traditionalist,”
it was a regrettable moment in our history in which rituals were simplified, ambiguity
was introduced, traditions were abandoned, and mysticism was traded for the ordinary
and accessible. Four points that are undeniably correct. There is no question that the pre-Vatican
II Church was far more transcendent and resplendent than what we have now, and if you yearn for
what once was, no one will blame you. At the same time, this is not to say that
Vatican II was a failure, for it never set out to make the Church more transcendent and
resplendent. Its focus, seen clearly throughout each of
its main documents, was to recover the essential nature of the baptized, and to mobilize the
laity into missionary disciples. What does this mean, and how was it successful? This is Catholicism in Focus. [introduction reel] There is no doubt that Vatican II was a council
of reform. After decades of research and rediscovery
in the fields of scripture, patristics, liturgy, and ecumenism, it became clear that an essential
aspect of Catholic life needed to be emphasized for life in the modern world: active discipleship
among the baptized. This was not about being modern or more like
protestants—the spirit that pierced through the council was a desire to call and prepare
the laity for a life of mission. While the Council never explicitly states
this as its goal, a look to the four major Constitutions reveals a common, unique thread. Beginning first with Sacrosanctum Concilium,
The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, the council affirms the centrality of the Eucharistic
celebration in Christian life: “the liturgy is the summit toward which
the activity of the Church is directed; at the same time it is the font from which all
her power flows.” (SC 10) There can be no mission without prayer, no
life of the Church without liturgy. Gathering to offer sacrifice and praise, receiving
the gifts of Word and Sacrament—this is the starting and ending point of all Christian
life. While no one would have denied the beauty
of the liturgy at the time of the council, its efficacy in forming disciples was definitely
in question. Because the liturgy was celebrated in Latin,
consisting of mostly private prayers with the priest’s back to the people, it was
common for people to pray their own devotions, completely uninvolved with what the priest
was doing. This denied a critical aspect of the Church’s
worship, for as first Peter teaches us, all the baptized constitute ‘a chosen race,
a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a redeemed people (1 Pet. 2:9; cf. 2:4-5). The baptized should not be mere observers
of Christian worship, they have an active role to play within it—offering their own
sacrifices and sanctifying the world. And how are they going to do this if they
are essentially excluded from common worship? Thus, one of the primary instructions of the
document was for “fully conscious, and active participation.” The liturgy was to be updated so that the
laity could more fundamentally be involved and nurtured by the sacrifice: the homily
was not to be omitted, the lectionary needed to be expanded, the prayer of the faithful
and sign of peace were to be restored, the vernacular allowed, lay ministers trained
and involved in the work of the liturgy, and the regular reception of the Eucharist at
every mass encouraged, even with the possibility of receiving from the cup. Despite the vast and often “creative”
changes to the liturgy that occurred after the council, what the bishops actually prescribed
was all geared towards encouraging the laity in this reclaimed mission. The liturgy was to be fashioned in such a
way that the faithful could no longer attend liturgy without paying attention. The faithful fulfilled their vocation by offering
their own sacrifices while participating in the one sacrifice on the altar. Did this mean diminishing some complexity
and richness for the sake of general involvement? Unfortunately, yes. But it also ushered in an entire generation
of Christians taking seriously their responsibility to participate in worship and sanctify the
world. That’s a win. A year later, the Church built upon this renewed
identity of the faithful in Lumen Gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church. As a royal priesthood—the document asserted—the
primary identity of the Church, what constituted the People of God, was not one’s status
in the hierarchy, but baptism. Although there does exist a hierarchical structure
to the Church that enjoys special responsibilities, the clergy are not to be seen as above or
against the laity. Quite the opposite. The council asserts that the the clergy come
from among the faithful “for the nurturing and constant growth of the People of God.” (LG 18) It is not a matter of the clergy AND
the people of God, but rather that the clergy are AMONG the people of God, chosen not as
lords but as servants of the flock. This equality in baptismal identity led the
bishops to declare what might stand as the most significant claim of the whole council,
that each an every christian has a call to be holy: “All the faithful of Christ of
whatever rank or status, are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the
perfection of charity…They must follow in His footsteps and conform themselves to His
image seeking the will of the Father in all things. They must devote themselves with all their
being to the glory of God and the service of their neighbor.” (40) What is said about the priesthood is hardly
revolutionary in this document, but what is said about the laity is groundbreaking: they
have a vocation entirely their own, namely, to order and bring light to the secular world
in which they inhabit. The role of the lay person is not to serve
the needs of their priest, they have their own mission, their own identity, as priests,
prophets, and kings to their families and the outside world. Does this create some ambiguity in the leadership
structure? You bet! But look what it does for the life of the
Church in the world. Wonderful. Now, how do we know where to take up this
mission? How can we grow in holiness and have anything
to offer the world? The council focuses its attention to the Word
of God in Dei Verbum, the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation. Although often synonymous with sacred scripture,
the Council is keen to remind the Church that the Word of God does not refer to scripture
or tradition alone, but to the revelation of God’s very self in the person of Jesus
Christ. Through our encounter with him, we come to
understand the truth of what is contained in writing and tradition. For this reason, the council advocates that
“Easy access to Sacred Scripture should be provided for all the Christian faithful.”(22)
It is not the work only of the clergy to study and proclaim, but of all the faithful. The Council teaches that it is the “common
effort” of the bishops and faithful to hold to, practice, and profess the heritage of
the faith. (10) Gone are the days when only the priest was
allowed to study scripture. Gone are the days when the faithful had to
go to Father to ask their theological questions. Now, it is up to them to engage in their own
study, to teach others themselves. Does this blur the lines of ordained minister
and lay person? A bit. But think about how many more people encountered
Christ once they were encouraged to do so on their own. Amazing. Ultimately, this leads to the primary mission
of the Church, the commission left by Jesus before his ascension: to evangelize the world. Gaudium et spes, the Pastoral Constitution
on the Church in the Modern World, orients this mission. This document marks a significant shift in
the approach of the Church. Having lived through the Protestant Reformation,
the Enlightenment, and various cultural revolutions, the Church had chosen for many centuries to
board up its windows in hope of safety. Now, renewal was being called for. The world was suffering, and the Church, the
sacrament of salvation, could remain hidden no longer. Beginning from the standpoint of a dignity
of the human person, that we are the only creatures “that God wills for its own sake,”
the Church issues forth to announce a Christian anthropological outlook and to shape the cultural,
economic, and social life of the world. What’s significant about this document,
and profoundly important to the vocation of the laity, is that that when the council speaks
of the “Church” and what she does, it rarely speaks of the hierarchical, institutional
Church. It speaks of the life of the laity. The first thing it mentions in “the nobility
of marriage and the family.” This reality is obviously not separate from
the life of the clergy, but it is by no means primary to it either: this is a gift that
lay people provide to the world. The same can be seen in the document’s encouragement
that the Church be involved in shaping the culture, the economic and social life, and
the political community, and that it promote peace between nations. None of these things necessarily EXCLUDE bishops,
priests, and deacons, but they also don’t assume that the clergy will be doing these
tasks. What the council calls for is a Christian
witness in the secular world, for lay people to approach their ordinary lives as missionaries. The Church, “a visible association and a
spiritual community, goes forward together with humanity and experiences the same earthly
lot which the world does. She serves as a leaven and as a kind of soul
for human society as it is to be renewed in Christ and transformed into God's family.” (40) Did this remove some of the appeal of being
a priest or nun, allowing any ordinary person to accomplish great works for the Church? Maybe. But are we really that bothered that ordinary
people are accomplishing great works for the Church? For me, that’s what it ultimately comes
down to: the fruit being produced today. There is no doubt that Vatican II caused a
rupture in some aspects of Church life. It is truly tragic to compare some of the
customs we have now to the traditions we had before. In terms of beauty and transcendence, there’s
no debate. But is that what matters to us the most? Our customs and traditions? Or is it the number of Catholics worldwide—which
has doubled since the council; the number of active catechists, liturgists, and evangelizers—which
has skyrocketed; the level of social outreach—we’re the largest charitable organization in the
world; or simply the vibrancy of faith—unprecedented in African and Asia today. Vatican II set out to call and train missionary
disciples among the laity, and there is no doubt in my mind that it has succeeded.
