Models of Liturgical Theology

In our pluralistic world, it is often necessary to consider several perspectives to gain a complete picture of a concept or object. Theology has been similarly affected by this multicultural, multidimensional approach. As this article points out, we benefit from studying many different models as we attempt to understand the theology of liturgy.

We have moved beyond a theological world where we could point to a theological giant such as Barth or Tillich as the way to view our relationship with God, as Protestants tended to do. Nor is there any such thing as the Catholic theology as many Roman Catholic theologians one time presupposed. This became clear when Avery Dulles wrote his foundational book, Models of the Church (1974), soon to be followed by his Models of Revelation. Sally McFague picked up the same approach in her Models of God (1987). It has been no different for liturgical theology.

Since liturgical theology is part of the larger discipline of theology, it is going to take its approach from the reigning theological systems. Some liturgical theologies have chosen to stay within the parameters of a more classical kind of theology such as Thomistic or Barthian, but most, when they reach the level of systematic theology, tend to be rather eclectic. It seems only logical that an approach within the field of theology that has proven to be helpful should be employed to place liturgical theology in conversation with its theological neighbors.

Theologians learned from scientists that the use of models can remove many of the obstacles that are present when one attempts to make connections between two or more closely defined systems. To employ models of theology is to take seriously the fact that we cannot adequately describe reality; we can only interpret it. We do not provide photographs of God, sin, and grace. But we can find analogies that will allow us to speak about these spiritual realities. Models allow the conversation to take place.

Models are like windows. They are a way of viewing some event, in this case, the liturgical celebration. We know that if we have only one window in our house and the only world we see is the one viewed through the single window, that such a view can only be a distortion. But it is many windows and the many views through those windows which make it possible for us to sense and know more deeply the world outside of us. If we limit ourselves to one window, usually the one which supports our bias, we have severely restricted our grasp of life.

Rather, we need several windows, several models, just as we need several self-images if we are going to live humanly. Those people who live under the imperialism of only one view of themselves, whether it be man or woman, teacher or student, mother or father, rich or poor, endanger their very growth as human beings. Much of the stunted growth that is part of our liturgical experience and that of assemblies all over the world is due to a single, dominating self-image of the liturgy. By expanding our windows on the liturgy through the use of models, we can enrich our liturgical experiences and insights.

The Institutional Model

What one sees when one peers through this window is the visible rite with all of its structure, procedure, and format. Here the emphasis is on the ritual itself in terms of what can be perceived through the human senses. This does not mean that this model sees liturgy only as empty ritualism, but the stress is on the proper ordering of worship. Rubrics would still be important in this approach and the liturgical assembly resembles more that of a pyramid. In this model one knows who is in charge, who is conducting the worship and how that person is differentiated from the congregation.

This stress on structure and procedure is not to be construed as negative since all good ritual needs structure as well as that liminal quality which takes people beyond and below those structures. The model, however, does imply that the way that the liturgical assembly is organized is the way that our relationship with God is structured. When this model dominates, it produces a very distorted view of Christianity.

At liturgy the worshiper is the privileged recipient of grace. One of the purposes of worship is to assist the congregant to continue on the way to God along certain established lines so that there is some security about the movement to salvation. In this approach one knows who is on that path and who is not. Looking at the assembly is like looking at the blueprints of a building. Everything is clearly delineated.

Through this window we see liturgy more as something legislated by the church rather than a community at celebration. There is a strong emphasis on doing the liturgy in a proper way and often the criteria for that takes precedence over the experience of the worshipers. The liturgy is to be received as something unchanging, a gift from the tradition handed down to be entered into on its own terms. Most readers will recognize this model as one which has dominated many of our assemblies over the years.

The Mystery Model

This is the Easter model because of all the models, the mystery one celebrates the paschal mystery most explicitly. This model developed out of the theology of one of the first liturgical theologians of the twentieth century, Odo Casel, O.S.B., who maintained that in the liturgical celebration we do more than merely commemorate Christ or produce his real presence. Rather it is Christ and his saving mysteries, that is, Christ in his activity, which is made present. The mobilizing image here is that of the church in an act of remembering. Through its thanksgiving in its liturgical actions the Christian community effectively recalls the whole Christ so that event is actually present in the liturgical celebration itself. It is a model which attempts to explain how the cross is made contemporary in a way which is more than mere recall. The liturgical notion of anamnesis is the way in which this model still lives on in liturgical theology today. For Casel, the liturgy and its relationship to Christ remains always a mystery, but this mystery is an event which can be reactualized in the present liturgical assembly.

What this model does is to introduce a sense of realism into the liturgical rite. The liturgical year is not some kind of biography of the life of Christ, but in each feast some aspect of the mystery is made contemporaneous in a unique way. In the liturgy salvation is made visible because the liturgy itself is visible. And while the saving activity of Christ is transcendent and eternal, yet the worship of the church exists in time and so Christ continues to act in time.

The Sacramental Model

This is the model of the liturgical community above all else. The Pauline language of the body of Christ finds its best home in this model. As in the mystery model salvation seeks perceptibility, but now the emphasis is on the assembly as the locus of God’s salvific action. This is the more mainline model that has been dominant in much of liturgical theology after the Second Vatican Council. It presupposes that the church is a sacrament and that the liturgy of the church is the way that the church expresses this sacramentality.

This model does not stress the individual sacraments but rather it places the emphasis on the incarnational character of the Christian community and its worship. Whereas the institutional model stressed the visible structures of church and liturgy and the mystery model highlighted the reality of the salvation found in those structures, this model points to the hidden level of grace beneath the structures which brings this liturgical event together to become the body of Christ. This is probably the most communal of all the models. Here one speaks of the communion of grace that exists among the members of the congregation. Here reference is made to the power of the Holy Spirit who brings together all worshipers to become the people of God. The restoration of the catechumenate in the church is an example of a pastoral implication of the power of this model of liturgy.

The Proclamation Model

While this model has been operative throughout the history of the liturgy, it had become the dominant Protestant model after the Reformation. Here the Word of God has prime place. In our relationship with God and so in liturgy, God proclaims and we respond. Jesus Christ is God’s perfect proclamation and our perfect response. It is the Word of God which creates the church and makes present the saving event of Christ.

The pattern of the liturgy is proclamation and response because that is the pattern of God coming into our lives. And here proclamation means far more than the proclaiming of a text. The full kerygmatic power of the gospel comes into play because this proclamation creates a world. It calls people to decision. One may refuse to make a decision in terms of the word, but the call to decision is always there.

In the liturgy the word and response structure makes of liturgy a dialogic event, one which places great value on communication. Dialogue is characteristic of human interchange. For such interchange to be meaningful the parties involved must be humanly present to one another. This human presence takes place through language. Jesus Christ is the language of God. Communicative human language is not the mere transmitting of information. It sets one up for an encounter, a deepening of relationships, and a challenge to one’s presuppositions. And all this communication takes place within the rhythmic pattern of the liturgy which is where the language of God becomes concrete.

The Process Model

This model was developed out of Alfred North Whitehead’s process philosophy which has been very important in American theology. This way of thinking stresses relationality and creativity or novelty. There is a sense in which God and the world are one, or better, are at one. This is not to identify God and the world but rather to say that the only world we have is the world of our God and the only God we have is the one of our world. Of all the models the process one emphasizes the immanence of God. God is working in our world luring it ever more toward Godself.

Another key category of process thought is becoming. The basis of reality is that which changes, not that which remains the same. That is why novelty and creativity are such values in this system. The implications for liturgical theology is that liturgy is an event which is ever becoming, always on the way, constantly redefining itself in terms of the world around it, the environment in which its own life takes place. For this reason, a main image of the liturgy which emerges from this model is that of the worshiping community on the way, the assembly on pilgrimage.

When one gazes through this process window one sees a liturgical celebration which is very much connected with the larger world. It incorporates into its ritualization the contemporary values of society such as growth and development. Process liturgies try to take seriously the language of the liturgical texts and songs, namely, that God is deeply affected by what we do and truly cares for us. God does not remain immutably aloof, but both God and Christ change and grow with the worshipers themselves. Change is built into the very structure of the rites, and the prayer of the symbolizing community is directed toward the future.

The Therapeutic Model

If the sacramental model is based on the role of the incarnation in our lives, the therapeutic model intensifies this incarnate character. This model, sometimes called the humanizing model, begins with the presupposition that human growth is synonymous with growth in union with God. Thus, this theological view pays particular attention to the stories of celebrating Christians. Rather than using explicitly religious images and categories to speak of the divine reality in human life, therapeutic liturgy employs the language of ordinary human experience to articulate the mystery that is at the heart of all liturgy. God is not alien to the humanizing process.

Liturgy’s task here is one of clarification. God is always up to something in our world. Salvation is always going on. But often this is not noticed. It remains hidden. But liturgical assemblies can know what is going on because their liturgies unveil for them these deeper processes. And the community does this primarily through its story telling. In their songs and prayers and taking, blessing, breaking, and sharing action of the Eucharist they retell the great story of the Passover of Jesus Christ. This provides the members of the assembly the opportunity to place their smaller, often deficient, stories into the larger incorporating story of Jesus Christ.

The Liberation Model

Many of the themes that one would find in the various forms of contemporary liberation theology will be echoed in this model. It is certainly about experiencing the kingdom of God through the breaking down of barriers that cause human division and inequality. It calls for the reform of sinful structures, and challenges the worshipers to join with the poor and oppressed in realistic ways to promote greater justice. Looking through this window one sees a liturgy that does justice.

It is in terms of the model that the worship of the church is seen as a prophetic event. But this is more than mere intellectual persuasion. The liturgy is the place where one’s affections and emotions are to be transformed so that imaginative ways can be found to bring about this restructuring of society and the conversion of the members of the congregation. The kingdom of justice reaches into the most pedestrian dimensions of our lives and just worship pays attention to hospitality in the assembly, inclusive language in the liturgical texts, equality of women with men in the ministerial roles, and team effort in liturgical planning.

Liturgy is not, however, like some recipe book for the world’s problems. Rather, it is like a dress rehearsal for the kingdom. When the liberation model is present in a celebration it becomes, albeit for only an hour on Sunday, the place where we play at being at home in the kingdom. That is, for this short period of time, the usual divisions in life and the barriers to full humanity disappear and we act as if the kingdom has truly arrived. These obstacles will all reappear at the church door when we leave the space of worship, but we will have experienced briefly what that kingdom of God is like.

In summary, liturgical models are theological models. They are useful instruments to discern the nature of any ritual celebration. But they are not more than that. Liturgy itself remains a mystery.

The apostle Paul put it best, “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now [we] know in part; then [we] shall know fully, even as [we are] fully known” (1 Cor. 13:12).

Defining the Task of a Theology of Worship

The following article underscores how the theology of worship has been neglected by many Christians and challenges believers to find new hope and power in the vision of Christus Victor.

The topic of worship is not only timely, it is urgent. There is a widespread sense among Christians in North America that all is not well with the church, that we need a new sense of direction, a new dynamism.

In particular, we need something that will capture the imagination and enthusiasm of young adults. The institutional loyalty that many older Christians grew up with is no longer evident among young people. Many of them are walking away from the church, not necessarily because they are hostile to religion, not because they object to the teachings or standards of the church, but because they just don’t sense any particular value in participating in the Christian community. They see it as an option for those who want it, but certainly not a necessity for their own lives. There is a growing sense that we need a revitalization of church life, something to convey the excitement that being a Christian involves. What we need is a new understanding of worship.

Worship and Ecclesiology

Our need for a theology of worship is part of a much larger need for a doctrine of the church.

Ecclesiology, as the doctrine is sometimes called, is the most underdeveloped aspect of Protestant thought. Protestant evangelicals have had a lot to say about the doctrine of human beings and the person and work of Christ, as well as the doctrine of revelation, which has received considerable attention through numerous discussions about biblical inspiration. So, when you look through the standard list of Christian doctrines to see what Protestants have been interested in, the work done in the area of ecclesiology is remarkably thin.

Even as part of a doctrine of the church, a full-fledged theology of worship itself is no small undertaking. It would have to include a theology of preaching, a theology of prayer, and sacramental theology as well.

Besides a theology of worship, with all it entails, a comprehensive doctrine of the church must also include a theology of ministry. The controversy over women’s ordination shows how much thinking we still have to do about this important topic. And perhaps most important of all, we need a theology of the Spirit. According to the New Testament, the church is the community of the Spirit, life in Christ is life in the Spirit, and worship is impossible without the presence of the Spirit.

Several factors seem to mitigate a Protestant evangelical theology of worship. One might be our preoccupation with the mission of the church. This tends to make our times together occasions for planning, for organization, for motivational speeches, but not for devotional or celebration. Similarly, if we are preoccupied with the teachings of the church, then our times together will become occasions for indoctrination.

Of course, the church has a mission and the church has a message, and both deserve all the attention we can give them. But there is more to the Christian life than these things. In worship, the church—the community of the Spirit—brings to vivid expression its entire experience of salvation in Jesus Christ, with adoration, devotion, and celebration.

Worship and Theology

A second point concerns the connection between worship and theology. We need to recognize both as important activities in the Christian community. If worship is the heart’s love for God, theology is the mind’s love for God; both are responses to God.

In addition, there is a reciprocal relation between theology and worship. Our worship affects our theology, and our theology affects our worship. On the one hand, theology has its roots in worship. It rises out of our experience with God. As one thinker puts it, “Theology has its basis in the experience of prayer.” (Heinrich Ott, God [Richmond: John Knox, 1974], 95.) So, theology is one of the forms worship takes.

There is an ancient tradition of what we might call “worshipful reflection” or perhaps “theological worship.” I am referring, of course, to the venerable idea of faith seeking understanding. For Anselm, the great medieval theologian, adoration found expression in careful thinking. “I do not seek to understand that I may believe,” he said, “but I believe in order to understand.… So Lord, who dost give understanding to faith, give me … to understand that thou art as we believe.” (Saint Anselm: Basic Writings, trans. S. N. Deane [LaSalle, Ill.: Open Court, 1966], 7.)

The relation moves in the other direction, too: theology can have an important effect on worship. What we come to believe about God and his relation to us cannot fail to affect the way we respond. Unfortunately, there are ways of looking at God that make it impossible for people to worship. And people who have different views of God will have different worship experiences. Those who are preoccupied with what God expects of them and those who are preoccupied with what God has done for them will have worship experiences that are radically different. Good theology and good worship go hand in hand. You can’t ever have one without the other.

Worship and Our Particular Theologies

It is one thing to assert that our worship should reflect our theology, but just how our theology should shape our worship experience is not easy to say. A series of sermons on distinctive denominational themes, for example, is no guarantee that the worship experience of the congregation will be somehow distinct.

In response, some may feel that particular denominations should not strive to be unique in their worship. Worship, they say, is one place in church life where we can reach beyond denominational boundaries and affirm solidarity with other branches in the body of Christ. But to achieve any significant theology of worship, however, we need to do more than emphasize particular denominational doctrines. We need to achieve a fundamental transformation in our perspective on the Christian life. We need something like a revolution, a paradigm shift, a new model or metaphor for what it means to be a Christian. If theology as such is truly significant, it will have more than ideas and practices to offer the world. It will have a powerful vision of what Christianity means. And this will have an inevitable effect on the central experience of worship.

Let me conclude with one possibility for theology-to-worship transformation. This is the familiar theme of Christus Victor, the idea that the entire universe is engulfed in a conflict whose central acts unfold in the history of God’s people. I first sensed the potential of Christus Victor for worship several years ago when I heard a lecture on the work of Christ as a dramatic victory over the great powers that oppose and enslave human lives—the powers of sin, death, and the devil. It occurred to me that this was a viewpoint the whole church could embrace with enthusiasm.

Consider the exciting possibilities such a vision opens up—the motifs of liberation, celebration, joy, and peace, for example. Think of the tension and drama that such a vision of human history conveys. Here is an idea with real power to transform worship. To a great extent, we have left that comprehensive, overarching theme on the theological shelf. The time has come to bring it into the arena of concrete life where personal commitments and values are shaped. The time has come to infuse our worship with the exciting perspectives the Christus Victor message contains.

In the Christus Victor theme lies an ecclesiology—the church as the people of Christ’s victory over the powers; a theology to free the mind to worship as it reflects on the implication of such a vision; a theology for worship that affirms worship as a celebration of the historic dethronement of the powers; an eschatological vision of the world freed from the powers; and a present awareness of God’s power at work in worship to free the worshiper and ultimately all creation from the domain of the powers. In this task lies the promise of a theology of worship.