On the Cultural Mission of the Church

For Christians, the commemoration of an anniversary is an occasion to renew one’s commitment. And this task obliges not only a select few (the nobility) but all who belong to a tradition. This is especially true for the Church, who has a mission that extends forward to all of time. The Church cannot rest on the laurels of the past. Looking back on the great spiritual achievements of our ancestors lifts us up, strengthens us, and gives us courage and self⁠-⁠confidence. Younger churches and spiritual communities at times try to appropriate these achievements, but the cathedrals made of stone and spirit—in whose shadows modern individuals with their cars move about like ants—do they not belong to us? And also later, the masters of the Sistine Chapel and the Colonnades, the Magic Flute and the Ninth Symphony—do they not belong to us? Instead of anxiously asking, as some Christians do, whether there is art that is inspired by Christianity and the Church, one can ask confidently whether any other genuine art exists. Perhaps a clear look at the present time provides sufficient proof of this thesis, albeit in negative form. All of this is admirable, but what does it mean for today’s Church other than the most serious task, so serious that the challenge of corresponding to the greatness of the past almost crushes us. It is clear that the mere demand for culture, or the planning of new programs, or the mere discussion of the problem as we find in the press, which cannot do more, is in no way sufficient. The Church today must guard especially against this sickness by which one is easily infected: the idolatry of numbers, slogans, and propaganda. With this ideology the little remaining culture that we have is undermined and poisoned. It is indeed part of the essence of great cultural works that the human community lives from them; they provide spiritual nourishment for the mass of humanity. However, this nourishing relationship is increasingly taking on the character of an unhealthy parasitism. A thousand commentators and doctoral researchers sit like ticks on the living body of a single poet. Every silent thought that could become fruitful in silence is drowned out by the din of excessive analysis. In such a cacophony one can hardly recognize the human sound. (I inevitably leave a Church service in which a radio montage replaces the voice of the priest at the altar; but I do not want to suggest that this “backwardness” is exemplary.) Seen from this point of view, the primary task of the Church is to create islands of calm, peace, reflection, contemplation, and prayer. In this way, people whose heads are turned by the carousel of modern life can find their way back to themselves and to God. This is the most fundamental prerequisite for something like culture to exist: passively, in that culture can be understood and interiorized; actively, in that achievements worthy of this title can be produced.

The Church’s culture begins with liturgy. Without any aestheticism, the Church’s public worship must not only address the moral and spiritual needs of our contemporaries but also be a source and norm for them. This is especially true for that part of the Mass that is most subject to human design: the homily. There is as much talk today about the crisis and need for good homilies as there is about the crisis of genuine culture. The homily is an integral part of the highest cultural task of the Church. It is important that those who are responsible are aware of this. Here eternal truth, God’s own Word, takes on the form and body of today’s words and concepts. Incarnation does not mean adaptation or selection (as if today’s man is no longer able to endure the full depth of the Word of God!). Neither does it mean moralization and trivialization. It means the opening up of all the terrible glory and majesty, all the fruitfulness for our life today, and all the intoxicating beauty of the divine Word. As in all times of the Church, culture in the Christian sense can grow only from this experience of the divine Word. What a responsibility! The responsibility is so weighty that it is important for the Christian faithful to know that they share the burden of ensuring that this first source of Christian culture flows as purely and fruitfully as possible.

The second point, which immediately follows, is the Church’s concern for the decisive bearers of such culture among the people of the present time. By “Church” is meant members of the hierarchy in contact with the lay faithful who are jointly responsible for Christian culture. The first concern here, which requires care and planning, is the careful selection, formation, promotion, and utilization of competent and faithful theologians. By this is meant scholars who possess theological knowledge in its true depth and breadth, in the fullness of the tradition and in openness to the future. As long as there is a lack of such individuals—and it is certainly no secret that we do not have enough of them—there is a lack of an indispensable element, a foundation stone, a lighthouse. Furthermore, it is also not enough that our Catholic schools send up to a thousand high school graduates to the universities every year (less would be more). These future bearers of spiritual culture should also be properly pursued, supported, and educated. Today’s means and methods of student pastoral care are inadequate to this task. (My former colleagues will be the last to contradict me here.) Those who show promise due to their talent or inclination should receive additional attention in the form of scholarships, paid exchange programs both at home and abroad, and internships. (This is already done by the Katholischer Studentenverein, but it could be extended more generally to the Catholic student body.) For those who are studying a particular discipline, it should be possible to gather a group together (without removal from the parish setting) to explore in a systematic way the implications of the Catholic worldview for their studies and work, with attention given to relevant publications. All this requires a staff of competent priests (academic pastoral care in the specific sense cannot be improvised on the fly) as well as interested and devoted lay people, who alone have the relevant competence in various disciplines and professions. Their professional commitment could help put an end to the improvisation of the clergy, which is difficult to avoid today, in the various sciences and professions. It is possible that these urgent needs can only be satisfied by educated lay men and women who can devote themselves to the demands of Christian culture more exclusively than is possible for married people. This is the form of life envisioned by the apostolic constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia on the contemporary form of religious life: on the basis of the evangelical counsels one is available for God’s kingdom while placed in the midst of the world. A short book, Der Laie und der Ordensstand (Johannes Verlag, 1948), Published in English: Hans Urs von Balthasar, The Laity and the Life of the Counsels: The Church’s Mission in the World (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993).—Trans. tried to show the untapped potential that could bear fruit through the realization of this newly developed possibility, especially as regards Christian culture. Church authorities have strongly encouraged this form of life. Other countries are far ahead here; we have hardly taken the first steps. It is good to see how many tasks lie ahead, but it is also demanding.

Culture cannot be formed simply by isolated individuals swimming against the current. It requires the understanding of a leading intellectual class as well as thoughtful and far⁠-⁠sighted planning—think of the House of Medici or the court of Weimar or the French circles of the Grand Siècle. And planning is by no means “organization” in the bad sense. Everything depends on personalities finding each other and also making themselves available for the task of forming a crystallized center, or indeed of being such a center themselves in order to be able to form the searching and fluctuating spiritual life into clarity and strength. Above all, young people are not inspired to make commitments by programs on paper but only by human role models. And so this is the issue: the problem of Christian culture in contemporary Switzerland is essentially a matter of there being convincing and luminous Christian figures in today’s Switzerland.

Since I began with the homily, I do not want to close without remembering contemplation as the source for all cultural action. The significance of our deeds flows from silence and contemplation. Hence our worried look at the state of our contemplative or semi⁠-⁠contemplative monasteries. Is the height of pure contemplation intact there? Do they have time—all time—for God? Or are they already affected by the nervous haste of the immediate will to work, the idolatry of numbers? Consider a monk who, in addition to contemplation and the full daily office, assumes a position at a school and perhaps other outside work to help the monastery; or a nun who belongs to an order with perpetual adoration day and night and also runs a grammar school. How are they not divided? The image of a hasty monastery community does not act as a calm light on a hill. The Catholic faithful, however, need this light; they can demand this even as they are coresponsible for this light. Let us create places of silence, prayer, and study; places where you can feel God’s breath and where people who live in the lowlands can purify their lungs. There is no better way to celebrate anniversaries of Christian culture than by joyfully submitting to new, pressing tasks.