A list from NCR of theologians whose work has been questioned undergone scrutiny, and some of whom have been declared orthodox (see the entry for Karl Rahner).
Catholic Church: February 2005 Archives
I am not enamored of change for the sake of change. But change can be a good and healthy response when it deals merely with discipline and practice and not doctrine.
However, in the past several months we've undergone two significant changes to the liturgy as the diocese finally got in gear and implemented the GIRM. As part of this, it was determined, but not particularly well announced that we would all stand after the Agnus Dei until the last person had received communion. (This was the instruction prior to November.)
In November a new instruction was released which was not announced or implemented in my parish until about three weeks ago. This one restored the kneeling during communion, but had an odd assortment of kneelings and risings between the Agnus Dei and communion. (If I understood the instruction properly we are to stand during the Angus Dei, kneel during the "Lord I am not worthy", stand between the end of the "Lord I am not worthy" and kneel or sit after reception.) Once again the instruction was communicated in the bulletin but not "taught" so as a result in and around communion we have people doing everything imaginable, standing, kneeling, sitting, riverdance--you name it.
Now, I have no idea why we received two sets of instructions so close together. But it little matters. If we are to do them, we must know and understand them. And if we are to celebrate as one body, everyone should be doing the same thing at the same time. This is where I plead with liturgists and with those who are in charge of instructing the people--please do so. Don't rely on the bulletin--evidence indicates that fewer than half the people read it, or at least half do not understand it. Perhaps in the weeks following the instruction it would not be remiss to ask the priest or the deacon or even the cantor (if they are readily visible) to use hand signals to indicate whether or not we should be standing. (There might still be confusion of kneeling/sitting, but at least we'd have the worst of the confusion done away with.)
I also know that there are limits as to what can be done by a liturgist without being disruptive. But what could be more disruptive than having your neighbor lean over and say "You're supposed to be standing," when you know for a fact that it said you were supposed to be kneeling?
If change must occur--an in a living liturgy it CAN and will occur, then it should be introduced and gently guided in a way that all will know what is expected. As I said, I have no real problem with change, but a severe problem with not knowing what the change is or what I'm supposed to be doing--worship and adoration are difficult when you're busy thinking about standing/sitting/kneeling and trying to decide who actually got it right.
I wrote a piece yesterday in which I tried to get at this point--quite awkwardly. I did not publish it (as you may see). However, I stumbled on this during my perambulations through St. Blogs and it says perfectly what I had in mind. Thank you Mr. Blosser.
A quotation from Cardnial Ratzinger
Real advances in Christology, therefore, can never come merely as a result of the theology of the schools, and that includes the modern theology as we find it in critical exegesis, in the history of doctrine and in an anthropology oriented toward the human sciences, etc. All this is important, as important as schools are. But it is insufficient. It must be complemented by the theology of the saints, which is theology from experience. All real progress in theological understanding has its origin in the eye of love and in its faculty of beholding.
Once again, your indulgence I beg and direct your eyes to the apologies of the previous post. Ditto.
Hymn in Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament
WITH all the powres my poor Heart hath
Of humble love & loyall Faith,
Thus lowe (my hidden life!) I bow to thee
Whom too much love hath bow'd more low for me.
Down down, proud sense! Discourses dy!
Keep close, my soul's inquiring ey!
Nor touch nor tast must look for more
But each sitt still in his own Dore.
Your ports are all superfluous here,
Save That which lets in faith, the eare.
Faith is my skill. Faith can beleive
As fast as love new lawes can give.
Faith is my force. Faith strength affords
To keep pace with those powrfull words.
And words more sure, more sweet, then they,
Love could not think, truth could not say.
O let thy wretch find that releife
Thou didst afford the faithfull theife.
Plead for me, love! Alleage & show
That faith has farther, here, to goe,
And lesse to lean on. Because than
Though hidd as GOD, wounds writt thee man.
Thomas might touch; None but might see
At least the suffring side of thee;
And that too was thy self which thee did cover,
But here ev'n That 's hid too which hides the other.
Sweet, consider then, that I
Though allow'd nor hand nor eye
To reach at thy lov'd Face; nor can
Tast thee GOD, or touch thee MAN,
Both yet beleive; And wittnesse thee
My LORD too & my GOD, as lowd as He.
Help, lord, my Faith, my Hope increase;
And fill my portion in thy peace.
Give love for life; nor let my dayes
Grow, but in new powres to thy name & praise.
O dear memoriall of that Death
Which lives still, & allowes us breath!
Rich, Royall food! Bountyfull BREAD!
Whose use denyes us to the dead;
Whose vitall gust alone can give
The same leave both to eat & live;
Live ever Bread of loves, & be
My life, my soul, my surer selfe to mee.
O soft self-wounding Pelican!
Whose brest weepes Balm for wounded man.
Ah this way bend thy benign floud
To'a bleeding Heart that gaspes for blood:
That blood, whose least drops soveraign be
To wash my worlds of sins from me.
Come love! Come LORD! & that long day
For which I languish, come away;
When this dry soul those eyes shall see,
And drink the unseal'd sourse of thee,
When Glory's sun faith's shades shall chase,
And for thy veil give me thy FACE.
A M E N.
As this is the year of the Eucharist, whatever feeble strains we can add to praise, we ought to do so. And so I offer this--not my own, but too easily lost and not again found.