Budapest is the Escape Room capital of the world. Escape rooms are popular, especially in big cities. For nearly 20 years they have been a source of entertainment and delight, as well as an effective team-building tool. The premise of this type of immersion game is this: a half-dozen people are locked in a “game room” which is designed around a theme, such as a homicide, an art heist, or a bank robbery. Gradually, through the discovery of clues and the resolving of riddles, the group finds the “key” that unlocks the door. While the immediate goal of an escape room round is for the group to “beat the clock,” the real value is found both in the interaction with other members of the team, and the delight one feels after each new discovery. While no analogy is ever perfect, some elements of the escape room example can be helpful in our reflection on Pope Francis’s teaching about the role of mystery and wonder in the liturgy. When one first enters an escape room, everything is new, unfamiliar, even mysterious.
“Mystere” was the expression which a Parisian professor would systematically use to describe the functioning of French bureaucracy. The implication was that “no one knows, nor will anyone ever know” how bureaucracies work—and not just the French ones! This conclusion follows: bureaucracy is a necessary evil that one shouldn’t waste time trying to understand. In the world of religion, we should consider it an unfortunate, yet all too common, phenomenon that the rich meaning of the word “mystery” is reduced to “something we couldn’t possibly understand.” What is worse is that this colloquial meaning does not serve those trying to appreciate more deeply the beautiful richness of Catholic worship.
In the world of religion, we should consider it an unfortunate, yet all too common, phenomenon that the rich meaning of the word “mystery” is reduced to “something we couldn’t possibly understand.”
A more ample understanding of “mystery” (mysterium) is one of the objectives of Pope Francis’s 2022 apostolic letter Desiderio Desideravi, on the liturgical formation of the faithful. A corollary concept, that of wonder or astonishment (stupor), is considered in tandem. Words are multivalent, they carry with them a network of meaning beyond translation that cannot be easily captured by the first denotation found in the dictionary.
We focus on paragraphs 24-26 of Desiderio Desideravi. The Holy Father’s thought in this section can be summarized in this way, albeit in reverse order: Wonder is essential to worship (26). We marvel at the salvific plan which God has made perceptible in the Passion of Christ (25). If we are unable to marvel at the perceptible expression of the Paschal Mystery, we may very well become immune to the grace that is available in the celebration of the sacraments (24).
Wonder—Essence of Worship
Pope Francis unapologetically takes his inspiration from Romano Guardini, who poses the penetrating question: are modern people capable of “committing a liturgical act?” The response is a resounding “Yes!” We have the capacity, but we may not always understand how to do it. The Holy Father’s conviction that wonder (stupor) is related to worship provides an entree into engagement with the liturgy. It is important to note that stupor (wonder, astonishment) is a reaction to something experienced. This idea is essential because it highlights our response to the initiative taken by God; worship is fundamentally a response to the Source of our benefits. It also reinforces the sense of something “beyond” ourselves, bigger than ourselves, especially in monotheistic religions.
The association of worship with wonder is inscribed in the etymology of the Greek term for worship, sebein.1 Names such as Sebastian and Eusebius come from this word. Eusebius means “he worships well,” while Sebastian means “one who is revered.” In the New Testament sebein is usually translated as “worship.” And yet this term has a more ancient signification. It suggests wonder, awe, astonishment at what one sees or encounters; try to imagine the expression on the face of an astonished person: that is the essence of sebein. It happens like a flash of lightning (fulgura) as a word-less admiration arising from the deepest dwelling of a person: a soundless “Wow!”
Do we have the capacity for wonder? Absolutely. Whether we have the will to cultivate this capacity is a different question.
The word musterion (μυστήριον) is closely related to this idea. It is important to reflect on the origin of the word because if the simplistic yet typical answer is that mystery means the divine cannot be understood, we might leave it there and simply give up. But the point of calling it mystery is not to solve a puzzle, but to react (“Awesome!”) to something that is beyond our comprehension. Its etymology suggests something richer, something more compelling. Scholars consider the root of mystery to be “muo,” which literally means “to shut the mouth.”2 The English cognate “mute” is derived from the same root. In other words, mystery is used to characterize our encounter with God as him by whom we are dumbfounded, rendered speechless. It takes our breath away. No single word can ever be found to express the inexplicable.
This does not mean that we should not try to put words to the experience; the nature of the encounter, as well as the nature of human beings, compels us to share what we have experienced. Faith seeks understanding. Fides quaerens intellectum.3 What it indicates is that we must not confuse or conflate the Divine encounter with speaking about the Divine encounter. Experience and an explanation are radically different phenomena.
By the time Eli was three years old, his parents had already been singing Morning Prayer for years. One morning as they were finishing Lauds, Eli approached his father, singing:
He may not have been able to define what “Lauds” is, but he knew the seriousness of his parents’ prayer and he intuitively learned that the best way to ask is in song. Perhaps someday he will discover that he was singing in Mode 8. That realization will ignite curiosity and provoke more questions. Do we have the capacity? Absolutely. Whether we have the will to cultivate this capacity is a different question.
Astonishment at the Salvific Plan
There is, then, intellectual work to be engaged in: before, during, and after a liturgical celebration. Catechesis, proclamation, mystagogy, can each foster a greater awareness, a deeper appreciation, a fuller engagement. There is a double marvel in the mystery of our redemption that must be acknowledged. The first marvel is that God should love us so much as to send his Son (his only one) to free us from our enslavement to sin. The second source of astonishment is that the chosen way for our liberation should be the dramatic Passion of Christ. Thus, genuine prayer is grounded not only in the fact that God creates and sustains us, but also in the profound Christian message that in our fallen state God sent his Son to redeem us: “While we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). The biblical narratives recited at liturgical worship rehearse these themes. Theologians grappling with the concepts continually renew them, providing insight for each new generation. And yet, the Holy Father draws attention to the aspect that cannot be forced by the Bible, the theologian, or even the pastor. Pope Francis insists on the individual responsibility to embrace the salvific message and to allow oneself to respond in wonder and awe to the magnificent work of God.
The inability to delight in the Paschal Mystery, available in perceptible, sacramental signs, would be akin to wearing a raincoat in a walk along the beach: we would never get wet, but then again, we would never be refreshed by the ocean’s spray or washed clean in the flood.
Perceptible Signs
The image which the Pope uses in paragraph 24 is particularly evocative. In pointing out that there is an “ocean of grace that floods every celebration,” he is asserting that the presence of grace is objective, whether we recognize it or not—in other words, it is waiting to be discovered. The inability to delight in the Paschal Mystery, available in perceptible, sacramental signs, would be akin to wearing a raincoat in a walk along the beach: we would never get wet, but then again, we would never be refreshed by the ocean’s spray or washed clean in the flood. Paying attention to the perceptible signs opens us up, attunes us to the treasure of the sacramental symbols of the liturgy. Moreover, the discovery of the connection between the perceptible sign and the reality of our salvation results in a kind of delight that leaves us positively stupefied. If we are not able to do this, or if we do not know how to do it, or are unwilling to engage it, the other prescriptions for improving the liturgy (better music, more inspiring preaching, shinier churches) will necessarily fall short. Even if every performative element of the celebration was perfect, “that would not be enough to make our participation full” (23). If wonder is the essence of worship, we must not reduce sincere prayer to a static formula.
Liturgical engagement is predicated on the universal human phenomenon of our capacity for wonder. Reflecting on the phenomenon can assist, but it cannot replace the obligatory effort of each person to be attentive to the things being celebrated. Without that effort, no book in any library will be able to make it happen. And yet, skills can be perfected, perception can be sharpened, abilities can be honed.
The Escape Room
One learns much in an escape room: much about oneself, group dynamics, and teamwork. One learns the value of attention to detail, of observation, and of the importance of synthesis.
Neophytes locked in an escape room can be easily discouraged, especially in the early minutes: everything is new, all seems strange. And yet, practically everything we need to fully engage is already present.
On the other hand, an uncooperative player could be resolved to passively wait until the attendant returns 60 minutes hence to unlatch the door; such an attitude disables the group.
Pope Francis insists on the individual responsibility to embrace the salvific message and to allow oneself to respond in wonder and awe to the magnificent work of God.
Meanwhile, other team members have sprung into action from the first moments. Some get the big picture, others look for patterns, still others search for other clues, assessing, decoding, correlating. Each one in his or her own way contributes to the functioning of the whole.
Likewise, the liturgy provides nearly everything that is necessary. What it cannot supply is personal willingness to engage the mystery. It is up to each one individually, and within the power of the group collectively, to be immersed in what Pope Francis calls “the ocean of grace that floods every celebration.” There are so many reasons to give thanks, so many insights and connections to be revealed, such opportunity to marvel at what God has done for us and to participate in the mystery, the awesome fact of Christ’s Body given for us. Unfortunately, for some Mass-goers, the Sunday celebration is the experience of being locked in an escape room for 60 minutes: they share the strategy of letting the time pass until the doors are re-opened and can finally say with a sigh of relief, “Thanks be to God.”
In Every Age
We must be reminded that we do, in fact, have a capacity for symbol. Even today, we still wonder at the world around us—we are able to make connections, consociations. The monastic tradition has repeated the idea: Si cor non orat in vanum lingua laborat (“If the heart does not pray, the tongue labors in vain”). What is needed is not a new doctrine, not new innovations. What is needed is an embrace of the Pope’s conviction that each one should make the prayer his own. This is why Romano Guardini’s insight was so important. If the focus is external performance and visible participation, not only may it not help, but the obsession with externals can become a debilitating obstacle.
Pope Francis is not the first to call for deeper engagement with the liturgy. Rather than be mystified by the mystery of it and dismiss it as too complicated, as too far out, as too difficult to understand, the Holy Father reminds us to be amazed by it, accepting that it is eminently accessible. Perhaps that fact, that this is easier said than done, explains why the call must be repeated generation after generation.
