the play of forms

THE PLAY OF FORMS

Nature, Culture and Liturgy

By

DOM H. VAN DER LAAN

Translated by

RICHARD PADOVAN

With a Preface by

KEES DEN BIESEN

BRILLLEIDEN · BOSTON

2005

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

A C.I.P. record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.

Originally published in Dutch by E.J. Brill, Leiden, The Netherlandsas Het vormenspel der liturgie (1985), ISBN 90 04 07618 2.

This English edition was made possible in partby a grant from the Van der Laan Foundation.

ISBN 90 04 14633 4

© Copyright 2005 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The NetherlandsKoninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill Academic Publishers,

Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated,stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means,

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printed in the netherlands

CONTENTS

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii

I Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1II Natural Forms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

III Cultural Forms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17IV Liturgical Forms .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27V The Three Form-Worlds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35

VI Functional Forms. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43VII Expressive Forms .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51

VIII Monumental Forms .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61IX The Principle of Liturgical Form .. . . . . . . . . . . 71X Visible and Invisible Things .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81

PREFACE

When he was a novice in St. Paul’s Abbey in Ooster-hout (NL), in the late 1920s, Fr. Hans van der Laanand his fellow novices were once asked to choose a per-sonal motto. One after another they came forward withsome pious quote from the Bible or with an impressivetheological formula. Irritated by such display of self-affirmation, Van der Laan defiantly said he chose Imasummis as his adage, leaving everyone quite baffled bysomething so cryptic. After having led a secret life formore than sixty years, this Ima summis reappeared as thekey to the present book (readers will note its mysteriousappearance on the first page of Chapter I).

Its explanation is quite simple. A Gregorian chantfrom the Christmas season celebrates the birth of Christ“in whom God reconciled the ima with the summa,” thatis, the world from below with the world from above.For Van der Laan, these words expressed an ascendingmovement of reconciliation that gave meaning to thewhole of human life. This concept was his key to reality.He meant it to be the key also to this book, in whichhe reconciles different and often contrasting aspectsof human life by establishing their relationships andultimate purpose.

viii preface

In 1977, Van der Laan published De architectonische ruimte(‘Architectonic Space’), his synthesis of some forty yearsof teaching in the field of architectonic theory. A fewyears earlier he had started to write down some of theinsights that had, from the very beginning, inspired anddirected his exploration of the fundamental principlesof architecture. His theory on architectonic space elab-orates, in fact, just a single aspect of a wide-rangingvision on the relationship between nature, art, and reli-gion and is, ultimately, comprehensible only within thatcontext. This vision, previously set forth in short lec-tures to seminarians from 1974 to 1978, gradually tookon the form of a meticulously formulated treatise whichhe completed in 1980.

Van der Laan then focused on Richard Padovan’stranslation of De architectonische ruimte which was pub-lished in 1983. Considering it to be the finest expressionof his theoretical work, Van der Laan thought he couldend his efforts to propagate his views on architecture.At that time, I was assisting him in his extraordinar-ily creative old age and I insisted very strongly that healso publish what seemed to be a work of equal impor-tance.

For methodological reasons he had eliminated, in thefifteen chapters of De architectonische ruimte, all elementsthat could be considered a strictly personal or non-architectonic explanation of the results of his research.Above all, his book was meant to fill a gap in contem-porary teaching, namely the lack of an encompassingtheory of architecture that was based on precise obser-vations and reached objective and normative conclu-

preface ix

sions. Only in Chapter 14 did he give a modest sketchof a wider interpretative horizon of the phenomenon ofthe human habitat. Yet the breadth, depth and coher-ence of thought that Van der Laan reached in his trea-tise on the relationship between nature, art and religionrevealed his extraordinary qualities as both an observerand a thinker. I therefore did not rest before I per-suaded him to share such a profusion of insights withthose interested in his work. We finished the final draftof the manuscript in 1984. The following year the bookwas published as Het vormenspel der liturgie (‘The Play ofForms of the Liturgy’).

One of the reasons for Van der Laan’s reticence washis reluctance to be a real master, although despite him-self he occasionally found himself to be one. His naturaldisposition did not allow him to get engaged in a truerelationship between master and pupil. As a matter offact, the innumerable hours we spent together in con-versation and reflection more than anything else servedhim to clarify his own thought and not to explain him-self or let himself be challenged. Over the years, he hadrestricted his teaching ever more to a pure presentationof facts and to a reflection on their normative impli-cations, without allowing himself to get involved withhis students’ formation in the true sense of the word.This explains the origin of the terse, objective and dis-passionate style of De architectonische ruimte—a style thatalso marks out the present book, which in a certain wayhe wrote just for himself. It represents the fully maturearticulation of his thought, of which it is the truly mon-umental expression, all enclosed in itself, anything but

x preface

didactic, and without any intention to mediate betweenthe author and his readers.

Over the years I made German and Italian transla-tions of both De architectonische ruimte and Het vormen-spel der liturgie, in which I attempted to incorporate theexperience of ten years of almost daily conversationsthat Van der Laan and I had from 1981 till his deathin 1991. These conversations allowed me to take inand comprehend his thought in its subtlest and fullestform, beyond any written text. Only while I was work-ing on the translations of Het vormenspel der liturgie didI realise how personal and idiosyncratic his way ofexpressing himself is in this little book, and I tried touse a more objective and clearer kind of language. Anumber of typical phrases coined by Van der Laan andcertain Dutch expressions he was particularly fond ofare difficult to translate into any language, but compe-tent native speakers always proved to be invaluable andresourceful partners in the venture.

In the present translation, Richard Padovan has oncemore succeeded in rendering Van der Laan’s thought inan accurate, yet readable way. We discussed a numberof particular phrases and expressions and almost alwaysfound reasonable and elegant solutions to the prob-lems they constituted. Terms like ‘geest’ and ‘geestelijk’or ‘verstand’ and ‘verstandelijk’ cannot be translatedwith a single English term without being equivocaland have, therefore, been translated with a variety ofterms according to their contexts. A particular prob-lem was the distinction he draws between ‘functie’ and

preface xi

‘expressie’ on the one hand and ‘functionaliteit’ and‘expressiviteit’ on the other, a distinction that is notsupported by English language. The terms have almosteverywhere been rendered with ‘function’ and ‘expres-sion’ respectively. Richard Padovan also changed thetitle, somewhat in line with the one I had given thebook in its Italian version, maintaining ‘the play offorms’ but replacing ‘liturgy’ by a subtitle which moreefficiently expresses the contents of the book.

Van der Laan distinguishes between ‘geloof ’ en ‘gods-dienst’, i.e. between the Christian ‘faith’ and ‘religion’in general, but is not always clear and consistent in hisuse of these terms. It is therefore important to realisethat although the author is a Christian, uses typicallyChristian terms, and seems to be writing, above all,about catholic liturgy, his horizon is much wider and hisintentions universal. It is quite impossible to describethat horizon with a single word or expression: Van derLaan does not only write here as an architect, but also,and much more, as a craftsman, liturgist, philosopher,artist, theologian, and man of prayer. He writes hereas a searcher and thinker beyond all such categoriesto which he attached no value whatsoever. His workgives, in fact, a completely new definition of the rela-tionship between Christian faith and the world, on thebasis of an extremely rare balance, in his own person,between the artisan, the thinker, and the religious man.He was intimately familiar with the numerous materi-als he worked with, like stone and wood, linen and silk,metal and silver. At the same time, he also possessed the

xii preface

extraordinary ability to systematically reflect on the cre-ative process itself, at times reaching a genuinely philo-sophical level. He moreover considered nature and theworld of art to be the sole foundations of the expressionof religious beliefs, i.e. he regarded nature and cultureas the treasures which every religion has to draw fromin order to manifest itself in language, symbols and ritu-als. This led him to develop a profound anthropologicalinsight into the special importance that prayer and con-templation have in human life.

According to Van der Laan, Christianity lost its vitalcontact with human culture many centuries ago, turn-ing in on itself and creating a subculture character-ized, in particular, by a so-called ‘sacred’ symbolism.He fiercely rejected the traditional distinction betweensecular and sacred art, which he considered to be abetrayal of Christianity’s very essence, of its relationshipwith the world, and of art itself. His secret was a modeof thought that is best described as ‘analogical’. Everysingle aspect or level of the reality in which we live cancertainly be analyzed and interpreted separately by log-ical and causal thought, but only analogical thoughtis able to establish the relationships between all suchaspects and levels and to understand them as parts ofa single, all-encompassing and meaningful whole. In hisview, only analogical thought corresponds to the verystructure of human existence and defines the funda-mental role of Christian faith—to offer the hermeneu-tic key that enables us to establish the true sense andmeaning of both nature and culture, of both ritual andthe invisible world.

preface xiii

Analogical thought always starts ‘from below’, as heused to say, so as to be able to move upwards. Thecrucial step of this upward movement consists in whatVan der Laan calls the ‘expression’ of our artefacts.Together with the ‘plastic number’, this notion consti-tutes his most important discovery. The present bookshows that the ‘expression’ of functional forms estab-lishes the relationship between matter and spirit. But,in addition, this expression also constitutes the refer-ence point of the analogies that enable us to relate toeach other the triad of nature, culture and liturgy andthe triad of the visible world, the invisible world, andthe Creator of both.

Van der Laan was totally fascinated by the wonderfulhuman response to nature, that is art, by the beautyand density this response achieves in its very apex,the rituals of liturgy, and by the invisible world thathe considered to be the source and destination of allthat is visible. His love and passion for every tangibleobject, the breadth of his vision, and the heights towhich he aspired are embodied in this smallest of hiswritings. He hoped this ‘testament’ would stimulateothers to explore, parallel to his own architectonicresearch, the numerous other fields of human creativity,and to discover their importance for the whole ofhuman life.

Kees den BiesenGiove, February 2005

I

INTRODUCTION

ima summis

1. When Prosper Guéranger, the founding father of the Dom Guéranger’sdefinitionBenedictine congregation of Solesmes, published his

studies on the liturgy in the late 1870s, he began thefirst part of his Institutions liturgiques with a simple butvery exact definition: ‘Considered generally, the liturgyis the entirety of symbols, hymns, and actions by whichthe Church manifests and gives expression to its wor-ship of God.’ So liturgy is broadly a system of exter-nal forms: significant objects, carefully chosen wordsand conscious gestures. We encounter the same formsin social life and culture, where they enable people tocommunicate with each other. Only in liturgy, however,do these forms serve to express people’s shared commu-nion with God; in other words, religious worship.

The external forms common to both liturgy and cul-ture stand out as specific forms against a more generalbackground. Symbols are special objects, i.e. objectsfrom which a particular meaning can be read. Songconsists of words of which the sound and duration havebeen so refined in melody and rhythm that they take ona meaning beyond their purely intelligible content. Andgestures are human actions whose intention is not onlyphysical but also mental.

Thus liturgical form is based on objects, words andgestures derived from the cultural order, and these in

2 chapter i

turn can be considered as particular forms of some-thing still more general, because the forms of the thingswe make are always modifications of natural forms.Since we cannot bring such objects into existence outof nothing, we always make them out of something else,and that thing is in the last instance a natural given.

In the same way, words are sounds formed in themouth, the basis of which is a natural phenomenonof vibration. Finally, our gestures are movements madeby a living being, and such movements are alwaysreactions to the natural force of gravity.

Liturgical forms are ultimately based, therefore, onthe forms of nature: things, sounds and movements.But before these are absorbed into the liturgy they haveundergone transformation by human culture.

2. Like Dom Guéranger, the Second Vatican CouncilVatican IIdefinition gave a short summary of its doctrine concerning liturgy.

The Constitution on the Liturgy entitled Sacrosanctum Concil-ium contains a definition of liturgy that is at the sametime a description of the divine service of the Church.In the seventh article we read: ‘The liturgy must beseen as the exercise of the priesthood of Jesus Christ, inwhich the sanctification of human beings is signified bysensorily perceptible signs, and brought about in a waythat is proper to each of them. The complete publicworship is exercised in the liturgy through the mysticalBody of Jesus Christ, comprising Head and members.’

Thus in liturgy the two aspects of worship—humansalvation and divine honour—are signified and realizedby means of outward signs. What will concern us here

introduction 3

is the form of these signs, and specifically the formof the symbols or significant objects. Liturgical singingand gesture are beyond our scope.

3. Liturgy is as it were a celestial undertaking that Earthlythings andreverence to God

is played out here on earth. The Vatican Constitutionspeaks of a complete honouring of God, the true wor-ship that is due to him, the same that is paid to himby the angels and saints in Heaven. Furthermore itspeaks of sensorily perceptible things: signa sensibilia,which belong here on earth and are bound to time andspace. The world that we call the liturgy is played outbetween these two poles: created matter and uncreatedspirit. To deny that God is directly involved in this isas wrong as to deny that material things have a partin it. The unique quality of liturgy is precisely its com-bination of the two: the involvement of earthly thingsand phenomena in the worship of God and the eternalsalvation of human beings. The reality of this involve-ment should excite in us the greatest respect for theseexternal forms.

4. The earthly things that play a role in liturgy are in Distinctionbetween the threeearthly contexts

the first place rooted in the human word, the humanaction and the human artefact: in the outward formsthat we encounter in every culture, where these formsof word, action and object are developed in song,gesture and symbol. One might therefore be inclinedto regard liturgy as one of the many manifestations ofculture. However, the liturgical order is no less radicallydistinct from the cultural one, than is the latter from the

4 chapter i

order of nature. Human culture cannot be consideredas one of the many natural phenomena, because therules by which culture is ordered are made by humanbeings, in contrast to the great laws that order nature.In the same way, the rules of liturgy and the demandsthat it imposes on its forms have a unique character,distinct from those of culture.

Certain natural phenomena have a striking resem-blance to particular forms that occur in human cul-ture. The mutual cooperation of individuals such asoccurs in flocks of birds and in colonies of bees and antsresembles collaboration in human societies—and it isan ancient wisdom that human beings can learn fromthe example of such animals. However, this does notdetract from the fact that true human culture beginsonly with the emergence of intellect. What arises fault-lessly in nature under the influence of the creativepower of the divine intellect is handed over, in humanculture, to our created intellect.

Similarly, circumstances arise in culture that resem-ble those of liturgy, such as gatherings and feasts withsinging, dancing and tangible marks of honour; butthere is still no question of liturgy, because this onlycomes into existence with the appearance of faith andtrue knowledge of God.

5. All this follows from the fact that as human beings weMatter, intellectand faith belong simultaneously to three worlds. We are created

as one of the material beings that compose nature.Through our intellect, however, by which we rise abovethe conditions of matter and thus transcend time and

introduction 5

space, we form a separate entity, within nature, thatmust maintain itself by means of a culture that it itselfbrings into existence. Furthermore, through our faithwe belong to a still higher world, which transcends bothmatter and intellect.

6. As material beings we are drawn from the earth and Nature, cultureand liturgyabsorbed into the natural order. We are bound to the

earth by our weight, we breathe the air and we feedon plants and animals, and when we die our bodies aregiven back again to the earth. As such we communicatewith beings that lie below us in the order of creation:we share with them our material existence, despite thefact that through our intellect we rise above them. Inthe same way, animals are superior to plants—even thesmallest animals to the largest trees—for, being guidedby their senses, they can move freely over the earth’ssurface. And plants are in turn superior to all the deadmatter in the universe, because they are alive and growaccording to an inherent principle.

However, as intelligent beings we are also absorbedinto a cultural order that we ourselves must create andthrough which we communicate with beings that arenot our inferiors but our equals: our fellow humans.Just as plants and also animals need each other—if onlyfor procreation—humans too depend on each other tomaintain their existence. As a result of our physical dif-ferences we have each our own talents and must helpeach other out. But our mind, too, which from child-hood onwards develops through sensory perceptions,draws support from the experience of others, and even

6 chapter i

that of the people of earlier times, in order to grow to itsfull potential. The mind must be trained, so the relationof teacher to pupil is intrinsic to our created intellect.In a certain sense this is true even of the angels, despitetheir being pure spirit: they must hand on to each otherthe light that they receive from God.

Finally, as Christians we are absorbed into a liturgicalorder, through which we communicate with beings thatstand above us in the hierarchy of creation: with angels,pure spirits, and with God, the creator himself.

7. To this external communication, which takes place inLooking, thinkingand praying three different contexts, corresponds an internal com-

munication that manifests itself in three distinct men-tal activities: looking, thinking and praying. In the firstinstance we must derive our knowledge from materialthings by means of sensory images that we form ofthem by looking; from these the intellect can abstractits ideas. So our mind is occupied with things that liebelow it in the order of creation, and which it puts to itsown use: that is, with sensory images.

Once in possession of these ideas we can bringthem into relation with each other by thinking, and sobroaden and deepen our knowledge. We then let ourperception rest: our mind is occupied with things on itsown level, with concepts.

Even repeated looking and thinking, however, cannotenable us to reach that for which in the last instance weare created: knowledge of the creator himself. For thiswe must put aside not only looking but also thinking,in order to enter into ourselves and to concentrate our

introduction 7

spiritual faculties on the one thing necessary, as theGospel puts it. Now our mind is occupied with thingsthat lie above it.

8. Although these three occupations of our interior life Unity of thethree contextsare clearly distinct from each other they are never-

theless intimately connected. In the same way, thethree external contexts of our life—nature, culture andliturgy—must be seen as mutually distinct but neveras detached from each other. We distinguish betweenthem precisely in order to relate them. Just as everymaterial thing has length, breadth and height and isunthinkable if one of these dimensions is missing, sotoo all three contexts of our external life are neededto give it its full reality, and all three ocupations ofour interior life are necessary for the full growth of ourmind.

9. The close bond between the three contexts is shown Nature as thefoundation ofculture and liturgy

clearly by the fact that culture cannot exist withoutnature, nor liturgy without culture. Of these three, onlythe natural context is an objective given; the other twomust be deduced from it. Nature with all its createdforms is the only firm ground for everything that wemust add to it to answer the needs of our existence,our culture and our liturgy. We need only think howall our making must start out from something given bynature. We cannot make anything in its entirety, for ourmaking is always the reshaping of some natural thing.We can only transform natural forms, so our creativityis necessarily relative. Our thinking, too, is dependent

8 chapter i

on sensory perceptions of material things, and our faithmust be grafted onto our intellectual faculties.

Therefore in what follows we shall first considerthe intrinsic properties of each of the three contexts,in order later to relate them together. We shall seeliturgical forms emerge, by way of cultural forms, fromthe repertoire of natural forms.

10. In the Book of Ecclesiasticus we read that we areLiturgical objects

dependent on nature for food, clothes and a house; andsince food requires utensils, culture clearly manifeststhree great categories of artefacts. The same threecategories reappear in the liturgy: the altar vessels, thevestments and the church building; they all have theirorigin in the natural necessities of our bodily existence.

To these must be added the icon to support oursensory perception and the book with the written wordto support our intellect.

II

NATURAL FORMS

1. The three contexts of human life—nature, culture The creation story

and liturgy—are clearly distinct from each other, butform nevertheless a single whole. Because they areinterdependent, a true vision of liturgy and of thedemands it places on its forms is only possible againstthe background of the other two form-worlds. For atrue vision of the form-world of nature—the ultimategiven—and of the way we interact with it, we must startwith creation, first as it is revealed to us in the pagesof Holy Scripture, and second as we experience it ineveryday life.

Of all creatures, we are the last created. The bookof Genesis makes it appear that God deliberated overour creation: ‘Let us make human beings, who in ourimage will rule over all creation’. Whereas before Godhad only to speak for all other beings to be calledinto existence—God spoke and it was—now the word‘create’, with which the creation story begins, is threetimes repeated: ‘So God created man in his own image;in the image of God he created him; male and femalehe created them’. The appearance of intellect in theworld of matter is described as a masterpiece, whichbrings the whole creation to completion and prepares itas it were for the Incarnation.

10 chapter ii

2. The ascent of creation towards its completion byCommentary of StGregory of Nyssa humanity is beautifully described by St Gregory of

Nyssa in his dispute with his sister Macrina concerningthe soul and the resurrection:

The Word teaches us that God approached the creation ofhumankind in a specific way, following an orderly progres-sion from one thing to the next. For we did not appear onearth as soon as the universe had been created, but werepreceded, as the history tells us, by the non-rational crea-tures, and these in turn by the plants. In this way the Wordmakes clear, in my opinion, that the life force was mingledstep by step, as it were, with corporeal nature: it first estab-lished itself in creatures without sensory perception, then itreached those endowed with senses, and finally it ascendedto spiritual and rational beings.

So all beings are either corporeal or rational. Corporealexistence is either animate or inanimate (by animate I meanthat which partakes of life). Of the living beings, some areendowed with the faculties of sensory perception, others not.And of the beings with faculties of sensory perception someare endowed with reason, others not.

Sensate life cannot exist without matter, and mental lifecannot occur in a body except in conjunction with sensoryperception. Therefore the creation of humankind comes lastin the story, as of a being that contains every other life-formwithin itself: those that we encounter in the plant world noless than those we meet with among the non-rational beings.

Humans share with the plants the need to feed themselvesand grow: observe how plants take up food through theirroots and give it out again in the form of fruit and leaves.And in common with the non-rational beings, humans havethe ability to guide themselves by sensory perception. Butthe thinking and reasoning faculty is something unmixed andunique which human beings independently possess.

natural forms 11

In this text St Gregory analyses the whole structureof creation. First he makes a distinction between allmaterial things and the angels, which are pure spirit:the visibilia and invisibilia of the Creed. Then he dis-tinguishes within the sphere of material things betweendead matter and everthing that lives, after which hepoints to the difference between the vegetative life ofplants and the sensate life of animals. Finally he sepa-rates human beings with their intellect from the animalswhose life is purely sensual.

3. St Gregory pursues a line of thought in which he Affirmation bySt Augustinefollows the creation story step by step, and shows how

we contain within ourselves all forms of existence andhow we surpass them by reason of our intellect. StAugustine in his turn condenses this in the followingaphorism: ‘We share being with the stones, life with theplants, feeling with the animals and knowing with theangels.’

4. It was the ancient view that the material universe is The ancient view

composed of four elements: fire, air, water and earth.This agrees with the creation story in so far as theseelements correspond to the phases of creation beforethe appearance of plant life, and constitute as it werethe prehistory of living beings. Every creature is formedwithin its own element: plants and animals on theearth, fishes in water, birds in the air, and all of theseunder the sun.

12 chapter ii

5. We too live upon the earth, and owing to our weightHumanexperienceof nature

we are subject to the forces that hold the universetogether. Yet we are not like the stones, which lie wherethey fall. Because we are alive we can move and socounteract the forces of nature. Like plants and treeswe can stand erect, and like animals we can move fromplace to place, guided by our senses. Every manifes-tation of the material world lies within our range, butin us these assume a quite different character throughbeing commanded by our intellect and free will.

The animals, despite their independent form, cannotfree themselves from the cycle of nature into which theyare absorbed. They are bound by their instinct andtheir lack of an independent will to become faultlesslinks in the natural chain.

We, however, can not only move freely in time andspace but even rise above them by means of our intel-lect. Thanks to our memory and our imaginative fac-ulty we can set them objectively before the mind andcreate as it were our own space and time, of whicharchitecture, with its delimited spaces, and music, withits own beginning and ending, are outstanding manifes-tations.

We are thus in a real sense made to be the culmina-tion of the visible creation, and as such we stand mid-way between the creator and his creation.

6. Formed in God’s image and likeness, we are anHumankindas the link

between creatorand creation

image of God with respect to the rest of creation.With respect to God, on the other hand, we form acondensed image of the whole creation. The Dutch

natural forms 13

poet Joost van den Vondel (1587–1679) expresses thisbeautifully in the third book of his Considerations on Godand Religion:

The great world’s mirrored ball I leave asideAnd see first humankind, by Greeks raised upAnd exalted with the name mikros kosmos;For we portray and measure out on earth in miniatureThat which is reflected at full size in the whole universe,And God has condensed and poured himself out in us,Making us viceregents in his stead,And all other creatures subject to our intellect.

Here is plainly expressed how for God we condensewithin ourselves, as microcosm, the whole creation, andourselves act as his deputies on earth.

7. We must always keep in mind this concept of cre- The sensoryimage is thelink betweenmatter and mind

ation, in which humankind appears as the intermediarybetween God and his work, because it is in this perspec-tive that our life here on earth and our interaction withthings take on their true meaning.

For our intellect allows us not only to master thethings that lie below us in this world, but also throughthem to gain knowledge of God, who stands above us.Our interaction with the visible world tells us some-thing about our relation to God, because it resem-bles God’s interaction with the whole creation, humanbeings included.

Our senses are the means by which we make contactwith the visible things around us. From them we derivethe interior images on which we base our knowledge.The sensory images that we form of things, and which

14 chapter ii

form the connection between the material and mentalworlds, can be compared to humanity itself, which asimage and condensation of the whole creation providesthe link between it and the creator. On one side thereis a relation between matter and mind, and on theother a relation between creation and creator. Just asfor us things are condensed in images, for God thewhole creation is condensed in humankind. Interactionwith his creation is for God interaction with humanbeings; interaction with the things around us is for usinteraction with the image that we form of those things.

So these two worlds resemble each other: first, GodThe great analogy

and the whole creation with humankind as intermedi-ary; and then, within that creation, humans and thethings around them with as intermediary the sensoryimage. Or as Vondel expresses it:

For we portray and measure out on earth in miniatureThat which is reflected at full size in the whole universe.

8. Consequently if the mind is to rise to the spiritualAffirmationby Dionysius level where it belongs, and not confine itself to regulat-

ing our material and sensual existence, then it must beguided towards the world of the spirit and the knowl-edge of God by the perception of material things. Foras Dionysius the Areopagite writes at the beginning ofhis book on the celestial hierarchies: ‘A mind such asours can rise to the immaterial conception and contem-plation proper to the celestial hierarchies (the angels)only by allowing itself to be guided towards it by way ofthe material things that lie within its reach.’

natural forms 15

9. Thus our sensory contact with the forms of nature The twofoldsignificanceof our contactwith things

has a twofold aim. In the first place its purpose isto guide the actions and movements of our body andintegrate our physical existence with nature. This doesnot happen instinctively as it does with animals, whichtranslate the sensory impressions they receive from thethings around them directly into actions and move-ments. By means of perception we form interior imagesto which we react consciously and intentionally (that is,by using our intellect and our will) and so guide ouractions and movements.

Furthermore our memory and our imaginative fac-ulty enable us to retain these images and make use ofthem later for our intellectual development. Our sen-sory contact with things is directed not only down-wards but also upwards: towards our spiritual well-being.

10. Now, this upward movement can take place in two The twofoldmovementof our mind

ways. As we have already seen, our intellect can deriveconcepts from sensory images, and by reasoning anddeduction it can develop these in order to arrive atknowledge of the truth. Here the emphasis is chiefly onthe causal connection between things.

But as we now see, that sensory image can also serve,in its role as intermediary between our intellect and theworld perceived by the senses (that is, between mindand matter), as the basis for a comparison with therelation of creator and creation, in which we ourselvesappear as the intermediary. Here the main stress is onthe analogous relation between things.

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In order to connect these two movements of thehuman mind we must first distinguish clearly betweenthem, for it is through this connection that each cancome fully into its own. The first movement proceedsby way of reasoning and deduction, which is by na-ture complicated and necessarily multiple. The secondmovement follows a quite different path, basing itself onexternal things in order to rise by means of analogiesto the contemplation of the simple truth. The firstmovement is characterized by the word ‘because’, thesecond by the words ‘just as’.

The second kind of process is more poetic than thefirst, but both are equally necessary in our life. Thedaily liturgy of the monastic hours honours the onejust as much as the other, comprising as it does bothreadings and psalms, while it even alternates the read-ings with chants. And what is most striking is that theGospel gives preference to the analogical movement, bywhich the mind rises directly to the contemplation oftruth through comparisons based on its contact withexternal things. The parables clearly follow this process:in each, a simple natural or cultural circumstance is thestarting point for an analogical description of the invisi-ble reality that is the Kingdom of God.

III

CULTURAL FORMS

1. Besides the natural forms that surround us, human Artificial andnatural thingslife involves a whole other world of forms: that of the

things we make ourselves. We have to add this sec-ond, artificial world to the natural one in order to holdour own in nature. Animals find in nature, and specifi-cally in the natural element in which they are created,everything they need to keep alive and develop them-selves fully. By instinct they direct themselves infalliblytowards their intended goal. Despite their autonomy,animals are wholly caught up in the cycle of nature,from which we humans are detached by our intellectand free will. Our existence is not determined in a fixedway; we ourselves must choose our goal and find themeans to attain it. How we fit our lives into nature islargely up to us.

The first things needed for our integration into na-ture have already been mentioned: food, clothes and ahouse. To these must be added utensils for the food andthe implements needed for the preparing and makingof all these things. In the case of animals, nature pro-vides everything they need. Their limbs are completelydesigned for their narrowly specific functions, whereaswe have to equip our limbs with tools according to theparticular task in hand.

So in order to fit our existence into the natural envi-

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ronment we must create intermediary forms designedto bring about a harmony between our body andnature. This is achieved by adding these forms to oneor other of the two terms, body or nature. Thus thehouse is added to nature, clothing to the body.

2. For the making of these additions we are dependentThe dependenceof artificial

things on natureon the natural form-world in two respects. The neces-sary materials must always be extracted from the earthor from living things: stone and wood for our houses,wool and linen for our clothing, and self-evidently thefood we prepare in order to adapt it to our needs.

Our making is not creative in the sense of bringingthings into being out of nothing: it is no more than areflection or shadow of the creation of nature. Since weare made in the image of God, our making is an imageof his making. That which in nature occurs on the basisof an unlimited, creating intelligence, happens with ourartefacts on the basis of a limited, created intelligence.Our creation can be only a re-creation.

Similarly, with respect to the form of the things wemake, we depend in the first instance on the forms ofnature. The intellect, which must direct the making ofthese things, can only develop itself by means of imagesthat we derive through our senses from the externalworld.

3. A consequence of this characteristic of our cre-The bodilyand intellectualuse of artefacts

ated intellect—that it must derive its information fromthings perceived by the senses—is that we cannot in-stantly make the things we need in their perfect form.

cultural forms 19

Paradoxical as it may sound, it is by making thingsthat we have to learn how to make them: we mustalways proceed by trial and error. The mental imagethat guides the intellect in the making process must bederived in the first instance from natural things, anddeveloped further in response to the form of the arte-fact itself.

Therefore the form of the thing we make has atwofold goal: it must aim not only at the physicalpurpose for which it is intended, but also at a mentalpurpose, because the intellect needs that form for itsown development. The first aim of the form is a contactbetween the body and nature, and the second a contactbetween the thing made and the mind. Consequentlythe forms of our artefacts must be both functional, witha view to the body, and expressive, with a view to themind.

4. The functioning of the things we make is achieved External andinternal relationsthrough carefully balanced relations between their form

and the natural datum to which they are added. It isby means of this addition, either to the body or tonature, that the sought-after harmony is established.Thus clothing is functional when it fits the body. It isa matter of a relation between the form of the artefactand a natural given; the form of the artefact is onlyone of the two terms of the relation. But when itis a matter of the intellect being informed about thething’s function through the perception of its form,this information can come only from relations thatcan be read within the form itself. The form of the

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artefact must itself embody relations between terms,which express, by a kind of reflection or analogy, theprimary functional relation between the artefact andeither the body or the natural environment.

If the function of a garment is to clothe the nakedbody, then in order to express that function it mustenable us somehow to rediscover both terms—garmentand body—in its own parts. A common usage is todistinguish between under- and over-garments: this issomething that arises from the very function of theclothing, since the over-garment is thereby protectedfrom direct contact with the body. Then, with a view toexpression, the underclothing (left partly visible) playsthe role of the naked body and the over-garment thatof the clothing proper, so the clothing as a wholebecomes an image of the clothed body. In order toexpress the function of clothing, the clothing itself isclothed.

Function is a matter of the relation of the artificialform to the natural given; expression is a matter ofthe relation between the parts of the artificial form it-self.

5. This double aspect of the artefact leads to the exis-Functional andexpressive forms tence of two categories of forms that arise in human

culture. First there are the forms of things in which theemphasis is on function, use by the body, and secondlythose forms in which the stress lies rather on expression,use by the mind.

At a primitive stage of human culture it is enoughfor things to function satisfactorily, without their forms

cultural forms 21

being specially refined with a view to the developmentof the mind. But at a more advanced stage peoplediscover the value of expression. Although this has nodirect impact on the body it will stimulate in turn thefurther development of functionality.

The forms of tools, which play only a temporaryrole during the preparation of things, may easily fail todevelop beyond the purely functional stage. But eventhen some people will appreciate the importance ofexpression for the use of the tools, despite its temporarynature.

6. Because all human beings must provide for their Developmentof the world ofcultural forms

basic needs in similar ways, the things they make insimilar circumstances will more or less resemble eachother. The artefacts thus provide each other with mod-els, and this stimulates constant improvement. Artefactsmade by different members of a given culture can inter-act fruitfully, just as, in the life of the intellect, conceptsderived from sensory images and mutually related byreasoning can develop one another.

What is true of each artefact separately—that it isdeveloped step by step through experience—appliesequally, therefore, to cultural products as a whole. Theevolution of their design also comes about gradually,developing from a primitive stage into a classic period,whose products serve as a yardstick for yet furtherrefinement.

It is characteristic of all great civilizations to stressthe expressive aspect of design; sometimes, throughdecadence or over-civilization, this is pursued at the

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expense of functionality. The fundamental purpose ofthings is thus lost sight of, for in the case of thingsintended to serve the body this lies in their func-tion.

7. The things we need for our body (and which, tomake them completely human, we also make acces-sible to the intellect) do not, however, exhaust theMonumental

forms forcommunicationbetween people

world of cultural forms. For we communicate not onlywith the material nature around us, but also with ourfellow humans. This is neither a contact of matterwith matter nor of matter with mind, but of mindwith mind. Such communication cannot occur, how-ever, without the mediation of material things: sounds,movements or objects. This shows once more the par-ticular condition of our spirit: its being tied to mat-ter. We always need to entrust our thoughts to exter-nal forms, from which others can then read themoff.

If they are to serve as intermediaries in human com-munication, the sensory images that we derive fromthe visible world, and which take on a mental, invisibleexistence in our personal contact with things, must bereturned once more to the external world and take onan autonomous and visible form. First, things assumedthe subtle form of mental images; now these images areconverted into signs. Objects become symbols, move-ments gestures, sounds language. They become as itwere distillations: abbreviated forms of that from whichthey are derived. A meal is reduced to a toast, a sin-gle drink; a house to a monument, a single upright

cultural forms 23

stone, like that of Jacob in Bethel; clothes to insignia,for which a single button, bow or seam is enough.

All these signs derive their significance in humancommunication from the nature of that which theyrepresent. The full development of the armoury of signsrequired for the smooth functioning of a culture ismade possible by a system of mutual agreements andconventions. Mental images are all that is needed forone’s individual interaction with things. Signs appear assoon as people have to interact with each other: whenmind speaks to mind.

8. The expressive power demanded to make under- The importance ofexpressive formsstandable the form of signs is derived in the first place

from the expressive form of the things we need forour physical existence. It is of the greatest importancefor human communication that in designing the every-day things required for our physical existence we givesufficient attention to the expressiveness of their form.Therefore a great civilization will refine even the toolsand other things that serve a merely temporary physicalpurpose, with a view to their expression.

From the point of view of their physical purpose orfunction our artefacts have a mainly individual signifi-cance. But their expression gives them not only an indi-vidual significance but above all a cultural one, becausefrom this expression we derive the means to communi-cate with each other.

9. We therefore distinguish three kinds of form within The threeculturalform-types

the world of cultural forms, irrespective of whether

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these involve sounds, movements or objects. These are:first, forms in which the stress is laid on physical pur-pose (functional forms); second, forms in which theemphasis is placed on their mental objective, this beingto inform the intellect about the physical purpose (ex-pressive forms); and third, forms that serve purely forcommunication between minds (signs or monumentalforms).

These are the three types of form that determine theappearance of culture. Using our innate faculties, weadd them to the created forms of nature.

10. Monumental forms, whose purpose is the exchangeThe twocategories of

monumental formsof thoughts, are thus wholly distinct from the two othertypes of form whose principal aim is physical. Wecan make a further distinction between functional andexpressive signs; for there are signs whose external formis purely intended to convey a specific thought, butothers whose form is specially refined with the addi-tional aim of expressing, through relations between theparts, their function as signs, i.e., their ability to con-vey thoughts in general. This happens for instance inpoetry, where sounds and rhythms are weighed outwith respect to one another with a view to an expres-sion that transcends the meaning of the words as such.The words are allowed to speak to each other, as itwere.

One might ask whether there are also monumen-tal signs in which the function of conveying thoughtis abandoned altogether. In this context one thinks ofSt Paul’s reference to glossolalia in his first epistle to

cultural forms 25

the Corinthians. The question is interesting becausehe excludes the ‘gift of tongues’ from liturgical gath-erings, preferring ‘five intelligible words’ to ‘thousandsof words spoken in the language of ecstasy’.

IV

LITURGICAL FORMS

1. Since we cannot call our making genuine creation, The culturalorder an imageof nature

but rather a reshaping of one or other element of thecreated world of nature, we must regard the whole playof cultural forms, not as an autonomous form-world,but as a human reaction to the order of nature. It is away of adapting that order to human existential needs:to the needs of the body by means of the function of ourartefacts, and to the needs of the mind through theirexpression. By these means natural things become bothusable and intelligible. The limitless variety of naturalforms with their inscrutable order and harmony givesway to a very limited range of forms whose connectionsare readily intelligible; for instance, we can count up tolarge numbers by reducing them to those few relationsto the unit that enable us to count up to ten. Onehas only to consider how architecture, which arisesfrom our need of habitation, has the power to givemeasure to the measureless space of nature, which thusbecomes knowable for us; or how in song and dancethe continuous passage of time takes on discrete form,and is thus made countable.

The whole creation is represented and made intel-ligible for us through the cultural order. That order isthe great concrete image that we form for ourselves ofnature.

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2. We must look upon the small cycle of our making,Two cycles

in which the form of the things made returns as infor-mation to the intellect that makes them, as the coun-terpart of the great cycle of creation, which issues fromGod in order to return to him. Called into being outof nothingness, creation must ultimately be created forGod himself. The form making of culture as a wholeperforms the same role in relation to the forms ofnature as does the expression of each separate artefactwith respect to its function. Expression is the means bywhich the things we make return to the intellect, thefoundation of their form; the products of a whole cul-ture serve to return the entire creation to its foundation,almighty God.

3. As long as we turn to God only as individuals,Interior prayerand liturgy our experience of the things around us, the products

of nature as well as of culture, provide us with anadequate image of our relation to God. For such privatedevotion no liturgy is needed; when borrowed fromthe liturgy, such interior prayer must be seen as aderivation. Genuine interior prayer brings us into directcontact with God through the contact we have with thethings around us. It is as it were the archetypal form ofliturgy: through our interaction with things, we learn tocommunicate with God.

4. In the sixth chapter of the tenth book of his Con-The testimonyof St Augustine fessions St Augustine gives us a striking instance of this

phenomenon when he asks: ‘But what do I love, when Ilove my God? Not material beauty or beauty of a tem-

liturgical forms 29

poral order; not the brilliance of earthly light, so wel-come to our eyes; not the sweet melody of harmonyand song; not the fragrance of flowers, perfumes andspices; not manna or honey; not limbs such as the bodydelights to embrace. It is not these that I love when Ilove my God. And yet, when I love him, it is true that Ilove a light of a certain kind, a voice, a perfume, a food,an embrace; but they are of the kind that I love in myinner self, when my soul is bathed in light that is notbound by space; when it listens to a sound that neverdies away; when it breathes fragrance that is not bornaway on the wind; when it tastes food that is never con-sumed by the eating; when it clings to an embrace fromwhich it is not severed by fulfilment of desire. That iswhat I love when I love my God.’

Thus all personal prayer is nothing else than a trans-lation of our relations with things into our relation withGod. The parables in the Gospels teach us exactly that.

5. But as soon as human beings turn collectively to God Cultural andliturgical signsspecific external forms become necessary, just as when

people exchange ideas among themselves.In human communication, the interior images by

which we communicate with things acquire an inde-pendent existence and become signs. Likewise, in ourcollective communication with God, the great real im-age of the creation represented by the cultural form-world acquires an independent existence as a supremesign, which we call liturgy. If we want to condense thatimage into an external form or sign, that sign mustbe an abbreviated form of the whole world of cul-

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tural forms, comprising both the things we need for ourphysical existence and the signs we use to communicatewith each other.

We derive from our interaction with things the signsor monumental forms we need in order to commu-nicate with each other. We must derive the signs weneed for communion with God—liturgical signs—fromour interaction both with things and with our fellowhumans.

6. Within the cultural order a cycle exists between aForm-types andform-worlds functional form that serves and an expressive form that

presents us with an intelligible image of the function.In order that we may communicate with each other,these two forms are complemented by the monumentalforms of signs. Similarly, a great cycle exists in thewhole creation, between the created forms of natureand the world of cultural forms, the latter giving usan intelligible image of the former; and for the sakeof our collective communication with God these twoform-worlds together are complemented by the sign-world of the liturgy.

7. In the limited cycle of human culture, forms or signsThe basis of theliturgical sign are based on the expressive forms of the things we need

to sustain our body, such as houses, clothes, and utensilsfor our food. These signs are reduced to distillations ofthe expressive forms because, as signs, the function ofthese forms is purely fictitious.

We find the same pattern repeated on a larger scalein the great cycle of the whole creation. Liturgical signs

liturgical forms 31

rely not only on the expressive forms of culture, but onthe cultural order as a whole; in other words, it restson the intelligible image of nature that culture providesus with. Consequently we must see the liturgical form-world as an abbreviated form or distillation of thecomplete treasury of cultural forms. The abbreviationis no longer applied to each form in itself, as with thesigns used by human culture, but to the liturgical formsin their entirety. The liturgy as a whole is a sign. Thatis why Dom Guéranger speaks of the entirety of externalforms needed to give expression to the worship of God.

8. The result of this is that in the liturgy the ordinary Ordinary thingsand yet signsthings of our daily lives, and even the signs that serve

in communication between people, reappear as signsintended for our communion with God. Together theyform a résumé, an autonomous image, of our wholehuman existence in relation to nature and our fellowhumans.

We rediscover in liturgy the entirety of words, ges-tures and objects that govern our daily life, but reducedto a few typical words, typical actions and typicalobjects. Houses, clothing and utensils, the paintings andbooks of ordinary life are represented by a single aula,a great hall that manifests the basic form of the humandwelling in all its purity; by a few vestments, but suchas bring to light the archetypal form of human clothing;by the basic types of utensil used at an ordinary meal,a dish for food and a cup for drink; by a few effigiesof Christ and Mary; and by the book of all books, theHoly Scripture.

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So the ordinary things become signs, but they retaintheir normal appearance. They are still real houses, realgarments and real utensils. The actions and movementsemployed in liturgy are the normal ones, and the ordi-nary monumental forms of communication are used:language, gesture and symbol. But all these take ona wholly new significance, because they now serve forcommunication with God.

In all these cases, however, the original intention ofthe things derived from human culture—to completenature and adapt it to human existence—is abstracted.Just as, with monumental cultural forms, the physicalfunctioning survives only as a foundation for expres-sion, likewise with liturgical signs the completion ofnature survives only as background and motivationfor the world of cultural forms. Precisely because inliturgy the completion of nature, with its ever-changingcircumstances, no longer applies, these forms can beraised to a pure universality.

9. Thus liturgical forms are essentially no different fromLiturgical andcultural forms

essentiallythe same

cultural forms. Churches are human habitations, whichare not used to live in, however, but to express dwellingwith God. But in order to better fulfil their liturgicalfunction, which consists only in their being a sign,they must be exemplary types of the human dwelling.Liturgical vestments, too, are real garments, althoughin the liturgy they no longer serve their function asclothing but are used purely as a sign and worn overordinary clothes.

The external forms of liturgy have thus a quite

liturgical forms 33

different value from that which the same things havein culture. Even the signs, which serve in culture formutual communication between individuals, now servepurely for a shared communication with God. Theythus take on an entirely new significance.

10. The way to guarantee this new liturgical value of Guaranteeof liturgicalsignificance

both ordinary things and signs is to create a hiatus,as it were, in the two fundamental conditions of ourmaterial existence: space and time. Within this intervalthings have their liturgical significance. By appointmentand institution, pieces of space and time are set apart,within which things and signs hold their liturgical value.

This has been understood since ancient times: peo-ple have set aside special places and times reserved forreligious worship. These are solemnly consecrated forsacred ceremonies, so from that moment on all otheruse of them is regarded as sacrilege. Liturgical and pro-fane use can no more coincide than sign and functionin the cultural context.

Within the walls of the sanctuary dedicated to acts ofworship, things have only their liturgical significance.As soon as the bell sounds to announce the start ofthe religious service, words and actions are withdrawnfrom their normal meaning in order to carry only theirappointed liturgical meaning. Likewise at the end of themass the faithful are dismissed and returned to normallife. ‘And each returns to his good work,’ as the RomanMissal puts it.

All peoples have always had, therefore, their holyplaces and festivals, for without sacred places and times

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communal worship is impossible. It is the only way todistinguish the forms of the things, actions and words ofthe liturgy from those of normal culture, and to ensuretheir liturgical significance.

V

THE THREE FORM-WORLDS

1. We have now formed a complete picture of all the Relationsbetween the threeform-worlds

external forms involved in our lives here on earth. Theycorrespond to the three main aspects of our existenceand can therefore be classified under three categories:natural forms, with which we are involved as materialbeings; cultural forms, with which we are involved inour intellectual existence; and liturgical forms, withwhich we are involved in our Christian life. Togetherthey comprise a single great whole, as does our own lifedespite its distinct aspects.

All artificial forms have their origin in the forms ofnature, which are created by God. The cultural andliturgical forms added to natural forms are reshap-ings, brought about by human intelligence and skill, ofthose same natural forms. Consequently there is a cer-tain resemblance between the three categories: they allstem from nature, and belong as it were to one fam-ily.

A resemblance of this sort is not an identity but ananalogy. It contains elements of both sameness and dif-ference: sameness from one viewpoint, difference fromothers. When cultural forms and manners have becomeunnatural they cannot be revived, but instead they willbe destroyed, by imitating natural forms. Likewise litur-gical forms and manners that have become too cut off

36 chapter v

from the cultural order are not restored but obliteratedby identifying them with cultural ones.

The secret of a healthy cultural and liturgical form-making is to distinguish them clearly from each otherand from natural forms, each according to its ownnature, but at the same time to make essential connec-tions between them.

2. If we want to understand the essential propertiesof liturgical forms we must set them off appropriatelyagainst the background of nature and culture, just as,within that background, cultural forms must be appro-priately delineated against the general background ofnature. Cultural forms crown the natural ones, as itwere, and spread over them the light of intellect. Litur-gical forms in turn crown the whole composed ofculture and nature, and spread over it the light offaith.

It is only a very small part of nature that we makeour own by reshaping its forms. One could describethis polishing or civilizing of natural forms as playedout within the walls of a city, for there we find naturewholly adapted to the service of human life.

In the same way, but to a still greater degree, a verysmall part of the cultural order enclosed within a cityis involved in liturgy. These liturgical forms are thenenclosed by the walls of the church building, withinwhich things surrender their cultural relevance in orderto take on their value as signs within the context of theliturgy.

the three form-worlds 37

3. The resemblance between these three distinct worlds Relationsbetween theform-typesof nature

of form must be sought in the fact that this great triadreappears at a reduced scale in each world consideredseparately.

We see in nature the inanimate earth with upon itplants and trees that live and grow yet still form asingle whole with the earth. This whole provides thebackground of the animal world with its independentlife. Animals not only grow and move, but free them-selves from the earth and move about upon it. Thuswe see the static forms of the earth as the backgroundfor the animate forms of plants and trees, and thesetogether as the background for the autonomous life ofanimals.

4. Thanks to the spirit, which was breathed into us Relationsbetween theform-typesof culture

at creation, we humans are able to build up a wholenew world of forms. We reshape natural forms in orderto adapt them to both our physical and our mentalexistence. Without that adaptation to our mind, thethings we make for our body would remain as it werelifeless. By being opened up to the intellect as expressiveforms they take on a sort of life, but a life that remainswholly bound to the service of the body, just as plantsremain rooted in the earth. Their expression is rootedin their function.

However, when we detach these expressive formsfrom their physical function and cultivate them purelyfor human communication, these artificial forms ac-quire as it were an autonomous existence, just as ani-mals do in nature. They become monumental forms,

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signs. So there is a resemblance between the triad ofcultural forms and that of natural forms: their respec-tive form-types have a corresponding relation to eachother.

5. Within liturgy too we can distinguish a lesser triadRelationsbetween the form-

types of liturgyof forms. First, we encounter signa sensibilia, externalsigns, that comprise tangible, space-occupying things:buildings, furniture, clothing, utensils. Together theseprovide a fixed background for the other liturgicalforms, just as in nature the lifeless earth provides afixed background for living plants and animals. Nextwe find in liturgy signa sensibilia that involve movement:postures and gestures, dispositions and displacements ofthe body in space. These are not only tied to space butalso to time, as they have a certain duration. They are,so to speak, animate forms which nevertheless remainwholly dependent on the fixed framework of concretethings, just as plants and trees are rooted in the earth.Lastly, there are signa sensibilia for which we use formsthat occupy no space at all and depend only on time:words and singing.

6. Like those of nature and culture, the three liturgicalform-types are interrelated. Here the fixed frameworkis provided by the church-space with its furniture andobjects. It is brought to life by the spatial dispositionsand gestures of the ceremonies, and this whole is ani-mated by spoken word and song.

The words and singing must always be consideredagainst the background of gestures and objects, just

the three form-worlds 39

as animals cannot be considered in isolation from theearth with its plants and trees. Every word, every songis therefore accompanied by gesture and posture, and islocated by its spatial disposition within the great, fixedframe of the church building and its furniture.

There is thus a direct relation between the threeform-types of liturgy: word, gesture and object. Thevestment accompanies the gesture, the gesture theword.

7. Corresponding to this relation between the forms Analogy betweenform-worldsand form-types

of the three secondary triads there is the great rela-tion between the three form-worlds of nature, cultureand liturgy. For a proper understanding of liturgicaldesign we must pay particular attention to the analogybetween the major complex of three form-worlds andthe minor complex of the three cultural form-types:functional, expressive and monumental form. Becausewe ourselves bring them into being and engage withthem in our daily lives, it is with these three form-typesthat we are most familiar. From their interconnectionswe can develop a concept of liturgical form in its rela-tion to cultural and natural form.

Liturgical form plays the same part in the majorcomplex as monumental form plays in the minor one.The signs used by culture are based on its expres-sive forms, of which they are an abbreviated reflec-tion, while these expressive forms derive in turn fromfunctional forms, which they open up to the intellect.Similarly, the whole complex of liturgical forms is basedon that of cultural forms, of which it is an abbreviated

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reflection, and the cultural form-world derives from thenatural one, of which it gives us an intelligible image.

We can therefore gain an insight into the intrinsiccharacter of the liturgical sign by comparing it with thesigns or monumental forms of culture, in the light of theanalogy between the minor triad of the cultural form-types and the major triad of the three form-worlds.

8. Although the analogical way of thinking has todayThe analogicalway of thinking become unfamiliar to us, it is fundamental to the teach-

ing of the Gospels, as is shown by the many parablesthey contain. The fathers of the church, too, constantlyemployed this mode, together with the development ofthought through logic. Without this thought pattern aliturgy entirely built upon signs is incomprehensible, forthese signs are all based on analogies.

Analogy is not just a way of arranging in an orderlyfashion the forms we engage with in our daily lives; itis an essential foundation of the structure of our veryexistence, for after all we are created in God’s imageand likeness, and that again is an analogical relation.

A very instructive and pertinent example of thisway of thinking is to be found in the creed called(after its opening word) Quicumque, and traditionally butincorrectly ascribed to St Athanasius. Together withthose of the Apostles and of Nicaea it completes thetrio of great Christian creeds.

In the second part, which deals with the Incarnation,it is said of Christ that he is: ‘Wholly God, wholly man,consisting of a rational soul and human flesh; absolutelyone, not formed by the admixture of two natures, but

the three form-worlds 41

by the unity of one person.’ This declaration is thenelucidated by the following analogy: ‘For just as therational soul and the flesh compose one man, so areGod and man one Christ.’

First the two terms of the analogy are clearly distin-guished: on one side ‘God and man’ and on the other‘rational soul and human flesh’; then they are broughttogether by the words ‘just as’ and ‘so’, and the unity ofthe one term is compared with that of the other.

9. It is precisely this analogy that we must bear inmind with respect to liturgy. It is the key to the unitybetween its external forms and what they signify andbring about. Since the liturgical order is a distillationof the cultural one, the forms of which are based onthe adaptation of natural forms to fit our physical andmental existence—body and soul—this analogy in theAthanasian creed forms as it were the final link inthe chain of analogies that ascends from the forms ofnature up to the object of our worship. Consequentlyliturgical forms remain rooted in those of nature andare nevertheless capable of signifying and realizing themysteries of our faith.

10. In the ascent from natural forms to those of liturgy, The key role ofexpressive formthe treasury of cultural forms clearly plays an interme-

diary role. As long as a culture considers itself the com-plement of nature purely in what concerns its physi-cal welfare, it only half completes its task. Care of thebody may be a matter of immediate necessity, for with-out it care of the mind would be pointless; but it is the

42 chapter v

latter that is of ultimate significance. And our spiritualwelfare demands the cultivation of expression, in orderthat forms be opened up to the world of intellect.

This cultivation of expression is in turn of immediatenecessity, however, for a culture that intends its forms tofulfil an intermediary role with respect to liturgy. With-out this particular concern for cultural expression, litur-gical form making must languish, despite its ultimatesignificance, through failure to reach the soil that nour-ishes it.

A materialist culture considers itself satisfied withpurely functional forms that nourish only the body andsenses, providing no food for the mind. The ascentto the forms of liturgy is blocked by the absence ofexpressive forms. The form making of such a cultureremains as it were dumb.

Despite the perfect guidelines and institutions for therenewal of liturgy given by the Second Vatican Council,liturgy will not flower unless oases are created in ourculture: islands in which a healthy play of culturalforms is cultivated, the only climate in which the liturgycan thrive.

VI

FUNCTIONAL FORMS

1. The form-world of liturgy is connected by analogy Completionof nature byartificial things

to the monumental forms of culture: it plays the samepart in the major complex of the form-worlds of nature,culture and liturgy as monumental form plays in theminor, cultural complex of functional, expressive andmonumental form-types. Thus by studying the genesisof the cultural sign we gain an insight into the founda-tions and structure of liturgical form.

The system of cultural signs that enables us to com-municate as mind to mind has its origins in the arte-facts that we add to the order of nature to sustainhuman life. To integrate our life into that order wemust complete both nature and our own existence byadding things to them. This we must do according tocircumstances, and on our own initiative. Without theseadditions the natural form-world is incomplete, for itincludes a species—the human race—that althoughpart of nature must itself add things to nature in orderto survive.

2. In itself, the form of our artefacts is far inferior to Pre-eminenceof artificialform making

that of created things. Artificial form is no less distinctfrom natural form than is our limited, created intellectfrom the limitless creating intellect, these being therespective foundations of the two sorts of forms.

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Nevertheless, if artificial forms are produced withinsight, they play a superior role among the forms ofnature, for they bear witness to the human intellect,which transcends all the rest of creation and is ableto make things on its own initiative. Thus the createdworld of nature contains within itself an expressiveimage of its own origin.

3. Although our making resembles creation, it is not aDependence ofhuman creativity question here of genuine creativity. Our making does

not happen ex nihilo, out of nothing, as is the case withcreation; it is always a re-making of an already existingnatural given. Therefore our artefacts have a doubleorigin: a natural and an artificial source. In them, artand nature always go hand in hand.

In this union of art and nature in one and thesame form we find expressed the relation of the wholeartificial order to the natural one, and from this relationwe can go on to form an image of the ultimate relationbetween humanity and its creator. Therefore humanintervention in the natural given can never go so farthat all trace of that given is eliminated, while on theother hand it cannot be so limited that our artefactsare barely distinguishable from nature. In the finalanalysis, it is through a well-balanced combination ofthe two aspects that we find a depiction of our relationto the creator. To that extent one can say that thiscombination is the first step towards liturgical form.If our artefacts are well formed, they carry withinthemselves the embryo of the signa sensibilia of whichthe Constitution on the Liturgy speaks.

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4. Thus we owe to our human existence all sorts of Union ofnature and artartefacts. Now, because our existence is played out on

three distinct levels—living body, senses and intellect—we come in contact with natural things in three ways.We experience their materiality by touch, we see theirform by means of a visual image, and we gain aninsight into their nature through a clear understandingof their compositional structure. In the case of thingsthat occupy space this is first and foremost a question ofquantity, i.e., of size.

The things we ourselves make also have their mate-riality, their form and their gradations of size, but theseare all severely limited because of the limitation of ourhuman nature. From the unlimited matter of nature weremove only a limited part for our artefacts, and wereshape the arbitrary form of this limited piece of mat-ter into one of the limited range of forms we can readilydistinguish. Finally, we can fix the dimensions of theseforms only by using a limited range of measures thatcorresponds to our rational insight.

5. Walls are built of stone extracted from the unlimited Limited material,form and sizemass of the earth, and with these walls a limited part

of the limitless space of nature is separated off to makeit habitable for us. Threads are spun from wool or flax,and from these threads rectangular lengths of cloth arewoven with which to drape the body. And dishes andpots are baked from a little clay in order to containthe small amount of food that we extract from nature.Houses, clothes and utensils are the first things we haveto make in order to maintain our existence in nature.

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Thus in place of the limitless matter of nature wehave a small portion of matter; in place of the limitlessrange of natural forms, the small range of our artificialforms; and in place of the fathomless extent of thenatural order, which stretches from the infinitely smallto the infinitely large, we have a limited range ofmeasures that we can relate to each other.

6. This human limitation does not go so far, however,The measure ofthis limitation that we are restricted to a single choice, like a bird that

can make only one form of nest. Our limitation liesmidway between the endless variety found in natureas a whole and the predetermined way of life of itsseparate species. We always have the choice betweena certain number of possibilities that our intellect isable to comprehend, and which it can derive from theunlimited range of natural possibilities. With the eighttones of the octave we build up our musical repertoire,and from the continuous series of colours that mergeimperceptibly into each other we distil the six coloursthat we can give names to.

The human wisdom of every civilization has applieditself to these limited ranges of forms, colours andmeasures. They must be neither too extensive for thehuman mind to grasp easily, nor so limited that theydo not offer the necessary scope for our adaptation tonature in differing circumstances.

7. The spatial delimitation of our houses offers twoBasic formsof the house principal forms, which we classify as longitudinal and

centralized building. They arise from the fact that flat

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walls cannot divide off a three-dimensional space in asingle step. When for instance we wrap an object inpaper we wrap it first in two of its dimensions andthen close it in the third. Now, since the vertical direc-tion of space differs markedly from the two horizontalones, the two principal types of spatial separation aredetermined by the order in which the three dimensionsare delimited. In centralized building the length andbreadth are delimited first and then the roof is added,whereas in longitudinal building the length and heightare first defined, after which the two ends are closedoff.

The two types are already clearly distinct in the caseof primitive tents: there is the round tent with a centraltent-pole, and the oblong tent with a pole at each end.Both types are also found among our old farmhouses:a square type with pyramid roof in West Friesland, andan oblong type in the eastern parts of The Netherlands.In church building we find the central type with acupola mainly in eastern Europe, and the longitudinalform with an apse in the west.

From these two principal building types a limitedfamily of forms is developed, all of which can be tracedback to one or other of the two basic forms.

8. We find the same thing in clothing. Here too there Basic formsof clothingare two principal forms to which all other forms can be

reduced: the vest or tunic form and the cape or mantle.The Romans spoke of tunica and of toga or penula, theGreeks of chiton and himation. In all great civilizations werediscover the same two basic types.

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Just as, in the case of the centralized building formthe two horizontal dimensions are first defined andthen the space enclosed from above, so with the capethe length of cloth is arranged around the body andthen closed at the neck. In this kind of clothing thearms are contained within the garment. The tunic, incontrast, covers first the front and back of the body,continuing over the shoulders, and is later closed at thesides. In this type the arms are not contained within thegarment and must eventually be provided with separatesleeves.

A limited family of possibilities is again developed,all more or less directly connected with one or other ofthese two principal types.

9. Lastly, we have two basic forms of vessel: dish andBasic formsof vessel cup. The dish starts out from a flat disk, the edge

of which is slightly raised to contain the food. Thecup begins instead with the sides of the vessel and isthen closed at the bottom. From these two principalforms, too, a limited range of utensils has developed,characteristic for every civilization. Each variant has itsown name, but they are all more or less related to thetwo main forms.

10. We do not add things to nature only to maintainBasic forms offigurative art our physical existence. The mind too needs the support

of such artefacts. They must sustain our mental activityby removing the obstacles caused by its bondage tomatter. Although the mind as such is free from spaceand time, it is nevertheless to some extent subject to

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the here and now within which we physically exist.It liberates itself from time and space in so far as itcan represent to itself things that are elsewhere, andremember things that existed or occurred in the past.But because the mind is used to informing itself bydirect sensory perception it must provide itself withrepresentations of these things in order to underpinmemory and imagination with actual information. Thefunctional basis of our figurative art lies in this need tosupport the senses in fulfilling their task at the serviceof the life of the mind. Since these representationsmake use of material derived from nature, here too artand nature are combined in one object, with the sameconsequences as apply to the other artificial things weadd to nature.

Here again two basic forms immediately presentthemselves: painting and sculpture. The first consistsof coloured figures against the flat ground of walls orpanels; the second arises from the shaping of three-dimensional materials like wood or stone. Relief sculp-ture, comprising forms raised or hollowed out from asurface, combines the two processes.

VII

EXPRESSIVE FORMS

1. We must complete nature with our artefacts and by Function

so doing give our human existence the support it needs.A part of the space and matter of nature is adapted toour existence by certain defined modifications: this isthe work of our hands, guided by our senses under thedirection of the intellect. Alongside the unlimited spaceand matter of nature with their limitless ranges of formsand sizes there comes into being a new play of formswith limited matter and space and limited ranges offorms and sizes, the foundation of which is our limitedintellect. Inasmuch as these forms supplement nature,we have called them functional forms.

2. However, we know that our form making is not com- Expression

pletely determined by this supplementation of nature,because our intellect, on which it is based, must find inthis same form making the information it needs for itsown development.

This mysterious cycle, in which the intellect developsitself through the making of things, must be seen as thegreat image of creation itself, in which the creator isglorified by everything that he has created. In the wordsthat conclude the work of each day of the creation, wefind expressed the completion of this great cycle: ‘AndGod saw that it was good’. And at the end of the week

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it is even written: ‘God saw all that he had made, andit was very good’. Just as God’s creatures start out fromand return to his unlimited creating intelligence, so ourartefacts start out from our limited intellectual facultiesand return to them in order to develop and sustainthem.

But as with every analogy it is here a question of bothsameness and difference, and we must recognize a pro-found distinction underlying this comparison. Whereasthe cycle of creation begins with the creator, the cycleof our making begins not with our intellect but withcreated nature, from which we must derive the limitedmaterial and limited ranges of forms and sizes. Ourintellect is activated initially by the perception of natu-ral things; later, the stimulus comes also from the thingsthat we ourselves make. The forms of nature are alwaysthe objective starting point of our making, which herelocks onto the creation of nature in order to supplementand complete it.

Thus the ascending and descending movement be-tween our intellect and our artefacts begins with theartefacts and not with the intellect. That is why ourmaking must always develop by trial and error. Whatanimals can achieve instantly and perfectly thanks totheir instinct, we must learn in the process of doing.The last nest built by a bird is not better than thefirst. But we must learn how to make from the thingsthat we make: the process is activated from below. Ourbreathing begins at birth with an inhalation and endsat death with an exhalation; in the same way, we mustconsider the influence of the form of our artefacts

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on the intellect to be the life-giving movement. Thisinfluence is the expressive power of form, which mustbe grafted onto the functionality of the artefact.

3. Nowadays we are mistakenly inclined to lay the False expression

stress on a so-called expression that comes from theindividual feeling of the maker, and for which the formof the artefact is only the medium.

Because our artefacts must be brought into being bytrial and error, they cannot all achieve an equal per-fection. As individuals, we all leave traces in our workof the greater or lesser development of our skill. Themore highly our skill is developed, the more universalthe forms of our artefacts will appear, and the fewertraces will survive in them of the individual maker.

Skill in making develops principally through the caregiven to an objective expression that proceeds from thework itself. When this objective expression is lacking,design remains stuck at the level of functionality, whichis dependent on material, technique and use. As a resultof these temporary and fluctuating influences the formsare naturally prey to subjective forces, the consequencesof which are then esteemed as the personal expressionof the maker.

However, this is quite contrary to the opinion of allgreat civilizations, which have always held in esteem theobjective expression that proceeds from the artefactsthemselves. We find an echo of this in the wise taleof the Chinese king who, abdicating his throne to hisson, exhorts him to cultivate good building and goodsinging throughout the kingdom. For, so the story goes,

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if space and time are well ordered, the mood of thepeople will also be orderly and tranquil and there willbe no revolution. St Benedict too teaches us in thenineteenth chapter of his Rule that in the choir onemust sing in such a way ‘that our mind is in harmonywith our voice’, and not the converse, as we now tendto assume.

So we must be thoroughly aware of the conditionunder which our mental faculties can operate: theycan only develop by means of material things that areperceived by the senses.

4. The fact that our making begins with the observa-Expression atthe material level tion of material things, and first of all the observation

of natural things, has consequences for all levels of ourmaking: that of matter, which corresponds to our mate-rial existence; that of form, which corresponds to oursensory faculties; and that of size, which corresponds toour intellect.

At all these levels, our making takes place against thebackground of a natural given, and this relationshipcan continue in every further determination. Whenwe build a house we separate off an inside space bymeans of solid walls, and this space is set off against thebackground of the outside space of nature. If we wantto further subdivide the interior space we can in turnseparate off within it more intimate spaces, and we cando so in such a way that the primary relation of theinside with respect to the natural outside is repeated ina certain sense within the house. We say for instancethat we go out of the room into the corridor; thus the

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corridor is an outside with respect to the room, just asnature is an outside for the whole house.

The same applies to clothing, which is set off againstthe background of the natural form of the body. Thisfirst relation is repeated within the clothing itself, ifwe allow an over-garment to be set off against anundergarment as ground. And we see the same evenwith utensils. The vessel serves to hold food, and we canecho this primary relation to the natural given withinthe vessel itself, for instance by placing a teacup on asaucer, and then possibly these together on a tray.

5. The forms of things, which correspond to our visual Expression atthe level of formfaculties, behave in the same way. We can only per-

ceive a form against a formless ground, and in the firstinstance that ground is the formless space of nature.Likewise, form cannot be separated from its naturalcomplement, and every subsequent determination ofform must refer back to this primary relation of theform to its formless ground. Therefore, in each suc-cessive articulation of the form, secondary forms mustagain stand out against a relative formlessness. Thatwhich was form with respect to the natural ground nowin its turn becomes the ground for a new determinationof form.

We find a typical example of this in the Scottishtartan, the chequered woollen plaid originally worn byshepherds. This large length of cloth 180 cm wide andat least three times as long served both as clothingand as shelter from the cold. In the harsh climate thisplaid was the most important artefact the shepherds

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possessed, so it goes without saying that they tookgreat care in the weaving of the cloth to give it theexpressivity demanded by the intellect.

The characteristic of the tartan is a rectangular pat-tern that results from the combination of the alternat-ing colours of the warp and weft. But the colour andwidth of the intersecting bands are so chosen that abroad band of a given colour always appears to actas ground for a narrower band of a contrasting colour,which then seems as it were to lie upon and stand outagainst it. These upper bands serve in turn as groundfor other, still narrower ones that may be of the orig-inal background colour. This game is carried on untilthe final bands are only a few threads wide. Thus therelation of the overall form of the tartan to the natu-ral environment against which it is delineated is con-tinued and repeated on a minor scale in the tartanitself.

6. At the level of size, which corresponds to our intellec-Expression atthe level of size tual appraisal, we are always dealing, once more, with a

limitation of the original unlimited extension of nature.When a measure is regarded in this way, each part ofthat measure is seen as a limited size against the back-ground of the relative limitlessness that we attribute tothe whole measure. The part then becomes in its turna relatively unlimited ground for a new, still more lim-ited part. This can continue until an ultimate part isreached that is regarded as being no further divisible,and as such can serve as the unit. We can measure thelarger parts and the whole by bringing them into rela-

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tion to such a unit of measure, and thereby gain aninsight into their size.

In this way, therefore, the material parts, forms andsizes of our artefacts are brought into relation witheach other, each on its own level. Thus at every levelthe original relationship between art and nature—thatis, between our making and creation—is manifestedthrough secondary relations between different materi-als, different forms, different sizes, by which one mate-rial, one form or one size stands out against the back-ground of another.

7. Thus at each level it is a matter not of a single datum Correspondenceof relationsbut of a relation between two aspects of the artefact,

whereby one aspect is set off against the other in thesame way as the artefact as a whole is set off against thebackground of nature. Consequently a certain corre-spondence can exist between these respective relation-ships despite the fact that each level concerns a differ-ent quality.

Furthermore, the levels are interconnected. Everyform is borne by a material and is itself in turn thebearer of measures: it has length, breadth and height.Just as our sensory perception forms the link betweenour bodily experience and our intellectual insight, sothe perceived form is the intermediary between theexperienced material and the known quantity.

In architecture the space divided off by walls isexperienced as an inside with respect to the outsideof natural space, but at the same time perceived as aspace formed by walls. The walls are in turn perceived

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as formed masses with respect to the inside space, butat the same time as volumes delimited by planes andlines, the size of which we can assess. For this reason therelation between forms can be the same thing for ourperceptual faculties as the relations between the partsof the material datum are for our physical experience.Similarly, the relations between measures are for ourintellectual understanding what the relations betweenforms are for the eye.

8. Our interaction with things begins with physicalCompleteexpressivenessof the artefact

contact, even if merely the experience of our contiguitywith things in the same space: looking and thinkingcome next. But the making of things begins with theintellect. First the size is determined; then the form isdefined by its length, breadth and height; and finallythe limited material is bounded by the form. The tailorbegins by measuring, then cuts out the pieces of cloth,each according to its own form, and finally sews themtogether to make the garment. So design begins withmeasure, and the determination of measure penetratesas far as the material of the thing being made.

For this reason we are able by our interaction withand contemplation of artefacts, which begin preciselywith physical experience, to ascend from relation torelation until we reach the highest relation of all: therelation between sizes. In the last instance this is actu-ally the relation of those sizes to the unit of measure,the smallest indivisible whole: a relation that gives us bymeans of number an insight into the entire quantitativeorder. At the same time, through the affinity between

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the relations on the three levels, this insight touchesthe primary relation between the artefact and the natu-ral datum, to which all other relations refer back. Sothe function of the artefact—the supplementation ofnature—becomes comprehensible, and the process ofmaking returns to the making intellect. The intellect isinformed about their function by the things it makes, inorder that it can direct them accurately towards theirgoal.

9. This completion of the cycle of art gives rise also to a Our artefactsexpressive ofthe creation

parallel with the great cycle of creation, which proceedsfrom God and returns to him. Created in God’s image,human beings imitate in their making God’s creativepower. What the things of nature are with respect to theunlimited, creating intelligence, our artefacts are withrespect to our limited, created intellect.

So the design of nature, which for us is inscrutable, isreproduced in an apprehensible way in our own design,and this must be seen as the expressiveness we owe toour artefacts. They thereby correspond completely toour human material and spiritual existence, so that wetoo are able to say that they are good.

10. Because we belong to created nature and are even Pre-eminent valueof expressionits crowning point, the things we are obliged by nature

to make must also belong in nature. Without thesehuman additions nature is incomplete. Just as clothingcompletes the body, architecture completes the space ofnature. Creation awaits the work of our hands for itsfull achievement: with our work we supply what nature

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lacks. The precondition, however, is that the things wemake must be entirely human, i.e., that their functionbe matched by a corresponding expression.

In chapter XIX of his book Citadelle Antoine deSaint-Exupéry gives a clear description of this, whenhe has a prince address his architects as follows: ‘Itis upon you, therefore, that the future city depends,not for its spiritual significance, but for the face thatit will present and that will determine its expression.And I certainly agree with you that it is a matter ofhousing people happily, in order that they may enjoythe comforts of the city and not waste their efforts onuseless complications or futile expenditure. But I havealways learnt to distinguish the important from theurgent: that which is of enduring significance from thatwhich is an immediate necessity. It is certainly urgentfor a man to eat, because otherwise he ceases to exist,and that is the end of the problem. But love and themeaning of life and delight in God are more importantthan food. I take no interest in a species that pampersitself. I do not pose myself the question: shall mankindbe happy, prosperous and comfortably housed, or not?I first ask myself which man shall be prosperous, housedand happy.’

The function of our artefacts may be urgent, buttheir expression is important.

VIII

MONUMENTAL FORMS

1. In order to gain an insight into the mutual rela- Humancommunicationby way of matter

tions of the three great form-worlds of nature, cultureand liturgy, and above all to see how liturgical formsare based on cultural ones, we shall employ an analogybetween on one hand the complex of the three above-mentioned form-worlds, and on the other the complexof the three form-types within culture. Having consid-ered the first two form-types we now turn our attentionto monumental forms: the signs by which we communi-cate as mind to mind with our fellow humans. With theother form-types it was a question of contact betweenmatter and matter or mind and matter. Now it con-cerns a purely mental contact, albeit one that is realizedthrough the intervention of material forms.

2. That in order to communicate mentally with our Value of thisinterventionfellow men we must employ material, external things

is inherent in the mind’s bondage to a material body.Angels, being pure spirit, have no need of such media-tion and can communicate directly with each other asmind to mind. But we must call on the help of mate-rial things—objects, movements or sounds—to whichwe can entrust our thoughts so that others can readthem off. This process indicates the relative weakness ofour spirit.

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From the viewpoint of the material world, however,it is of great value that matter assists mind. It mustbe seen as the glory of all material creation, for bythis means the creation of visible things is broughtinto necessary relation with the creation of invisiblethings.

Although the things that allow us to communicatewith each other are only distillations, they neverthelesshave their source in the great whole that comprises thematerial creation. The earth is itself only a minute partof that whole—albeit a very important one, for it isprepared entirely for the reception of intelligent life.Of this tiny earthly whole it is again only a small partthat is used to make artefacts for the maintenance ofour physical existence, and of these artefacts we useonly a few aspects in order to open them up to theintellect: the relations between the dimensions of theforms of their material elements. Finally, as we shall see,we need only a few of these relations for our signs: forcommunication from mind to mind. Then, finally, theselast aspects of the whole material world yield fruit forthe world of the spirit.

We see something of the same kind in the plantworld. An excessive amount of seed is produced, butonly a few seeds produce roots and shoots. In the sameway, we can marvel at the profusion of material forms,of which only a few reach the world of the mind. Inorder to be able to gauge the pre-eminent value of theseforms, it is worth considering the long road that has ledup to them.

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3. We must regard expressive form, therefore, as theculmination of a long preparation of the treasury ofnatural forms for our intellectual use. The forms that Link between

the visibleand invisible

humanity surrounds itself with in a civilized societyare a condensation of the whole abundance of form innature, because they evoke in us images directly acces-sible to the intellect. Just as the light rays given off byan object come together in a camera lens, from whichthey then spread out again to project a small image, sothe expressive forms evoke in us thoughts that enableus to build up our knowledge of the universe. This isnot knowledge of phenomena, such as science strives toassemble for its functional purposes, but genuine insightinto things by which we are enabled to ascend towardsthe creator. St Paul writes about this to the Romans,when he reproaches the pagans for not having hon-oured the creator although they had knowledge of himthrough the observation of natural things: ‘His invisi-ble attributes, that is to say his everlasting power anddeity, have been visible, ever since the world began, tothe eye of reason, in the things he has made.’ Here Paulreiterates what is written in the Book of the Wisdomof Solomon: ‘For the greatness and beauty of createdthings gives us a corresponding idea of their Creator.’

The whole cultivation of our human existence isdirected towards making a connection between thevisible and invisible worlds. The expressive forms of ourartefacts are able finally to forge the decisive link in thelong chain of stages in the development of the visibleworld. The unlimited diversity of natural forms withtheir inscrutable order and harmony has given way

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to a very limited variety of forms whose interrelationsthe intellect can identify. We can measure them againsta sort of basic proportion, a primary relation to theunit of size. In the same way, we can count discretequantities by reducing them to the nine relations tothe unit by which we count up to ten: relations whichall refer back to the primary relation between one andtwo.

4. By means of this limitation of the relations betweenExpression ofculture as such sizes and forms, not only do the expressive forms bear

fruit for the mind, but also a great mutual resemblancearises between the expressive forms themselves. Certainforms are repeated like a refrain in everything wesurround ourselves with; certain resemblances occureven between word, gesture and object. The Chineseking had this general form in mind when he spoke ofbuilding well and singing well; he might have added tothese, dancing well.

Then all human beings see nature, so to speak,with the same eyes. Once a civilization has producedsuch a universal form it is itself shaped by it, becausethe unique image of nature that it evokes in everyonebrings about a great unity between people. One couldsay that this unique image is the expressive form of theculture itself.

5. This comprehensibility of external forms is a precon-Communicationthrough unity of

action and makingdition of not only the intellectual development of eachindividual but also the intellectual contact between indi-viduals.

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Our intellect allows us to lead a far more individ-ual life than animals. Their life is certainly more inde-pendent than that of plants and trees, but it is notfree from the homogeneous order of nature. Their sen-sory instinct is developed to such a degree that the gulfseparating them from the rest of nature is completelybridged over, and even their relations among them-selves are wholly determined. They are faultless linksin nature’s housekeeping, which allow the whole orga-nization of nature to run smoothly.

On account of our mental existence we form as itwere a separate universe. We lead very independentlives, with respect both to the rest of nature and toeach other. Our material integration with nature, whichour intellect permits us to bring about by makingartefacts, does not supply us instantly with a meansof contact with our fellow human beings. This too wemust ourselves provide for.

It is true that one can already speak of a certainmental communication through the foundation estab-lished by the expressive design of a highly developedcivilization. The intellect guides the members of thatcivilization identically in their actions and making, unit-ing them in one body like a flock of cranes that flieswith the same rhythm in a straight line, maintaining anequal distance between one bird and the next. This pri-mary communication by identity of action and makingis like the analogical way of thinking. It is the subsoilthat feeds our actual communication by means of themonumental forms of signs, which itself resembles thepattern of rational thought.

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6. Our intellect not only guides our doing and makingFull growth ofour intellectual

existencein the interests of our material existence; it is above alla means of reflection. It allows concepts derived fromimages perceived by the senses to fertilize one another.Detached from sensory perception, the thoughts arenow free to develop.

We need a means of sharing with others this purelymental product of our rational thought. That whichoccurs in each person’s realm of thought, in whichconcepts are brought into connection with each other,happens also on a larger scale: the members of aculture exchange ideas.

This communication with fellow human beings givesa new dimension to our individual mental life. Thederivation of concepts from the sensory perception offorms can be seen as a first dimension. Reasoningwith those concepts is a second. The exchange of thefruits of this personal reflection in the relation betweenmaster and pupil gives a third dimension to our mentalfaculty, completing its growth. We need each other’shelp to provide fully for our bodily needs, but also forthe full unfolding of our spiritual life. Here too external,material forms are necessary.

7. Human communication requires that thoughts, orig-Matrix ofmonumental

formsinally derived from material forms perceived by thesenses, be returned once more to external forms, butnow in their developed state. We must entrust ourthoughts to visually perceptible things, from whichothers can in turn read them off. Given our compos-ite nature as both mind and matter, all communication

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between minds would be ruled out if we did not havethese material signs as an intermediary.

Since it is exclusively through their expressivenessthat these external things are opened up to the world ofthe mind, it goes without saying that the communica-tion of thoughts must hark back to the expressive formof the things that we need for our physical existence. Inthis, however, the physical function for which they wereoriginally made is entirely given up. Before, the form ofa thing needed by the body was also laid open to theintellect in order to make it fully human. Now, a thingneeded by the intellect must be derived from the visibleworld.

Naturally this new function can use only those as-pects of a form from which that form derives its expres-sive power. Therefore only the quantitative relationsbetween the forms of the artefact’s material parts areimportant, and then only to the extent that, as abstractequivalents of the concrete relations between the formsand material parts, they make the material object com-prehensible. A few relations suffice to guarantee thatthe forms, stripped of functional complications, aredirected exclusively to that purpose.

8. Once this new kind of form has established the ini- Their developmentthrough consensusand institution

tial contact between people, the form can be furtherdeveloped by the consensus and institutions such con-tact makes possible. In this way our mental life becomescompletely accessible to everyone. These are the monu-mental forms of society, the signs by which we commu-nicate with one another.

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These signs employ in the first place the externalforms of material objects. Such material signs or sym-bols are located in space, and detached from our bodilyexistence. This has the advantage that they are perma-nent, and can address a whole community with a cer-tain objectivity. But precisely because they are detachedfrom our individual material existence they are lesscapable of conveying personal thoughts.

Movements of our own body—our gestures and ac-tions—are better suited to that purpose, for they arebarely detached from us. However, perceptible formsof this kind are impermanent, being acted out in timeas well as space. They lack the universality of materialsymbols and must be continually repeated in order tobe a lasting testimony.

We can best express our personal thoughts by meansof sounds, which are still more closely identified withus since we ourselves produce them. Consensus andinstitutions have ensured that this type of sign is themost developed. They constitute human language, themost flexible instrument for mutual understanding.

9. Because the word, the basis of language, is producedWriting, thegreat monument only in time and not in space, it has a very transi-

tory existence. However, human ingenuity has discov-ered how to combine the universality and permanentcharacter of material symbols with the flexible expres-sion of the word. It has managed to break down thewords of a language into vowels and consonants, andto capture them as material signs in the form of letters.The written word is therefore the ultimate monument,

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the most important monumental form of a society. Itstwo manifestations are the monumental inscription andthe book.

10. Just as we distinguish three great categories among Parallel betweenforms for mentaland physical use

the forms that serve to support our physical existence—namely houses, clothing and utensils—we must dis-tinguish three sorts of signs among the forms thatserve to support our mental communication, accord-ing to whether they are based on objects, movementsor sounds. Here the three types are monuments orinsignia, gestures or actions and words or songs.

There is even a certain resemblance between therespective categories of the two form-types, for monu-ments derive their form largely from the architectureof our houses, and gestures owe their power to theiraccompaniment by clothing; finally, on solemn occa-sions such as diplomatic conferences, words are sealedby a banquet.

IX

THE PRINCIPLE OF LITURGICAL FORM

1. We now have at our disposal the terms necessary Terms ofthe analogyfor the analogy by which the principle of liturgical

form can be established. First we distinguished thethree great form-worlds: nature, culture and liturgy. Ineach form-world we then pointed out three form-types:in nature, inanimate matter, plants and animals; inculture, functional, expressive and monumental forms;and in liturgy the forms of objects, gestures and words.The cultural form-types were then examined separatelyand in their mutual relationships. We discovered theexpressive forms to be functional forms that are spe-cially cultivated for the purpose of intellectual informa-tion, and we saw how these expressive forms must inturn be purged of the direct consequences of physicalfunctioning in order to produce the monumental formsof signs that serve as bearers of meaning in humancommunication.

2. On the basis of these interrelations between the cul- Relations betweenform-typesand betweenform-worlds

tural form-types we must now consider the analogousrelations between the three form-worlds, and bear inmind that the cultural form-world, which is intendedto supplement the natural one on behalf of a completehuman existence, ultimately evokes in us an intelligibleimage of that inscrutable natural world. Liturgical form

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then appears as a refined form of the cultural form-world, which, now stripped of its goal of supplement-ing nature, serves only to provide the signs that religionneeds in order to express and realize itself.

Just as the monumental forms of culture, derivedfrom functional and expressive forms, express andevoke thoughts by means of their sign-value, so litur-gical forms, derived in their turn from natural and cul-tural ones, express and realize our worship. The Consti-tution on the Liturgy expresses this clearly with the wordssignificatur, signified, and efficitur, brought about. It isthus a matter of transposing the relations between theform-types to those between the form-worlds.

3. Just as every cultural form begins with a form weElaborationof the analogy make ourselves, so in general every form has its source

in a natural, created form. Our artefacts are intendedto complete our human existence; natural things pointto the perfection of the creator, whose glory they pro-claim.

The completion of our human existence by thethings we make begins with the sustenance of the body.Beside this material objective, and occasioned by it,our artefacts aim, by means of a certain elaborationof their form, at the development of our mental fac-ulties. Finally, by means of a special refinement of thatform, they play a part in our communication with otherhuman beings.

By analogy, the whole visible creation aims in thefirst place at its own maintenance and completion.Through a beautiful equilibrium of natural forces the

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material elements are maintained in existence, andliving creatures, despite their transitoriness, continue tosurvive by feeding and procreation.

But the great visible universe also provides suste-nance for the human mind. Our cultural design helpsto bring within our grasp the impenetrable whole thatis the natural creation. The entire cultural order, withall its external forms, constructed by the human mind,is ultimately called into being in order that we may pen-etrate the creation and rise step by step to a knowledgeof the creator himself.

4. Once we become aware of a spiritual being whoexists not on our own level but above us, we arefaced with the problem of an entirely new form ofcommunication. This is no longer a communication ofmind with mind between created beings, but a spiritualcommunion of humanity as a whole with a SupremeBeing, its uncreated creator.

If initially the design of the cultural order was di-rected to the discovery of that Supreme Being, nowit must take on a refined form in order to provide uswith the means to communicate with that Being. Simi-larly, the expressive forms served initially to develop ourintellect, and were then, in the distilled form of signs,made into instruments for communication betweenpeople. The question of physical utility no longer arose.

Likewise, when the whole cultural order, in a distilledform, is made to serve the communication of the entirehuman race with its creator, the original goal of thatorder, to supplement nature, is completely set aside.

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Only to the extent that cultural design allows us tocomprehend the natural form-world by opening it upto our mind can it serve as a foundation for the sign-world of the liturgy, through which we communicatewith God.

5. Liturgy, therefore, does not make use of monumentalThe liturgicalform-principle forms—expressive forms that have been turned into

signs—as means of human communication. Now, theentire world of cultural forms—functional, expressiveand monumental forms—is detached from its functionof completing nature and becomes a sign. That is to say,it becomes a means for the collective communicationof people with the Supreme Being, whom they firstdiscovered through that same world of cultural formsby observation of the natural world of creation.

In the liturgy, a piece of cultivated nature is distilled as areligious sign, just as in the monument a piece of cultivatedtechnique is elevated into a cultural sign.

6. The place we occupy in the whole of creation(above all other creatures, on the same level as our fellowhumans, but below the creator himself) leads us todistinguish three sorts of communication. In nature,we communicate with purely material creatures; inculture, with our fellow humans; and in liturgy, withGod. We have discovered the forms through which thiscommunication is realized in each of the three contexts,and learnt how to characterize them by comparingthem one with another. The liturgical form-principlethat has thus come to light is the conclusion of all our

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previous reflections and serves as the touchstone for allthe forms used in liturgy.

7. The first thing that strikes us is that all the forms Consequences ofthe form-principleof liturgy serve as signs. In culture only one of the

three form-types acts as a sign, but liturgy as a wholeis a sign. The description given by Vatican II leaves usin no doubt about this. It speaks of the exercise of apriesthood in which the sanctification of humanity issignified through forms perceptible to the senses, andbrought about in a way proper to each of these signs.

So if the whole cultural order with its own sounds,movements and objects appears in liturgy as a sign, weshall find in it functional forms as well as expressiveand monumental ones. They now function no longer asadditions to the natural order; their only purpose is tosignify the salvation of humanity and the honouring ofGod, and to realize both of these by analogy with theiroriginal purposes, each in its own way.

Thus in liturgy the monumental forms of culture areno longer signs used in communication between humanminds. They are transposed into religious symbols—signs of a relation to God—and their new meaning,while resembling the original one by analogy, com-pletely replaces it.

The functional and expressive forms for their partappear in liturgy entirely freed from function and ex-pression, in order to be absorbed into the order of signs.

The distinctive characteristic of liturgical design isthus that the whole arsenal of cultural forms appearsin it in a refined state, as a religious sign.

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8. All liturgical forms are signs, but not all in theThree sorts ofsigns in the liturgy same way. One can speak of functional, expressive and

monumental signs, according to their original place inthe cultural context.

The church building is an architectonic space, butwithout any particular cultural purpose. It is simply aplace to be in, to move in and to speak in, a living roomin the most general sense of the word. It is the space weby nature require in order to locate ourselves and feelat home in the wider space of nature. Its articulationinto major and minor spaces, and the proportions offorms and measures, can thus be wholly attuned to theexpression of the building. The form of the furnitureneeded for liturgical use of the space can be limitedto its function, however. On the other hand, the altarplaced in the middle of the space must be regardedas a pure monument, a symbol of an invisible reality,a sort of label for the space. Nevertheless, all three—furniture, space and altar—share a single purpose: toserve as a sign. For that purpose they are set apart andconsecrated to religious worship.

Liturgical vestments, likewise, are the ordinary gar-ments we by nature require, but without any culturalpurpose. They serve only their original and most gen-eral purpose, to complete the body by clothing itsnakedness and accompanying it in its form, postureand movement. The articulation of the vestments intounder- and over-garments, their material and the waythey are draped and pleated on the body, can there-fore be entirely attuned to their expression. Under- andover-garments are represented by alb and chasuble.

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The amice worn under the alb must be considered afunctional datum: it corresponds to the linen wrappeddirectly around the body, such as loincloths and neck-erchiefs, which are intended as sweat-cloths rather thanclothing proper. On the other hand the stole must beseen as a monumental sign, a sign indicating the dig-nity of the wearer, like a chain of office. But amice, alb,chasuble and stole are in the liturgy all equally signs.They are worn over ordinary everyday clothing andhave only their value as signs. They are specially setapart and blessed for that purpose.

The same can be said of the altar vessels. The chalicefor the wine and the dish for the bread are objectswhose articulation and proportions are wholly attunedto the expression of their form. The paten, which isused only to catch the crumbs during the breakingof the bread, is rather more functional in character,and its form does not demand the same degree ofrefinement. But the cross that stands upon the altarmust be regarded as a pure sign, an indication of thatwhich takes place on the altar. In the liturgy, however,all these objects are signs, and to guarantee their valueas such they are set apart and consecrated to religiousworship by a blessing.

9. Thus functional forms, which occupy the lowest Special value offunctional signsplace in the range of cultural forms because they are

less cultivated for intellectual information, come in theliturgy to occupy the same level with expressive andmonumental forms. One might ask, therefore, whetherthe liturgical form-world is not characterized in partic-

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ular by the presence of signs of a purely functional ori-gin. The elevation of these humblest of cultural formsto become liturgical signs gives religious worship anallure that can only be encountered in a world that iscompletely raised above the cultural order. These formsare therefore extremely important for appreciating thepre-eminent value of liturgy.

10. Being removed from all cultural use, liturgical formsInterplay ofliturgy and culture are freed from the complications entailed by such use.

The purer and simpler these forms are, the betterthey are suited to their new function. The originalimplications of function and expression must be justsufficiently present to guarantee the special sign-valueof each object or action.

In culture, where every monumental form must bebased on the aspects from which the form derives itspower of expression, it can happen that expression iscultivated at the expense of function. Fictive elements,whose presence in monumental forms is justified, areintroduced into expressive forms under the pretext ofornament. Secondary relations, analogous to the origi-nal relationship between art and nature, then continuein the expressive form down to the most minute details.This occurs especially in cultures that are highly devel-oped intellectually. The opposite, a predominance offunctional forms, will be encountered rather when aculture is more materialistic.

A truly civilized culture, on the other hand, willprepare the ground for the pre-eminent function thatits forms will acquire in liturgy by having an exact

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balance between its functional and expressive forms. Inthe latter it will allow no false monumentality, for allthree cultural form-types must appear in the liturgy.Conversely, a perfect liturgical design will encouragethis balanced refinement of cultural forms.

X

VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE THINGS

1. Up to now, by considering the visible forms in their The whole ofvisible thingsmutual relations, we have been able to place liturgical

forms within the whole range of forms presented by thethings around us. All these forms are interrelated andmake up a single whole. The secret of the unity of thedifferent sorts of form lies in the fact that in each sortthere is something that reiterates what appears in thewhole, so that the character of the whole is continuedand revealed in the various sorts. Consequently bymeans of analogies we were also able to ascend fromthe lower to the higher: from the variety of forms andform-types up to the whole of the great form-worlds,with the form-world of liturgy as its summit.

2. A final analogy can still be added, however. For it Visible things asthe backgroundfor the invisible

is possible to integrate the three form-worlds within adeeper perspective, and gain an insight, through theirmutual relationships, into the relations between visiblethings, invisible things and the creator of both: factorcaeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.

The text of St Augustine quoted in the second chap-ter makes clear to us that human beings have some-thing in common not only with visible but also withinvisible things, with the angels: ‘We share being withthe stones, life with the plants, feeling with the animals

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and knowing with the angels.’ Thus we have a spirit incommon with the angels who are pure spirit, and likethem we are able to know God, who transcends everycreated spirit.

Therefore in this last reflection liturgical form is nolonger placed against the ground of all other visibleforms, but the whole visible form-world conceived asground for the invisible things—and both together, visi-bilia and invisibilia, in turn as ground for our knowledgeof God.

The analogy no longer compares the interrelationsof the three form-worlds to those of the cultural form-types. The relations between the form-worlds now serveas the basis for an analogy with those between visiblethings, invisible things and the creator of both. Theconclusion of the first analogy is thus the basis of thesecond.

3. If in our reflections we have always described objectsVisibility of formsat the expense oftheir background

as delineated against a ground, it is not just in orderthat each object be made clear in itself, but above allto allow our reflections to be absorbed into a greaterwhole. What in the first reflection we regarded as theobject becomes in the following reflection the back-ground for a new object. Thus we saw the expressiveforms of culture delineated against the background offunctional forms, and we then used both together asground for the monumental signs. Moreover we sawthis totality of cultural forms as delineated against theground of natural forms, and then used both form-worlds together as ground for the forms of liturgy.

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If an object is delineated against a ground, this isalways at the expense of the form of that ground. Ourperception of the form of the visible things around us isdue to the comparative formlessness of the surroundingspace, for the surface that bounds a form cannot belongto two adjacent things at the same time. The sameholds true for the lines that bound a two-dimensionalfigure drawn on a plane: if a figure is delineated againstthe surface of a form, that surface itself is seen as havingno figure. Thus a Greek vase is revealed as a form byits outline delineated against the wall as ground, butthe figures painted on the vase are delineated againstthe ground of the vase. First the form of the wall mustgive way to that of the vase, then the form of the vasegives way to the figures.

In the same way, every expressive form involves anexclusion of function, and every monumental form anexclusion of function and expression: in every sign allpractical purpose is given up and it serves only asthe bearer of a thought. Likewise the form of culturalartefacts involves an exclusion of the created form ofnatural things, and liturgical form an exclusion of both.In the liturgy it is not a matter of the completion ofnature for the sake of our human existence, but ofestablishing and expressing our relation to the creatorof nature.

4. If we now climb to a higher level and consider the Knowledge ofinvisible thingsat the expenseof the visible

world of the spirit that we share with the angels, wemust exclude the whole visible world, for it now appearsonly as a ground for the invisible. And if we want

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to ascend still higher by considering these two worldstogether as ground for our knowledge of God, this mustbe accompanied by an exclusion of everything that wecan see and know.

Just as the cultural form becomes a sign by excludingits function and expression, and as a form gets itspre-eminent value as a liturgical sign through beingdetached from nature and culture, so our knowledgeof God takes on its true ‘shape’ only when we detachit from all images and concepts, and consider bothof these only as a sort of sign for the knowledge thattranscends our capacity to know.

Dionysius corroborates this opinion in his short trea-tise on mystical theology, when he writes at the end ofthe first chapter: ‘The most divine and highest thingswe are able to perceive and understand are in a certainsense words, which express that which lies below himwho is above all things. They reveal the presence of himwho surpasses all knowledge.’ And at the end of thesecond chapter he writes: ‘We remove everything fromGod, in order to know, by unveiling it, that unknowingwhich is veiled by all that we know of things, and to seethat all-surpassing darkness which is hidden by the lightof things.’

5. Here a third movement of our spirit complementsThree movementsof the spirit the two other movements that we encountered in the

first two chapters. The first movement proceeds accord-ing to the path of reasoning: concepts are connectedwith each other, and conclusions drawn from them.The second movement turns towards external things

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and from this engagement with things rises by meansof analogies directly to the contemplation of the sim-ple truth. The third movement, however, turns awayfrom contact with visible things and also allows rea-son to rest, in order to withdraw into itself, and see theobject of knowledge delineated against the negation ofeverything that can be seen or known.

6. In our final analogy we take, as our point of compar- A final analogy

ison for the relations between the visible and invisiblethings and the creator of both, the relations that existbetween the three visible form-worlds. We must thenbear in mind that what distinguishes liturgical form isthe fact that the whole arsenal of cultural forms appearsin it as a sign of religious worship. A piece of the cul-tural order is freed from its function of supplementingnature and making it comprehensible, in order to fulfilas a whole its signifying function within the new struc-ture of the liturgy. There we meet not only with mon-umental forms, which serve as signs in culture, but alsowith functional and expressive forms. They are entirelyfreed from their cultural goal and absorbed into theorder of signs.

If we follow this line of thought and see the whole ofthe three visible form-worlds as ground for the invisiblethings and for God himself, we must arrive at theconclusion that this supreme triad constitutes a sort ofliturgy, a form of worship in which are included notonly our liturgical form-world but also both the otherform-worlds, nature and culture. The analogy can beexpressed as follows: just as in the world of liturgical

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signs the two lower form-types of culture are elevatedinto signs, so for the life of the spirit that we sharewith God and the angels the two lower form-worlds ofvisible things, that is, nature and culture, are raised tothe status of liturgy.

7. The continuation of the text of Dionysius we quotedThe visible worldone great liturgy in the second chapter provides a striking confirmation

of this: ‘A mind such as ours can rise to the immate-rial conception and contemplation proper to the celes-tial hierarchies only by allowing itself to be guidedtowards it by way of the material things that lie withinits reach. This occurs when it conceives visible beau-ties as images of the invisible beauty, fragrances per-ceived by the senses as images of the spiritual transfer-ence of knowledge, luminous objects as images of theimmaterial source of light, arguments used in religiousinstruction as images of the plenitude of divine con-templation, orders here below as images of the beau-tiful order that reigns amongst divine things, partak-ing in the holy Eucharist as an image of living incommunion with Jesus, and the same for all otherthings that are communicated to us in the form ofsigns, but to celestial beings in a supernatural man-ner.’

The examples cited here clearly come not only fromthe world of the liturgy, but also from the entire trea-sury of the visible world. For what are the visible beau-ties that point to the invisible beauty, the fragrances thatexpress the spiritual enlightenment, and the materiallight sources that depict the source of all light, but nat-

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ural forms that take on a spiritual significance? And arenot the arguments that echo the plenitude of the divinecontemplation, and the orders here below that reflectthe beautiful order reigning among the things of God,derived from human society with its relations betweenindividuals and its conceptual thinking? Finally, partak-ing in the Eucharist, which indicates our communitywith Jesus, is clearly an example taken from the form-world of liturgy.

8. By seeing the whole visible world as ground for the The Apocalypseas corroborationinvisible world of the spirit, which we share with God

and the angels, and by depriving it of every materialvalue, this visible world becomes one great liturgy inwhich heaven and earth combine to honour the creatorof both.

In the Apocalypse St John gives us an idea of thisin the seven times seven tableaux of which his book iscomposed. The tableaux are borrowed from the entirevisible world: from nature with its heavenly bodies, seas,winds and fire, its trees and animals; from culture withits civilizations, cities and wars; and from liturgy with itsaltar, choirs and white garments. Just as in our visibleliturgy everything is a sign, so for this invisible worldeverything that is visible is liturgy.

9. All this shows once more the great value of liturgical The great thoughtof St Benedictform for our material existence. The addition of our

liturgical form-world to those of nature and culturecompletes the ground for our spiritual life: we can thenread off from the interrelations of the three form-worlds

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the relations between the visible and invisible thingsand their creator.

The Second Vatican Council has therefore rightlyseen that without a reform of liturgical forms the reli-gious life of the Church cannot flower again. By begin-ning its work by composing the Constitution on the Liturgythe Council has done nothing different from what wasdone by St Benedict when he began his Rule for monkswith a clear ordering of the Opus Dei, the daily liturgy.The complete order of psalms, readings from scrip-ture and prayers, the positions and dispositions, aredescribed in detail, and are still maintained after fifteencenturies. St Benedict closes the last of the twelve chap-ters on the Opus Dei with these words: ‘Let us considerhow it is fitting for us to be in the sight of God and theangels, and so let us sing the psalms in such a way thatour mind accords with our voice.’

The upward journey from the material world to thatof the angels and of God cannot be summed up moreconcisely. We find here the natural phenomenon ofthe sound of our voice, the intellectual faculties thatmust accord with it, the liturgical framework of thepsalmody, and finally the company of angels before thecountenance of God.

10. This concludes the theory of liturgical design. FirstSummary

we distinguished the visible forms under three cate-gories: the forms of nature, the artificial forms of cul-ture and the forms proper to liturgy.

In the second, third and fourth chapters we thenanalysed each of these three sorts of forms, distinguish-

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ing three subordinate form-types within each category.In the fifth chapter we combined all these distinct formsinto a single tableau.

In the sixth, seventh and eighth chapters we thendealt separately with the three form-types of culture—the functional, expressive and monumental forms—inorder to be able in the ninth chapter to describe clearlythe basic principle of liturgical form.

In this tenth chapter, finally, we have confronted thevisible forms of the things that surround us in the world,of which the liturgical forms are the most important,with the world of invisible things and of God himself,to which we belong through our spirit. By forming theground for this invisible world, the whole visible worldpresents itself as one great liturgy.