The remedy for the contagion of modernism

I’d like to propose Senz’s Law, which states: as any discussion on Catholic Twitter proceeds, the likelihood of the charge of “modernism” appearing approaches 100%. It is an epithet the use of which appears to be inversely proportional to its intelligibility–that is, the more that people use it, the less it seems they understand what it actually means.

What is modernism, and why is it so dangerous? Though one might not suspect so at first glance, the answer to that question lies at the heart of a new book from Pauline. In Mysterion: The Revelatory Power of the Sacramental Worldview, Fr. Harrison Ayre explains how the “sacramental worldview” is central to the Catholic faith, and is the remedy for the contagion of modernism. Fr. Ayre’s book not only explains what modernism actually is, but also how we can avoid it and embrace the fullness of the faith.

Generally, when the charge of “modernism” is levied on the internet, it means something like “denies Church teaching” or “eschews tradition.” So, confusingly, the term might be applied both to someone who questions biblical inerrancy and someone who dislikes the use of incense in Mass. Often it seems to be used in an aesthetic sense, e.g. “That song is modernist, we should use the classic hymns instead.” One could be forgiven for thinking modernism was an architectural style. 

Yet Fr. Ayre gives us the proper definition of the term, simply and clearly: modernism is “the denial of mediation”—specifically, of God’ mediation of Himself to His creation. Not only that, “mediation means that God is able to communicate with creation through his creation.” This is where we begin to see both why Pope St. Pius X called modernism “the synthesis of all heresies,” and why Fr. Ayre says that sacramentality is the key to opposing this error.

Fr. Ayre lists the implications of modernism: “if God and the world cannot interact, then the universe could not have been created by God,” the human soul could not be created or implanted by God, Scripture is merely a human composition, the prophets could not foretell the coming of the Messiah, and “Jesus would only be a man and not also God.”  In short, “Modernism would say that the Scriptures are not inspired, the Church is not divinely instituted, and the sacraments are symbols at best.”

To put it most succinctly, “If modernism is true, then Christianity is false.”

Modernism attacks the central thesis of Christianity, which is that in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, God became man. The Incarnation is thus the starting point for defending the faith against modernism. When we affirm that the Son of God truly took to Himself a human nature, we see that “in Jesus Christ time and eternity come together.” This means that Jesus’s death and resurrection are not just past events, but present to us now. If they were not, they could not be salvific for us. It also means that “the events of Jesus’ life are now eternally available to the Christian through the life of the Church.”

In Christ, God really became man, really died, really rose, and really saved us, and we really receive that salvation and become incorporated into Christ. This is not a mere sentiment or pleasant idea. God has truly acted in the world, and continues to. To deny this is to carve an unbridgeable chasm between God and man.

This theme comes through clearly and concretely in the section on the liturgical life of the Church. Fr. Ayre writes that “The Mass is the lens through which the sacramental worldview becomes clear.” It is all too tempting for us to see the feasts and seasons and the practices associated with them—fasting and feasting, colors and so forth—as sentimental expressions of a vague belief—that is, in a modernist way. Fr. Ayre lays out for the reader how in the liturgy God mediates to us Himself, His grace and His goodness, through the created order. Ordinary Time reminds us that the cycles of day and night, weeks and seasons, reflect God’s goodness, and that He is present to us in them. The high feast days, in their liturgical texts, make clear that we do not only recall with warm feeling the events of salvation history, but that, through the Church’s prayer, they are made present here and now. 

Fr. Ayre also notes how this subjectivism seeps into our approach to the Mass. The closing of churches during parts of the pandemic helped many to realize their love of the sacraments. Yet the desperation expressed by many sometimes betrayed an individualistic attitude: I come to Mass so I can get the graces of the sacrament. We miss out on the communal aspect of our worship. “When we go to Mass, then, we do not go so much to worship on our own behalf as to be lifted up and participate in Christ’s worship.” We do not worship God individually, but corporately: in Christ and with each other. The whole Church offers and is offered at each Mass. While our physical presence at Mass is a more direct means of participation, grace is infused into the whole body with every celebration of the Mass. 

The Mass is the preeminent place of encounter between God and man, where God mediates Himself to us as He does nowhere else. The Eucharist is “the means by which God offers himself to the whole Church in so total a fashion that he dwells within each of us deeply and intimately in body and soul and draws us into a deeper communion with the whole body of Christ.”

The sacraments show us that God reaches us through concrete action. But the contact runs both ways: our physical actions communicate and effect deeper spiritual realities. Our embodied actions determine our moral status. Our postures in Mass show forth and communicate our interior reverence. Modernism denies that our actions could have any consequence to our moral character (“Why would God care whether we do X?”) yet the sacramental worldview reminds us that our love for God is communicated precisely through our works.

As Fr. Ayre succinctly puts it: “When we sin, we do hurt our relationship with God.” Yet God works to heal us, through His death and resurrection mediated to us through the sacraments–again, not in a sentimental way based solely on feeling, but as a real effect of grace in our souls.

One might think that the one place sentimentalism could not be avoided is personal prayer. What could be more individualistic than one’s own prayer life?

Yet this also betrays a misunderstanding. The life of prayer, as Fr. Ayre says, is not about self-actualization, or what we “get out of it,” but about “a relationship of love.” Rather than seeking a system of prayer that produces measurable results, we ought to seek the God who fulfills us, even when we don’t “feel” it. Prayer is “sharing in Jesus’ deep Union with the Father.” Spoken prayers, lectio divina, and other forms of “embodied prayer” help draw us into the deepest form of prayer, contemplation. Thus, Christian contemplation is “not an escape into pure spiritualism,” but “a very intimate way in which God uses the stuff of creation—in this case, our very bodies—in order to draw us into encounter with him.”

To borrow a phrase from another book (much less valuable than this one), Christ Himself is the sacrament of God. Jesus’ humanity is the visible means through which we come to encounter the invisible God. Every Christological heresy involved some form of denying that the human and divine are both truly and fully present in Christ—a denial that God could be mediated to us through anything physical. It was no hyperbole that caused Pope Pius X to call modernism “the synthesis of all heresies.”

Modernism says we cannot really come into contact with God. The sacramental worldview is the antidote to this spiritually poisonous thinking. Fr. Ayre’s book ably lays out for us both the diagnosis and the cure. 

Mysterion: The Revelatory Power of the Sacramental Worldview
Fr. Harrison Ayre
Pauline Books & Media, 2022
Hardcover, 192 pages