Keep Ringin’ Those Bells!

Two years ago, I wrote an essay, “C’mon, Ring Those Bells!,” in response to the decision of an Italian bishop to limit how much churches could ring bells due to complaints about “noise pollution.” I argued that bells are aural sacramentals: they make present a reminder of God through our ears.

That piece was among the most popular that month, which doesn’t surprise me because people cling to traditions like bells (and nostalgically lament their disappearance).  

We have another bell controversy.

The Tablet, which calls itself an almost 200-year-old “Catholic weekly journal” in Britain, published a column about altar servers, which elicited a letter to the editor from an Australian reader. The Aussie was bothered by the fact that altar servers still ring bells at Mass, usually at the epiclesis and consecration. Admitting that the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (no. 150) allows for the ringing of a bell at those moments (“if appropriate,” says the GIRM), our correspondent argues it is never appropriate.  

Why? Because bells, he argues, are a vestige of the bad old pre-1969 Mass, where everything was hidden from the People of God in a dead language. But now that this is no longer the case and Vatican II established the norm of “conscious and active participation” in the liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 14), bell ringing, he opines, is only necessary for those not engaged in “conscious and active participation” in Mass; those who are don’t need them.

Keeping bells around the altar is not, however, something harmless or indifferent. No, locking up the bells says, “we want to be a Vatican II parish/diocese/Church.”

My responses:

1. If the GIRM allows for bells, the matter should be settled.
2. The use of bells does no harm.
3. Going back to my “aural sacramental” comment, “full, conscious, and active participation” involves the whole person, including his ears. People come to “know” not just by the communication of concepts—the words of the liturgy—but by the total engagement of the person in all his senses. Incense is first and foremost offered to God, but its fragrance and rareness (where else do most people encounter incense?) is an olfactory signal of His Presence. There’s a reason the old Rite for Anointing of the Sick (may I mention what was ecclesiastical practice prior to 1972?) used to provide for anointings of each of the senses (i.e., eyes, ears, nose, hands, feet). I’d argue that implied “full” participation of the whole person (for the same reason that the resurrection of the body is “full participation” of the whole person in his eternal destiny).
4. I wonder if there’s an ulterior motive here: by hiding the bells, are we putting another nail in the coffin of ad orientem rather than versus populum?  

Frankly, this struck me as another one of those “spirit of Vatican II” hijackings that in fact find no positive foundation in the Conciliar texts and run contrary to subsequent ecclesiastical discipline (including the GIRM, arguably written to implement the Council). It also struck me as consistent with the usual rigid ideological callowness of that approach.  

Man is not simply a thinking machine, a brain in a body, “consciously” participating only through his consciousness. He participates as a whole person, not a Cartesian mind. Bells do not detract from his participation; they, in fact, reinforce it.

I also remember in the bad old pre-Vatican II days that people used to be more conscious of what they considered the sin of becoming distracted or inattentive during prayer. Note I said “prayer,” not explicitly the Mass. To the best of my knowledge, the conclusion of the Council did not miraculously immunize Catholics—even serious ones—from the occasional thing called “wandering minds.” So, in fact, wouldn’t the bell actually foster the “active and conscious participation” of the faithful at the key moments of the liturgy in the rare and utterly not to be expected instance that his mind wanders?

Am I being somewhat brutal? Yes. Because liturgy is not disconnected from its tradition and proper worship was not discovered only in our lifetimes. The same issue of The Tablet carried another Australian’s letter complaining that the enhanced Sunday lectionary should be reformed, specifically by getting rid of the First and Second Readings (because they are “instantly forgettable” and so time-bound) and instead “complement” the Gospel with contemporary readings (he suggests Sr. Joan Chittister and Richard Rohr).  

In all my years, I only saw that once: 40 years ago, out of curiosity, I attended a Sunday service at a Unitarian church in Manhattan. There were three readings. The Gospel, rather than having pride of place, was omitted. We read St. Paul, U.N. Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjöld, and some significant poet whose name I forgot.  

So, yes, keep ringing those bells—at the altar and in the steeple! They are part of our liturgical tradition, part of who we are as sensory creatures fully participating in the Mass, and part of the aural sacramental tradition.