Liturgy Reflections

Some Pentecost traditions...

The feast of Pentecost will bring to a close the fifty days of our Easter season. The Easter season has really been a part of the liturgical year longer than has the season of Lent. In fact in the early Church the entire Easter season was called Pentecost, originally a Greek word that means fifty. In the earliest decades of Church history Pentecost Sunday celebrated both the ascension of Jesus into heaven and the gift of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Thus the church historian Eusebius reports that the emperor Constantine died on Pentecost Sunday in the year 337, and that this day, which sealed the seven weeks of Easter, was also the day Christ ascended into heaven, and when the Holy Spirit came upon us. Undoubtedly Pentecost borrowed some elements from the Jewish Pentecost, sometimes called the Feast of Weeks. This was a period of seven weeks that followed the celebration of the Passover. Originally a harvest festival, this Jewish Pentecost later came to commemorate the giving of the law to Moses on Mt. Sinai.

 

Some parishes have begun the tradition of encouraging people to wear red clothing on Pentecost, since red is the liturgical color of the day. This reflects the old custom of decorating homes and churches with colorful flowers on this day. In Poland, for example, and among the Ukrainians, Pentecost is sometimes called the “Green Holiday,” and in Germany the “Flower Feast.” In some Latin countries there is the term “Pascha Rosatum,” Latin words that mean “Feast of Roses.” And in Italy there is the name “Pascua Rossa,” meaning “Red Pasch,” inspired by the red vestments worn on Pentecost.

 Another traditional and familiar symbol of Pentecost and the Holy Spirit is the dove. This tradition is inspired by the gospel accounts of Christ’s baptism, telling us that “when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.” Fire is certainly the other familiar Pentecost symbol, inspired by the report from the Acts of the Apostles that on the day of Pentecost the disciples were gathered together when “suddenly from up in the sky there came a noise like a strong, driving wind which was heard all through the house where they were seated. Tongues as of fire appeared which parted and came to rest on each of them. All were filled with the Holy Spirit.”

 Medieval Christians liked to dramatize the Pentecost symbols of the dove and flames of fire. Historical accounts tell us, for example, that in France, when the priest intoned the words “Come, Holy Ghost,” trumpets would blow, signifying the violent wind of which the scriptures speak. In other countries choirboys would hiss, hum, make odd noises with wind instruments, and rattle their benches. Then from a hole in the wall above, called “The Holy Ghost Hole,” a great swinging disk with a beautiful image of a dove would descend, and remain suspended above the middle of the church. From the same opening in the wall would follow a shower of flowers, representing the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and water symbolizing baptism. In the thirteenth century, French cathedrals would release white pigeons inside the buildings, and drop roses from the Holy Ghost Hole. Some towns in central Europe even dropped pieces of burning straw, representing the flaming tongues of Pentecost. This custom eventually found disfavor, as more and more churches and worshipers caught fire, spiritually and literally. 

Reviewing the rites of Holy Week...

While so much of the renewal of the liturgy happened in the days of Popes John XXIII and Paul VI, the renewal of the liturgies of Holy Week and Easter happened prior to the Second Vatican Council. The rites were revised and restored from 1951 to 1955 under Pope Pius XII. In 1988, the Vatican’s Congregation for Divine Worship issued a letter reflecting on how the Holy Week rites have been celebrated since their revisions, and offering many insights that are helpful for planning the celebrations so that the liturgies of those days are celebrated well. Here are a few of the letter’s major concerns.

The letter points out that Holy Week begins on Palm Sunday. On this day, before the Mass with the largest attendance (even if it is on the preceding Saturday evening), there is a procession of all the people, led by the priest and ministers. The procession begins in a place distinct from the church, and all participants carry palm or other branches. Later in the week, the Easter Triduum, the sacred three days, begins with the evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday, and ends on Easter Sunday evening. By a long tradition, Christians have fasted on Good Friday, and fasting is also highly recommended on Holy Saturday.

                                                                                                                                                     

An unusual element in the Mass of the Lord’s Supper is the washing of feet, representing the charity and service of Christ. The letter does not deal with current issues surrounding the washing of feet, but clearly the rite of washing feet is meant to recall, only in a very brief and simple way, what Jesus did at the Last Supper. The norms nowhere suggest that the simple and brief rite be made more complex and prolonged by inviting everyone present in the assembly to wash one another’s feet. It is now customary in most places for the priest to wash the feet of both men and women. In 1987 the U.S. Bishops’ Committee on the Liturgy acknowledged that this developing custom is “an understandable way” to express in the liturgy that the Lord’s command to charity and service is addressed to all disciples, not just to male disciples. Following the evening Mass the eucharist in the tabernacle is adored solemnly in a part of the church or in a chapel suitably decorated, but this solemn adoration does not continue past midnight, for then the day of the Lord’s passion begins. The Blessed Sacrament is never exposed in a monstrance or in any other visible way during this evening adoration.                                                                                                                                                                                             The liturgy of Good Friday includes many special general intercessions, which should not be shortened or replaced, but “should follow the wording and form handed down by ancient tradition.” During the beautiful and powerful ritual of the adoration of the cross, only one cross is to be used. Multiplying crosses for convenience has no place in this liturgy. As the letter explains, multiplying things serves only to water down the full symbolism of the rite. It is for this same reason that no liturgy would ever use two gospel books, or two tabernacles, or two pulpits.

                                                                                                                                                     The letter has unusually tough language about when the Easter Vigil liturgy should begin. Simply stated, it should begin after it gets dark outside, with no exceptions. The beginning of the Vigil is, after all, a night service, requiring darkness to make sense of the Easter fire and the illumination of the darkened church with flames from the Easter Candle. Darkness happens about an hour after sunset. The Easter Candle itself should be new each year, and should obviously be a real candle. In addition, recent revisions of the norms explain that the ritual for preparing and blessing the candle before it is lighted is no longer optional.

Finding the Meaning of Lent

How does one discover the meaning of Lent? The parish bulletin may offer a description of the Lenten season, or we may hear a description offered by a church leader or teacher. But Lent, like every other liturgical season, has many layers of meanings, and so brief descriptions of Lent will always be inadequate and incomplete descriptions. Even the official Catechism of the Catholic Church, which presents only a scanty description of the Church’s liturgical seasons, barely acknowledges Lent’s existence.

The Church’s official norms for the liturgical year bring some focused precision to Lent’s meaning: “Lent is a preparation for the celebration of Easter. For the Lenten liturgy disposes both catechumens and the faithful to celebrate the paschal mystery: catechumens, through the several stages of Christian initiation; the faithful, through reminders of their own baptism and through penitential practices.” This description is concrete and to the point: Lent is about preparing to enter into the paschal mystery - the dying and rising of Jesus - which is celebrated most solemnly and fully on the great feast of Easter. Catechumens are preparing for baptism and the accompanying promises. Those who are baptized are preparing to renew those promises once again. Lent is a penitential season, for penitential practices help us to acknowledge our sinfulness and our need for ongoing conversion.

Lent means even more, and to discover the full meaning of this season one must go to the original source, which are the liturgical texts themselves. It is the various prayers and texts of Lent, and the way they are celebrated, that tell us exactly what Lent means. This follows from an ancient liturgical principle that states that the way we worship is the truest expression of what we believe. In other words, if you want to know what a group of people believe, then watch closely how they worship, what they say and do when they pray together. Attention to how the liturgy is celebrated not only tells us what we, the Church, believe, but also nourishes and shapes our own personal spirituality.

Examples of the connection between liturgy and faith abound. An assembly of Lenten worshipers that appears to be gloomy while celebrating a liturgy that seems to be dull and lifeless has not noticed that the liturgical texts call Lent “a joyful season.” A community that places strong emphasis on the cross during the weeks of Lent has not noticed that the liturgical texts and readings do not really support that emphasis. Deliberate and prayerful focus on the cross of Christ comes at the end of Lent, with Holy Week. A parish whose Lenten liturgies are rich with overtones of Christian initiation understand that the Church firmly believes that Lent has to do with baptism and its implications. A parish that absconds with holy water and empties its baptismal font during Lent is also making a strong symbolic message, but it would be a message that is not supported by either the eucharistic liturgy or the initiation liturgies that are proper to the Lenten season.

One way to approach the liturgy, then, is to see it as an expression of our belief as a church. Participating fully and consciously in the liturgy means to listen carefully to the words of the prayers, songs and scriptural readings as well as to be carefully aware of the various liturgical actions and gestures, for these elements are expressions of what we believe. They make up the original catechism of our faith.

The Centrality of the Paschal Mystery

The paschal mystery is at the very heart of Catholic Christian life, liturgy and spirituality. The word “paschal” is from a Greek or Hebrew word that means “passover,” while the word mystery comes from a Greek word meaning a “secret reality” or a “rite.” The paschal mystery refers to the mystery of Christ’s “passing over” to the Father, while at the same time drawing all humankind and all of history with him. Thus all creation is transformed. Christ does this, of course, through all of the events of his passion, death, resurrection, ascension, and the pouring out of the gift of the holy Spirit.

Clearly the paschal mystery finds its most solemn expression in the liturgies of Holy Week and Easter, but the reality of the paschal mystery impacts us at every moment, and so every liturgical act celebrates the paschal mystery - the mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus and our incorporation into that mystery. So the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy teaches, “By baptism all are plunged into the paschal mystery of Christ: they die with him, are buried with him, and rise with him; they receive the spirit of adoption as children ‘in which we cry: Abba, Father,’ and thus become true adorers whom the Father seeks.... From that time (of Jesus) onward the Church has never failed to come together to celebrate the paschal mystery.”

The paschal mystery means that there can be no light without darkness, no resurrection without the cross. This is why Jesus tells us that we must take up crosses daily if we we want to be his disciples, but at the same time he offers us the assurance that his yoke is easy and his burden light. This passage or passing over is remembered and expressed in the yearly Jewish Passover, commemorating the saving of the Israelites by their passage though the deadly waters of the Red Sea into freedom. It is commemorated and experienced by Christians today as they pass through the waters of baptism into a new identity as adopted children of God, alive in Christ and saved from the ravages of sin and death.

All the liturgies of the Church enjoy this built-in theme - the mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus. And part of the good news, the “gospel” about this mystery, is that it is not something we have to wait for, but something that is already happening! As the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World repeats for us, “Christ, freeing us from death by his own death, in rising to life has already won that victory.” Because of the death and resurrection of Jesus, sin and death and the tragedies of our human experience can never be victorious. Rather life and light will win out in the end.

In this regard, some liturgical experts suggest that on Good Friday of Holy Week, a day when Mass is never celebrated, people should not even be given Communion, even though the liturgy of Good Friday includes the distribution of Holy Communion. I would argue that people always have the option of receiving Communion, and that this option should never be denied them. Good Friday, even with the somber tones of its liturgy, is not simply a day of mourning over the death of Jesus, but is, like every other liturgical day, a celebration and proclamation of his glorious resurrection. What better way to celebrate and proclaim the reality of the paschal mystery on this day then to receive the sacramental presence of the risen Lord in Holy Communion?

Comments on a photo...

 

What would constructive comments on this photo look like? Perhaps simple questions would be the proper response to such an image, questions like the following: How is this costume, chosen by a very high Vatican official, a source of encouragement for returning Catholics? Is it possible that such clothing could offer some remedy to the serious bleeding away of membership in the Catholic church? What positive things does it have to say to the growing number of Catholics, especially our young people (anyone under 50), who find the institutional church increasingly irrelevant? 

Might this flamboyant clothing partly explain why countless Christians now claim to be spiritual but want nothing to do with organized religion? Could this expensive finery help somehow to restore the public’s current suspicions about Roman Catholic clergy, and the bishops’ nearly extinct credibility? And at the risk of dragging the gospel into this, how does dressing in this fashion help to unfold the meaning of gospel simplicity? Finally, how on earth does this square with Matthew 23, where Jesus warns about leaders wearing religious paraphernalia in order to be noticed. He said, simply, “Don't do what they do.”

The good news of the Christmas gospel...

We are surely aware that our Catholic Church has suffered horrible scandal in recent years. We are still reeling from that scandal, and we are all shamed by a history of silence and denial as abusive clergy have left all kinds of victims in their wake. This is certainly not the only scandal for which the Church has been responsible in the ages of history, and perhaps not even the worst. We have seen the human and sinful side of the Church, the part that is always in need of change and reform, and it is an ugly sight. It is a darkness that can blur the other side of the Church, its divine side. Its ugliness has caused the faith of many to be shaken or even destroyed. Others have lost faith in human nature, feeling it to be fundamentally corrupt. Otherwise how could such things happen?

I know of a priest who looked around at the scandalous, sinful side of the Church and came to that same, unfortunate conclusion. Human nature must be created as fundamentally sinful and corrupt, and only God’s grace can do anything about it. If some or even many people seem to be fundamentally good, it is merely a cosmetic effect. This priest’s frustration and anger would so try the patience of Church leaders (many of them exceedingly corrupt) that he was formally thrown out of the Church. This happened in the sixteenth century, and the priest was Martin Luther. It was the scandalous, sinful side of the Church, as he experienced it, that helped convince him that humanity was really a dung heap covered with snow. We are fundamentally evil, with only the external appearance of goodness.

 Fortunately along comes the Christmas season liturgies each year to remind us that this is not the way to view humanity, created, after all, in the image and likeness of God. Yes, we tarnish that image consistently. We know well enough about our torn and twisted side. We want to be good and generous and kind and courageous, but we end up being ugly, mean, stingy and cowardly. When we examine our consciences we discover ourselves to be suspicious of strangers, hostile to our neighbors, disloyal to friends, ungrateful to our parents, harsh to our spouse, unsympathetic to our children, and unable to keep the simplest of resolutions. We know that we do not behave like the worst people of human history, but we share the same human nature as they. We do, in fact, have strains and tendencies in our own personalities that can pull us in the direction of cruelty and the destruction of others. But we are nor irretrievably broken.

 The Christmas mystery tells us that human nature is fundamentally good, although it is clearly capable of going astray. The incarnation and birth of Jesus are God’s stamp of approval on the human race. Once Jesus appears among us as one of us, then humanity takes on an entirely new dignity. The liturgical text says it all as we pray to the Father: “Your eternal Word has taken upon himself our human weakness, giving our mortal nature immortal value.” This is not anything that we have deserved or merited, but it is entirely a gift. And the good news is that, because of Jesus’ entering into human nature, and because of his death and resurrection, sinfulness and darkness and death will never win out. Life and light will be victorious. We have been saved in spite of ourselves and in spite of our human weakness, and it is indeed good news. 

Our Prayers of the Faithful...

In his first letter to Timothy, Paul the Apostle offers a list of instructions on how to lead the Christian life. His first instruction has to do with the community’s responsibility to pray for others. He writes, “First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all goodness and dignity. This is right and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”

Such prayers of intercession were a part of Jewish patterns of prayer, and so naturally fit into Christian practice from the earliest years of the Church. Such prayers are a way every baptized person exercises his or her share in the priesthood of Christ. The intentions are sometimes called “general intercessions,” describing their character as extending beyond the particular needs and concerns of the local assembly, as well as indicating that they are meant to be prayers of intercession or petition, not prayers of thanksgiving. Sometimes they are called “prayers of the faithful,” harkening back to the days when the liturgy was divided into the “Mass of the Catechumens” and the “Mass of the Faithful.” Catechumens preparing for baptism were dismissed, as they are again today, after the scriptural readings and the preaching, and only the baptized (the “faithful”) were allowed to join in the prayers of intercession that followed.

 

The intercessions are supposed to follow a particular order. They are directed, first of all, to the needs of the Church, then for public authorities and the salvation of the whole world, then for those burdened by any kind of difficulty, and finally for the local community. Of course in a particular celebration, such as confirmation, marriage or a funeral, the intentions might reflect more closely the particular occasion. The priest introduces the intercessions, and concludes them with a prayer. Current directives for the celebration of the liturgy state that  “the intentions announced should be sober, be composed with a wise liberty and in a few words, and they should express the prayer of the entire community.”

The intercessions sometimes suffer from overload. Sometimes there are too many, which can make them seem burdensome. The Missal - the book containing the prayers of the liturgy - contains samples of intercessions for various occasions, but there are only four intercessions in each series, with some variation.  Perhaps simplicity is better. Sometimes too many things are crammed into the intercessions. They are not meant to be the community bulletin board. For example, lists of names of sick people should be limited to the parish bulletin. Nor should the intercessions include people’s specific personal intentions. Many parishes have petition books at the entrance to the church, where people are welcome to write their personal intentions. Then one of the prayers of the faithful during the liturgy might read, each Sunday: “For all our personal intentions, and for those written in our parish petition book...we pray to the Lord...”

Is Vatican II over?

This year we celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Second Vatican Council. Recently a member of my parish made the interesting observation that many of the liturgical changes we have experienced in the last few decades were not mandated by Vatican II. But this raises two questions: what exactly comprises Vatican II, and therefore can one really say that Vatican II is over?

In addressing liturgical issues, some people mistakenly assume that Vatican II means the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. The Constitution was, indeed, the document that formally began so much liturgical reform and renewal. The document never pretends to list all the changes that the bishops of the world had in mind at the Council, but it does present the fundamental principles of good liturgy, mandates that the rites of the Church be thoroughly studied from every perspective, and outlines the norms and procedures for the renewal of the liturgy. In other words, the Constitution is not as much a list of permissible changes as it is a blueprint for future reform.

 

 But the Constitution was just the beginning of Vatican II. Hundreds of other reform documents would follow, and are still being published today. Thus the formal meetings of Vatican II may be officially concluded, but the reform and renewal begun by those meetings still goes on. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, like the Constitution of the United States, is a living document, so in this sense Vatican II is by no means over. We continue today to make changes and adaptations to the liturgy in the spirit of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. The Constitution insists that full, conscious and active participation by all is the aim to be considered before all else in the reform and promotion of the liturgy. Some changes in the liturgy, e.g., the inclusion of the laity, and in particular women, in liturgical ministries, may not have been mentioned in the Constitution, but years later would be understood as absolutely essential if we are to take “full participation” seriously.                                                                                                                                                                         The Constitution is now nearly fifty years old, and many other documents have since supplied for the inadequacies of that original document. All of these reform documents, as well as the various customs and cultures of peoples, continue to give shape to the reforms envisioned by the Vatican II bishops. Language is one example of this gradual evolution of liturgical forms. The Constitution appeared to only reluctantly allow for Latin to be replaced by the language of the people. The reality was that the liturgy celebrated in the language of the people was so instantly and universally popular that Latin would quickly loose its venerable status, in spite of vain attempts to preserve it as a prominent part of the liturgy. Thus Pope Paul VI observed in 1965, just two years after the promulgation of the Constitution, that “The Church has sacrificed its native tongue, Latin....The Church has made the sacrifice of an age-old tradition and above all of unity in language among diverse peoples to bow to a higher universality, an outreach to all peoples.” The principal of full and conscious participation would dominate in the end.

The ambiance of the worship space...

Every church or chapel has an ambiance - an environment or distinct atmosphere that is there even before the liturgy begins. This particular environment or atmosphere can be a powerful force in allowing the ritual of the liturgy to unfold in the proper way. In their guidelines for the building and renovation of churches, the United States bishops have acknowledged the vital connection between the liturgy itself and the physical setting, including the building itself, in which the liturgy is celebrated. They write, “The church building fosters participation in the liturgy. Because liturgical actions by their nature are communal celebrations, they are celebrated with the presence and active participation of the Christian faithful whenever possible. Such participation, both internal and external, is the faithful’s right and duty by reason of their baptism. The building itself can promote or hinder the full, conscious, and active participation of the faithful.”

Many components come together to create ambiance. There is the external appearance of the building, including the cleanliness and landscaping of the yards. There is the appearance of the interior, including the design of the space and its art, furnishings and decorations. There are also the important issues of light and sound. Lighting can help create all kinds of moods, but insufficient lighting must be avoided at all cost. Good ambiance is ruined as well if worshipers must strain to hear the spoken word.

Another component of ambiance, often overlooked, is the experience of being greeted and welcomed when entering into the church. Many parishes have greeters - people who simply say hello and extend welcome to those who enter. People, particularly visitors, may never notice that there were no greeters, but they always seem to remember if there were. Greeters need little training and have no impact on the community’s budget, but their impact on the community’s prayer may prove to be priceless.

Upon entering the church it is also nice to be greeted by an obvious sense of silence and prayerfulness. When worshipers begin to arrive, everything should be prepared for the liturgy, so that people are finished arranging objects and shuffling papers. Musicians should be finished with their rehearsals and warmups, unless they are doing these preparations in another room. Vatican norms for the celebration of the liturgy say that “Even before the celebration itself, it is commendable that silence be observed in the church, in the sacristy, in the vesting room, and in adjacent areas, so that all may dispose themselves to carry out the sacred action in a devout and fitting manner.”

Prior to the liturgical reforms of Vatican II, talking or even whispering in church was considered improper, perhaps even something to be acknowledged in confession. When Vatican II recovered the definition of the Church as the People of God with Christ as their head, and the liturgy as the communal prayer of all members of the assembly, there followed in the next decades an emphasis on making people feel welcome before the liturgy, on inviting people to gather before the liturgy in order to exchange greetings and briefly visit. Thus the cramped vestibules of older churches have rightfully given way to spacious “gathering spaces” separating the outdoors from the main body of the church. But visiting and chatting before the liturgy is best confined to these rooms. It is here, as well, that people might turn off their cellphones, which often seem to be the weapon of mass destruction for any kind of pleasant ambiance.

Justin Martyr

Among the many martyrs of Christianity’s first decades is a man names Justin. History apparently does not leave us his family’s last name, and so he has often been called, simply, “Justin Martyr.” He was born in the year 100 in Flavia Neapolis, a pagan Roman city in the heart of ancient Galilee. This town was built on the ancient town of Shechem, not far from Jacob’s well, and the place where Jesus spoke to the Samaritan woman about the water that brings everlasting life. 

He was born into a pagan Greek family, and having studied one system of philosophy after another, he was drawn to Christianity at the age of thirty-three. As a strongly committed layman, he traveled around preaching the gospel. At about the age of sixty-five, while on a journey to Rome, he was arrested and required to sacrifice to the pagan gods. When he refused, he was beheaded, along with five other men and a woman. While he went about preaching, he wrote several important works, parts of which we have with us today. These writings remain valuable sources of information about Christian faith and practice in those earliest decades.

 Justin has much to say to those who are interested in the history of our liturgy. Of particular interest is his description of the Sunday liturgy. Liturgy committee members and other good people sometimes expend much energy on whether we ought to stand or kneel, or a number of other topics which would be trivial to early Christians like Justin who were busy running for their lives. Justin reminds us that, to whatever century of Christianity we belong, the central act of our faith, the Sunday Liturgy, remains substantially the same, despite our idiosyncrasies and all the neuralgic issues that seem to divide us. What he described so long ago is remarkably familiar to us today.

 He writes, “On the day named after the sun, all who live in city or countryside assemble. The memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read for as long as time allows. When the reader is finished, the presider addresses us and exhorts us to imitate the splendid things we have heard. Then we all stand and pray. As we said earlier, when we have finished praying, bread, wine and water are brought up. The presider then prays and gives thanks according to his ability, and the people give their assent with an ‘Amen.’ Next, the gifts over which the thanksgiving has been spoken are distributed, and everyone shares in them, while they are also sent via the deacons to those who are absent.

 “The wealthy who are willing make contributions, each as he pleases, and the collection is deposited with the presider, who aids orphans and widows, those who are in want because of sickness or some other reason, those in prison, and visiting strangers - in short, he takes care of all in need. It is on Sunday that we all assemble, because Sunday is the first day: the day on which God transformed darkness and matter and created the world, and the day on which Jesus Christ our Savior rose from the dead. He was crucified on the eve of Saturn’s Day, and on the day after, that is, on the day of the sun, he appeared to his apostles and disciples and taught them what we have now offered for your examination.”