Liturgy Reflections

Recovering Mystery in the Eucharist

In 2003 Pope John Paul II wrote an insightful letter that speaks of the mysterious dimensions of the Eucharist. In his writing he states that “I would like to rekindle this Eucharistic ‘amazement’ by the present Encyclical Letter...” His letter clearly indicates that, at least in some quarters, this “amazement” is lacking, that some may have lost their sense of the mystery of the Eucharist. At the same time, the pope is clear that the mysterious dimension of the Eucharist is more than what you or I may feel. It is much more than pious feelings or religious sentiment.

The Eucharistic mystery is not mystery in the sense of putting the pieces of a puzzle together, or assembling clues as one would do in trying to solve a murder mystery. The Eucharistic mystery doesn’t get solved. We have clues to the Eucharistic mystery, but we will never fully understand it. Our comprehension of the mystery may develop over time, but we will never arrive at full comprehension of the mystery.

The mystery, simply and inadequately put, is: How and why is the risen Christ uniquely present in what appears to be merely bread and wine? Over the centuries the members of the Church and its theologians have tried to more deeply understand the mystery, and the pope praises their efforts. There are and have been many ways to explain the Eucharistic mystery, but all of them are more or less inadequate. While we continue to enter more deeply into the mystery, Pope John Paul recalls the cautionary words of Pope Paul VI: “Every theological explanation which seeks some understanding of this mystery, in order to be in accord with Catholic faith, must firmly maintain that in objective reality, independently of our mind, the bread and wine have ceased to exist after the consecration, so that the adorable body and blood of the Lord Jesus from that moment on are really before us under the sacramental species of bread and wine.”

Why did Pope John Paul think the mystery of the Eucharist is not sufficiently appreciated today? One reason he offers is that sometimes some people seem to reduce the Eucharistic mystery to a fraternal meal, even stripping the mystery of its sacrificial dimension. He speaks of those who demonstrate an exaggerated reaction against “formalism,” and he also mentions those who question the need for officially ordained ministers to preside at the Eucharistic liturgy. Such a congregational model of worship would be an unacceptable departure from our Catholic Christian belief and tradition.

Among other reasons for a lack of appreciation of the Eucharistic mystery, not mentioned in the encyclical letter, is that our highly technological culture is increasingly uncomfortable with anything that is not purely rational, and the Eucharist defies the rational, goes beyond what our minds can possibly grasp. We must continue to try to see with the eyes of faith. Some of the mystery is also lost when we limit our understanding of the Eucharist to one theological explanation, or to one Eucharistic spirituality, or to one form of Eucharistic devotion. To exclude other legitimate forms and points of view is to limit the mystery, and mystery, by definition, cannot be grasped or contained by our always inadequate human categories. No pope, no saint, not the greatest of theologians, no catechism, can perfectly explain the Eucharist, our “mystery of faith.”

January 31, 2012 | Permalink | Comments (0)

Remembering intentions at the liturgy

Every Mass, every celebration of the Eucharist, is offered for multiple intentions. These prayers, called intercessions, have been a part of the liturgy since earliest times. Thus our eucharistic prayers today make it clear that any Mass is offered for the universal church, the local church, for the pope, the bishops, for priests and deacons, and for all the faithful. After the homily and creed are finished, the Universal Prayer (also called the Prayer of the Faithful, Bidding Prayers, or General Intercessions) may also specify additional intentions. In fact, care needs to be taken that these Prayers of the Faithful do not become too lengthy or overburdened with too much content. After all, there are a lot of things to pray for, and no particular liturgy can possibly express every prayer intention.

How might a worshiping community best express its many prayer intentions? Trying to cram them all into the Prayers of the Faithful does not work. This is particularly true of our prayer intentions for the sick. Sometimes a community may have a long list of names of sick people to pray for, and the reading of such a long list in the Prayers of the Faithful not only makes for a tedious intercession, but also violates the nature of these prayers. They are “universal” or “general” intercessions, not “specific” intentions. It would be better to pray, in a general way, for all the sick, and to limit lists of names of people to the parish bulletin.

Another wonderful way to handle the many prayer intentions of the community is to have a parish book of intentions, located near the entrance to the church. Parishioners are then invited to write their various intentions in this book. Then one of the Prayers of the Faithful might be: “For all our personal intentions, and for those written in our parish petition book....we pray to the Lord...” Such a book is also a way for any parishioner to discover what are the specific needs of the community, and then to include those intentions in one’s own personal prayers.

Another longstanding custom is to have Mass celebrated for a special intention. This usually involves an intention for someone who is sick or has died, and often includes a card that is given to the sick person or to friends or loved ones of the deceased. Arranging for such a special Mass intention normally includes an offering of money to the priest or to the parish. Such private Mass intentions are often misunderstood. Sometimes the misunderstanding is that the Mass will be offered for only this one intention, but every Mass has an unlimited number of intentions. Sometimes there is a misunderstanding that giving money for a Mass intention in some way “buys” or assures some spiritual grace or favor that benefits the intention. But official church documents describing such Mass offerings indicate that the ones who benefit from the Mass offering are the institutional Church and its needs, and the donor. There are, fortunately, no guarantees made of any graces directed to the donor’s special intention. The most important reason for giving a money offering is that such a gesture enables the donor to more fully participate in the liturgy. Thus it is important, but not always the case, that the one who asks for a “Mass card” and who makes a money offering would intend to be present and fully participating at the liturgy that includes his or her special intention.

January 02, 2012 | Permalink | Comments (0)

The date of Christmas...

To understand the origins of the feast of Christmas, and why its date is December 25th, one needs to know something about the origins of the feast of Epiphany, always celebrated some days after Christmas. Epiphany was celebrated by Christians before there was a Christmas. The word epiphany means revelation, manifestation, or unveiling, and this ancient feast celebrated a number of events, such as the incarnation, the birth of Jesus (which would later have its own day called Christmas), the adoration by the wise men, Jesus’ baptism by John, and the miracle at Cana. Each of these biblical events, in some way, “revealed” who Jesus was.

At its origins, the date for this feast seems to have been January 6th, most likely chosen as a counter-feast to a number of pagan festivals celebrated at that time of the year. For example, at Alexandria in Egypt, Petra in Arabia, Alusa in Palestine, and in other places, the birth of a pagan god from a virgin mother was being celebrated. In Egypt people were celebrating the rise of the Nile river that would provide irrigation, and in Greece people were celebrating the birth of the god Dionysos, which also involved springs of water that produced wine on his feast. Thus we can begin to see why Christians might choose this time of the year to celebrate the birth of Jesus, as well as other events that involved water, like the baptism of Jesus and the marriage feast at Cana. The water connections would make Epiphany an ideal day, other than Easter and Pentecost, to celebrate Christian baptism.

Eventually Christians in various places wanted to celebrate the birth of Jesus on a separate day. Not all the reasons for this are known, and what is rather certain is likewise rather complex. One reason is that Christians became very concerned about the doctrine of the nature of Christ. For instance, some Christians were mistakenly believing and teaching that Jesus was not divine from his birth, but became divine only at his baptism, when a voice from heaven was heard to say, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.” To correct this notion, and to reaffirm the traditional teaching that Christ was divine from birth, Christian leaders thought it would be helpful to devote a particular day exclusively to the birth of Jesus.

The best that our historical evidence can tell us is that at least by the year 336 Christmas was being celebrated in Rome. Why was December 25th chosen? It was not because people believed that Jesus was born on that day, for like us, no one knew the exact date of the Lord’s birth. Once again, Christians most likely picked the 25th because pagans were celebrating something important on that day. The Romans were celebrating their worship of the sun at this precise time of the year. The dark, short days of winter were giving way to days of more light. Light was victorious over darkness, and December 25, on or about what we call the winter solstice, was a good day to celebrate the rebirth of light. For the Christians it was an equally appropriate time to celebrate Christ, the light of the world, whose coming to us overcomes sin and darkness. Even today Christmas remains a feast of light, and the Christmas lights that decorate our streets and homes and trees remain a reminder to us of Christ, victorious over all darkness.

November 28, 2011 | Permalink | Comments (0)

Amen...

Perhaps no religious term, other than the names of sacred persons, is as familiar to people of every faith and of no faith as the term “Amen.” We say the word at least eleven times during the celebration of the Mass. We even hear Jesus use the word in the course of his teaching, as he begins with “Amen, I say to you...” or even “Amen, Amen, I say to you...” It is on the lips of Jesus no less than 63 times in the gospels. But as is the case with so many words that have great significance but that have become exceedingly familiar, perhaps the word “Amen” loses some of its power, precisely because it is used so often. What exactly does the word mean, and where does it come from?

The word "Amen" is Hebrew in its origin. It is a word that has really remained untranslated, for its full meaning proved to be untranslatable. Current attempts at translation leave us with the words “truly” or, in older translations, “verily.” As the Hebrew scriptures were translated into the Greek language, the “Amen” is almost always translated as “Would that it might be so!” The word is an affirmation of what was said before, a statement of agreement, a personal seal of approval of what has just been uttered.

It is no surprise, then, to see early Christians refer to Jesus himself as humanity’s “Amen” to the mystery of God and creation. So Paul in his second letter to the Corinthians says that “In him (Jesus) all the promises of God are Yes, and in him is the Amen by us to the glory of God.” In other words, as Paul’s poetry describes it, when amazed at all God’s marvelous deeds on our behalf, and wanting to affirm such gifts, we need simply to say the word “Jesus.” He is the final and definitive affirmation, the once-and for-all “Amen” to the wonderful things God has done for us.

One characteristic of our liturgy in the earliest centuries was that the people participated in the sacred rites, not just by listening to the prayers of the priest in silence, but by ratifying those prayers by their acclamations. Using such acclamations was a cherished custom inherited from Jewish synagogue worship, and the “Amen” was the chief among those acclamations, and remains so today. St. Justin, who was writing in the second century, describes how, when the eucharistic prayer of the Sunday liturgy is finished, “all the people present give their assent with an ‘Amen!’ ‘Amen’ in Hebrew means ‘So be it!’” In the fourth century St. Jerome would testify that the “Amen” in the Roman churches and basilicas reverberated like a heavenly thunder.

Today we continue to acclaim this great “Amen” at the end of our eucharistic prayer. We are amazed, as we express in our eucharistic prayer, at all the wonderful things God has done for us in Christ. We, the Church, offer praise and honor to the Father through Christ who is High Priest, with Christ who is really present in the sacrificial memorial, and in Christ who gives himself in the eucharist to the members of his body. And all of this in the unity of the Holy Spirit. Through him, with him, in him, the Church proclaims, and we sing “Amen!” “Truly!”, and “Would that it might be so!”

November 07, 2011 | Permalink | Comments (0)

Conclusion to the Eucharistic Prayer...

When the bishop says Per ipsum et cum ipso, the archdeacon lifts the chalice, holding it by the handles with the linen called offertorium, and holds it on high, next to the bishop. The bishop touches the side of the chalice with the breads while saying Per ipsum et cum ipso up to the Per omnia saecula saeculorum. Then he places the breads in their place, and the archdeacon, having removed the offertorium from the chalice's handles, places the chalice next to the bread. (Ordo I, c. 700-750)

October 25, 2011 | Permalink | Comments (0)

Index: October, 2011 - August, 2005

Making our prayer inclusive... October 2011

Bringing our guilt to the liturgy... August 2011

The liturgy and war... July, 2011

The Communion procession... June, 2011

People of the Covenant... May, 2011

Our Profession of Faith... May, 2011

An Encyclical Letter on the Eucharist... April, 2011

The Great Feast of Three Days... March, 2011

Honoring Mary and the Saints... March, 2011

Receiving Communion under both forms... February, 2011

The risks of preaching... December, 2010

Background to the upcoming new translation... December, 2010

Ten silent moments in the liturgy... November, 2010

Peter Steinfels on church decline... November, 2010

One out of three adult Catholics leaves the church... November, 2010

The church and its chapels... October, 2010

Hyping the new translation... September, 2010

Preaching in the Sunday assembly... September, 2010

Jesuit calls new translation “abusive”... August, 2010

A sacrifice for the liturgy... August, 2010

A homily about the harvest... July, 2010

Liturgy and inclusion... July, 2010

Following the liturgical plan... June, 2010

The priest-laity ratio... May, 2010

Liturgy and distractions... May, 2010

A critique of the old Latin Mass... April, 2010

Watching the old Latin Mass... April, 2010

Keeping our Sunday obligation... April, 2010

The two tables of the liturgy... March, 2010

Why confess to a priest?... March, 2010

The chair - symbol of the priest as presider... February, 2010

The altar - center of thanksgiving... January, 2010

The Book of the Gospels... December, 2009

New translations: What If We Just Said Wait?... December, 2009

The Year of the Priest... November, 2009

Worshiping with our bodies... November, 2009

Bishop criticizes new translation... October, 2009

A Liturgy of the Word for children... October, 2009

Devotions: positive and negative elements... September, 2009

Why do people need devotions?... August, 2009

Whatever happened to devotions?... August, 2009

Roman Catholic devotions... July, 2009

Leaving the liturgy with grace... July, 2009

Holy Communion’s act of reverence... June, 2009

The deacon in the liturgy... May, 2009

Mediocrity... (new translation)... April, 2009

Colors for the liturgy... April, 2009

Communion as an act of faith... March, 2009

Bringing gifts to the altar... March, 2009

Liturgical dance... February, 2009

Striving for good music... February, 2009

Celebrating the Sign of Peace... January, 2009

New liturgy head... December, 2008

Original eucharistic symbols... December, 2008

The liturgy in its earliest days... November, 2008

Who’s going to church?... October, 2008

A Church with many liturgical faces... September, 2008

Money for the poor and for the Church... August, 2008

The new translation... August, 2008

New wine in new wineskins... July, 2008

How to judge liturgical music... July, 2008

The translation wars... June, 2008

Kneeling for Communion... June, 2008

What musical style for the liturgy?... June, 2008

Discerning the consequences... June, 2008

Feast day kneeling... May, 2008

Vesture for the servants of God... May, 2008

Greeting the people of God... May, 2008

Memories of Easter... May, 2008

Praying about scandal... May, 2008

The Creed introduced intoSpain in 589.. April, 2008

Sacramental minimalism... April, 2008

Defining liturgical ministry... April, 2008

The essence of Catholicism... March, 2008

What if deacons sing well but don’t act properly?... March, 2008

Who can be a bishop?... March, 2008

Recognizing the Body... February, 2008

Cyril of Jerusalem on Communion in the hand... February, 2008

What’s happening to marriage?... February, 2008

Need for more exorcisms?... February,2008

Augustine on who you are... February, 2008

The Chrism of salvation... February, 2008

Vatican on the defensive... February, 2008

McBrien on conservative Catholics... February, 2008

Military Archbishop installed... January, 2008

McBrien on Aquainas and liturgy... January, 2008

Pope to change the old Latin Mass?... January,2008

Preparing for infant baptism... January, 2008

Ambrose on receiving Communion... January, 2008

Pope Innocent I on the “Fermentum”... January, 2008

Baptism and the parish community... January, 2008

Marini’s new book... December, 2007

Review of “American Catholics Today”... December, 2007

Epiclesis from the Byzantine eucharistic prayer of St. Basil... December, 2007

The three judgements about music... December, 2007

Interview with Bishop Roche about translations... November, 2007

The liturgy and the individual... November, 2007

From Gregory of Tours (6th century)... November, 2007

Reminders about social justice... October, 2007

Should we name those who make offerings?... October, 2007

On becoming the Body of Christ... October, 2007

The angels’ song...from the Byzantine Liturgy’s Great Entrance... October, 2007

The “heresy” or rubricism... September, 2007

An offertory procession in Gaul, 6th century... September, 2007

The Virgin Mary, “sensational happenings” and “mindless credulity...” August, 2007

Victor of Vita tells of a blind man... August, 2007

A church’s seating arrangement... August, 2007

Cyprian on charitable giving... August, 2007

Another “mystery”... July, 2007

Another Vatican faux pas... July, 2007

Going back to the early church... June, 2007

Augustine reports a reader making a mistake... June, 2007

Symbol of the priest presider... June, 2007

“And with your Spirit”... June, 2007

Easter Sunday in Hippo in 426... May, 2007

Tomorrow’s priests... May, 2007

Ancient symbols... May, 2007

No liturgy on feast days out in the country... May, 2007

Meaning of “pro multis”... May, 2007

On Marian piety... November 2006

From Augustine’s letter to Januarius... November, 2006

On purifying chalices... October, 2006

More odd rules... October, 2006

More Latin Mass news... October, 2006

The latest about priests... October, 2006

Proposed translation of the Ordinary parts of the Mass... September, 2006

Latin in the Catholic Church... August, 2006

Mysterious liturgy (EWTN) revisited... August, 2006

Making our prayer inclusive...

The Church's liturgical prayers are inclusive, able to include all kinds and classes of people. This is no more evident than during the Easter Triduum, the culminationof the entire liturgical year. The intercessions of the Good Friday liturgy, in use during the very first centuries of Christian history, are clearly inclusive. At that liturgy we offer ten intentions. We pray for the Church, for the pope, for the clergy and for the laity, for those preparing for baptism, for other Christian churches, and for the Jewish people. We pray too for those who do not believe in Christ, for those who do not believe in God, for all who serve in public office, and for anyone in special need.

These intentions present us with a model for our own prayers of intercession, for often we might find ourselves reluctant to include some people in our prayers. Our prayer for the dead is one example. We might think the dead we pray for in our liturgy are are deceased baptized Catholics. But the prayers of the Mass are more inclusive than that. We pray for the baptized (those "marked with the sign of faith"), but as well for "all who sleep in Christ." We pray in other Eucharistic prayers that God bring "all the departed" into the light of Christ's presence, all who have left this world in God's friendship, all whose faith is known to God alone. No one is excluded in these prayers, unless we make a personal choice to exclude people

To be inclusive in our prayer means more than to use inclusive language - language that does not give the impression to others that we are leaving people out. Too many people, for example, are still content with the use of the word "men" to refer not to males, but to humanity in general, and yet increasing numbers of women and men find this an unnecessary exclusive use of our English language. The current translation of the scripture readings that we hear at the liturgy is a first attempt at being an inclusive translation, but we have a long way yet to go. Being inclusive in our prayer is easier if we become inclusive in our attitudes and in our spirituality.

When we pray for the dead at the liturgy do we find ourselves remembering only deceased friends or loved ones? Are we comfortable praying for strangers? Do we pray for people we don't like? A few years ago, in an astounding display of insensitivity and disrespect for the dead, the grisly photos of Saddam Hussein's dead sons were published, as if part of some carnival spectacle. Not that long ago some people were clamoring for the release of the death photos of Osama Bin Laden. Would we be comfortable praying for these unsavory characters, and for the loved ones and friends who mourn them?

Do we include convicted criminals in our prayers? Since 1976, when the Supreme Court reinstated the death penalty in our country, at least 1,271 people have been killed in our name. The universal Church has always been there to support these people in prayer. Have we individual members of the Body of Christ been there with our prayer? Jesus, after all, told us to "love your enemies and do good to those who hate you." His compassion and forgiveness are boundless, and so we can then pray at our liturgy, "Be mindful of our brothers and sisters who have fallen asleep in the peace of Christ, and all the dead whose fath only you can know. Lead them to the fulness of the resurrection and gladden them with the light of your face."

October 06, 2011 | Permalink | Comments (0)

Bringing our guilt to the liturgy...

Each of us has probably heard at least one amusing comment about “Catholic guilt,” or may even have shared humorous experiences relating to going to confession when we were a child. Such innocent humor is a part of our broad Catholic culture. Yet guilt is a normal part of our human experience, and as such, we bring it to the liturgy as a part or the selves that we offer, joined with the self- offering of Christ, as our gift to the Father.

Throughout history, the liturgical rites of the Church have dealt with human guilt in various ways, depending, to a large extent, on how guilty people have felt. How the liturgy addresses human guilt has also depended on how the teaching Church, at various times in history, viewed human unworthiness and the salvation Christ brought to our human condition. In looking at the centuries of Church history, there is no question that guilt and unworthiness have at times been exaggerated, often at the expense of other important considerations. Today, we are gradually bringing back to a proper perspective the balance between human guilt and God’s love, compassion, mercy and forgiveness.

A person’s or a community’s faith is lived out and expressed through the medium of certain particular metaphors. These metaphors shape not only the way people think about their faith, but also the ways they imagine, feel, and express that faith in liturgical rites. God’s making a covenant with his people has been such a metaphor for Judaism, and so to be a faithful Jew, one must live out the implications of that covenant. In the orthodox Christian East, the primary metaphor has been the breaking into human history of the kingdom of God. In the Christian West, our primary metaphor, gaining great popularity in the middle ages, has been Christ’s atonement for sin on Calvary. During following centuries there was no little confusion and misunderstanding about the nature of Christ’s sacrifice, his atonement for our sins, and the sacrificial nature of the Mass. By the thirteenth century, the atonement metaphor - Christ dying for us with the weight of our sins upon him, as if to appease the angry Father in heaven - had come to dominate the rite of the Mass.

Many theologians, and perhaps our own personal experience, suggest that Christ’s atoning sacrifice on Calvary is ceasing to be the primary metaphor for people that it has been since the high middle ages. Why? Because we view the human condition quite differently than did medieval Christians. We come to liturgy today to encounter not only the Savior who died for our sins, but also the Lord, the lover, the friend, the healer, as so many of our contemporary hymns suggest. It is Christ’s identification with humanity that grips so much of the contemporary imagination. As one theologian puts it, “Most healthy people in our world are simply not prepared to see guilt as the primary ground of their meeting with God.”

Professional liturgists at Vatican II argued, wisely but unsuccessfully, that the Mass should not begin with a proposed penitential rite, since it was not necessary to call to mind our sinfulness at this time, and since such a communal rite never before existed, except in a few Protestant traditions. Meanwhile we still begin most liturgies with an exercise in “calling to mind our sins,” (although the rite of sprinkling water and calling to mind our baptism is an optional and welcome alternative). Why should we always begin the liturgy by calling to mind our sins? Why not begin with calling to mind how much we love one another, or by calling to mind how good God is? If salvation is understood to be not just forgiveness from sin but wholeness, then our liturgical and personal prayer must speak for the whole of our lives and not simply for our sense of sinfulness.

August 30, 2011 | Permalink | Comments (0)

The liturgy and war

At our Sunday celebration of the eucharist we join with the risen Christ in offering our lives to the Father, while at the same time becoming more deeply the body of Christ as we partake in his risen presence by receiving the consecrated bread and wine in Communion. But offering our lives means offering the various experiences that make up our lives, including, in these days, the wars that inflict countless injuries and leave in their wake such horrifying death and destruction. We do not come to the liturgy to comfortably escape issues like war, or other global or personal issues. Liturgy does not attempt to deny life’s anxieties, but to put them into the context of Christ’s ongoing intercession to the Father on our behalf, and the resulting conversion and transformation that follows from such divine intercession.

What does the liturgy, in its prayers and texts, have to say about war? The question is important, for the answer will tell us some of what we, the Church, ought to believe and pray for in difficult times. The Church’s liturgical books contain a eucharistic liturgy for times of war or civil disturbance. It is interesting to note that this is not a Mass for victory (there is no such liturgy), but a Mass for safety, for an end to war, and for the establishment of peace.

The opening prayer of the Mass tells us what we ought to pray for: “God of power and mercy, you destroy war and put down earthly pride. Banish violence from our midst and wipe away our tears, that we may all deserve to be called your sons and daughters.” An alternative prayer asks for protection from people of violence, and safety from weapons of hate. The prayer over the gifts of this Mass seems to imply, rightfully, that we who pray are a part of the problem, and asks the Father to “banish the violence and evil within us” in order to “restore tranquility and peace.” After Communion we pray, again, that God will help us overcome war and violence, and that God’s law of love and justice will be established.

A number of scriptural readings and two psalms are provided for this liturgy in time of war, full of themes of peace and putting an end to war. For example, the prophet Micah proclaims: “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; One nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again.” (These verses are inscribed on the front of the United Nations building). In Matthew’s gospel Jesus warns that “everyone who grows angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment.” In this same gospel Jesus declares, “You have heard the commandment, ‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.’ But what I say to you is: offer no resistance to injury. When a person strikes you on the right cheek, turn and offer him the other...”

These texts should never be interpreted to mean that nations should not defend themselves or assist in protecting other nations, but they do clearly mean that peace should be sought out at all cost. It may not be easy to hear our liturgical texts tell us to love our enemies and do good to those who hate us. In the recent past it was difficult for many to hear the United States bishops write that “We continue to find it difficult to justify the resort to war in Iraq, lacking clear and adequate evidence of an imminent attack of grave danger.” It is likewise difficult for some Catholics who think war is the answer to hear Pope John Paul say, “No to war! War is not always inevitable. It is always a defeat for humanity.” These words are difficult because the liturgy and the teaching of pope and bishops present us with the challenge of the gospel of Jesus, who persistently calls us to act out of love, compassion and understanding, rather than out of our natural sense of rage, revenge, or even impatience.

July 26, 2011 | Permalink | Comments (1)

The Communion procession...

The Communion rite of the Mass begins with the Lord’s Prayer and ends when the priest concludes with the prayer after Communion. The rite is made up of four basic gestures or expressions: the Lord’s Prayer, the peace greeting, the breaking of the bread, and the reception of Communion. One powerful moment that is often overlooked in this sequence of events is our manner of approaching the holy table to receive Communion.

But before we approach the altar we are invited. The invitation has often been overlooked or ignored. It would not be appropriate, even for special ministers of the eucharist, to approach the altar until the invitation is given. The invitation, in its new translation, is the announcement, “Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.” Our response to the invitation comes with an unfortunate translation. Our “Lord I am not worthy” reflects none of the trustful confidence of the original Latin words. The clever Latin original is almost impossible to reproduce in English with the original’s overtones of confidence and hope. What the Latin really means is “Happy indeed are we, for though we are sinners, you call us to your table.”

We approach the altar in a liturgical procession. In other words, we are not just lining up to wait our turn, like people in line at a supermarket check-out stand. Rather we are a part of one of the four liturgical processions of the Mass: the entrance procession, the procession with the book of gospels, the procession with the gifts of bread and wine, and the Communion procession (note that the liturgical books do not really stress any liturgical procession out of the church at the end of the liturgy). In my own parish we begin the Communion procession with the people who are in the back of the church rather than with those in the front. This seems to make for a better appearance of a long, joyous procession, and also provides for a smoother flow of the procession towards the holy table.

A procession is a ritual way of getting from one place to another, and doing so with a particular mood. A funeral procession is rather somber, but the Communion procession is joyous (“Happy are those who are called...”), and its joyous nature is expressed particularly in song. Liturgical directives about music tell us that the Communion procession song is not supposed to foster a sense of adoration but rather a sense of unity - a sense that we are approaching the eucharistic table not as isolated individuals but as a united community. To further acknowledge this unity in Christ, we remain standing until all have received Communion and the priest returns to his seat. Those of us older Catholics are tempted to return to our places and launch into our private prayers of thanksgiving, as we were taught from early childhood. But we are all a part of the procession, and the procession is not finished until all have returned to their seats. Then when the priest has taken his seat, people may sit or kneel for a period of silent prayer. The Communion rite is not first of all about a personal encounter we are having with Christ in the eucharist, but rather it is about sharing the eucharistic presence of the risen Christ. The Communion rite is designed to convey a sense that sharing at the eucharistic table is an anticipation of sharing the eternal banquet in the kingdom of heaven.

June 29, 2011 | Permalink | Comments (0)