A reflection on priestly life -- part 7

Letter to Ann T. Clerikuhl continued….yet more whining

There are many more elements to the current mess. One is the new concept of “liturgical style”. We have dancing celebrants, Broadway tune-singing celebrants, children’s Mass clown celebrants, and the ubiquitous Five-Sermons-Explaining-The-Mass-As-You-Go-Along celebrant. We also have the Say-What’s-In-The-Black-Do-What’s-In-The-Red celebrant, or the boring celebrant. I am of the boring celebrant school.  Someone recently recommended that I make Mass more exciting.

I retorted, “On the contrary! I am trying to make Mass more boring!”

They said that I was succeeding beyond my wildest dreams in doing so. 

The Five-Sermons-Explaining-The-Mass-As-You-Go-Along celebrant says things like “Peace be with you, true peace, inner peace, that deep serenity, that knowing which the Lord gives us that makes us aware of the beauty of nature and the fullness of the plentitude of all innerness.” 

To this the congregation responds, “And with your Spirit.” Or sometimes just, “Back at ya’ Father.” 

This kind of priest finds himself infinitely interesting and thinks we do too. It never occurs to him that maybe you just want to go to Mass. This type of celebrant also tends to have a religious voice when praying; He says things like, “O, Gawd…” in high-pitched voice accompanied by extravagant gestures.  He usually wears interesting vestments.  

In the old Mass there were lots of ways a priest could commit a mortal sin while saying Mass. If he willingly left out or changed parts and actions of the Mass, it was a big deal. This seems absurd, but it had a few things going for it. Mass was Mass was Mass. You were perfectly at home in the jungles of Bavaria or on the dark and mysterious North Shore of Chicago. Now that we have dancing, singing, clowning, extemporizing celebrants, it doesn’t seem that absurd.

The wisdom of the ages knew that we the clergy have serious temptations to raging narcissism, but as long as we all had to do the same thing, weren’t talking into a microphone and weren’t even looking at people for most of the Mass, we were pretty much held in check. When we turned around and got our mitts on a microphone, all bets were off. A few neglected children found a ready audience for their unrecognized and unappreciated cuteness.

Things are better now. Most of the serious narcissists found more amusing things to do 20 or 30 years ago, but the tendency among some is to think that the emotive, cute, expressive liturgical style is somehow better, or more pastoral, or more sincere. I remember a homiletics teacher who used to say, “Gentleman, you have to put more pizzazz in the homily!” I agree with him. The homily sometimes needs a little more enthusiasm, but we have definitely overcompensated and put our pizzazz into anything but the homily. I for one am pretty tired of liturgical pizzazz. I would like a little more substance and a little less pizzazz. Anyway….. 

The liturgical pizzazz syndrome has had some interesting results. Combine that with the fact that now a person may drive for half a day to a parish where they feel “comfortable,” and you get designer parishes. If you like lots of incense, you can go to St. Foggia’s. If you like grand Mozart Masses you can drive across town to St. Teutonica’s. If you like Broadway show tunes you can always stop in for the matinee Mass at Saints Panes et Circenses.

You catch my drift? In the evil olden days you were stuck with old Monsignor Fensterslammer who said Mass pretty much the way everybody else said it. This was the same era in which all phones were black and kept on the desk in the front hall, the era in which telemarketers could not harass you in the bathroom.  Just as we upgrade our phones every six months, we can upgrade our religion about as quickly. In the sad past your parish was your parish and you knew those people from cradle to grave and they knew you.  

When Old Monsignor Fensterslammer kicked the bucket, they carried him out of the rectory feet first, decked the church façade in black bunting and waited for the next guy, who might be a better or worse preacher or a better or worse confessor or more or less a curmudgeon than the old guy who had just died, but the parish was still the parish. The head of the Altar and Rosary Society was still the head of the Altar and Rosary society. The same was true for the women’s guild, the Holy Name Society, the men’s club, the school and the mothers’ club. The secretary and the housekeeper and the janitor still growled at you when you wanted something and life went on.

You still had a community that demanded your tolerance, your love, and your best efforts to make it work, and often your forgiveness. Thank God that era is over and we can make demands of our community instead of having to put up with the demands our community makes on us. We no longer have to put up with people we may not like and who may not think like we do. We can have genuine community. (This is sarcasm, of course, like most of this entire screed.)  

There is an unforeseen problem with the designer parish. The pastor is moved every 12 years, maximum, the associate every six years. Then they put in someone at St. Foggia’s who hates incense, someone at St. Teutonica’s who only likes that new music from 50 years ago, like those classic funeral hymn “On Beagles’ Wings” or “I will Raise The Rent” and someone at Saints Panes and Circenses who refuse to say Mass in any language but Latin. People take to their cars in a desperate search for another parish where they can feel comfortable and have true community.

I am writing all this not merely to get things off my chest, which feels remarkably refreshing, but to point out that if you are looking for the parish and the parish priest of once upon a time, that structure died in the heady days of the post-conciliar Church. It’s not coming back. The cloud of glory has moved on.  Where it has moved I am not sure.

Next week, more endless whining.

RKIA Explains the Mass -- part 6

(The Mass explained. Letter to Churchill Lafemme continued)

Now we come to (8) the canon of the Mass. Canon not cannon. The Mass has nothing to do with heavy artillery, except in the spiritual sense. The word "canon" comes from the 5,000 year-old Akkadian language, through Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Old French and finally English. It means cane, or reed and finally measuring stick. A canon is an unchanging measure to which other things are compared. 

The canon of the Mass is an unchanging, formal prayer. There is no improvisation in a canon. There are four primary canons which may be used for Mass, the first or Roman Canon which is the oldest continuously used canon in the Latin Church (us). This form of the central Mass prayer was pretty much in place by the year 600. It remained largely unchanged until 1970 when three more canons were added. The second canon is an adaptation of an ancient Roman canon of the 2nd or 3rd century. The third canon is a recent composition in which a graduate school project (I kid you not) combined elements of three Eastern Rite canons and the fourth canon is an adaptation of the Eastern Rite canon of St. Basil. There are also canons that can be used for celebrations of the Mass for special intentions such as reconciliation and unity. These are rarely used. The fourth canon is also rarely used simply because it is so long, so there are really three canons that are in common use, but these should not be improvised. That is why they are called canons.

The essential elements of a canon of the Mass are the calling down of the Holy Spirit called the “epiclesis” a prayer during which the priest extends his hands over bread and wine as a priest in the temple would have done with any sacrifice. There are the words of the Lord’s Last Supper, “This is my body... this is the chalice of my blood....” There are prayers for the Church and the world. There is a final offering of the transformed bread and wine, now become the flesh and blood of the Son of God. “Through Him and with Him and in Him…” the congregation ends with an “Amen.”

We move now to the receiving of Communion. The Mass is a covenant sacrifice. When we receive Holy Communion, we give ourselves to the Lord and the Lord givers Himself to us. When we come up to the communion rail, the place where heaven and earth meet, we are in effect saying that as Christ lay Himself body, blood, soul and divinity on the altar for my salvation, so I lay myself, body, blood, soul and imperfect humanity on the altar for love of Him and, with Him, for the redemption of the world. I don’t come to Mass only to get, but to give, to join myself to the sacrifice of Christ on Calvary, to “make up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ.” (Colossians 1:24)

Now we move on to sing or say (9) the “Our Father” the prayer Jesus taught us. In the Our Father we state the terms of the covenant. It is the prayer of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane right before His crucifixion. Like Him we call on God as our Father, asking that His will be done and not ours as we join ourselves to Christ’s sacrifice on the altar of the cross. We then pray for peace and exchange a sign of peace with those around us in church. 

To prepare for communion (10) We ask the sacrificial Lamb of God to Have Mercy on us three times. Then, hearing the words of St. John the Baptist, “Behold, the Lamb of God…” (John 1:29) we kneel before that selfsame Lamb of God and ask for healing, though we are unworthy, using the words of a Roman centurion in the New Testament “Lord, I am not worthy....”(Matt 8:8) as the priest lifts the sacrificial body and blood of the Lord in the form of bread and wine before the congregation.(11)We then come up to receive the body and blood of the Lord sealing our covenant with Him as would have been done in the temple when those offering sacrifice ate some of the sacrifice, bringing about communion with God. During communion a hymn or another psalm verse may be sung. (12) There is a final prayer, a blessing and a dismissal. And that’s it! So there it is, really quite simple:

(hymn or psalm verse)

1.    Greeting and Confession of sin

2.    Song of Praise (Gloria)

3.    First prayer (Collect)

4.    Bible Study or Liturgy of the Word (Including a psalm and two or three bible sections)

5.    Statement of faith (Creed) and intentions
(Psalm verse or hymn)

6.    Offering of bread and wine (Offertory)

7.    Invitation to prayer (Preface)

8.    Calling down of the Holy Spirit, Words of the Lord’s Supper and Prayers (Canon)

9.    The Lord’s Prayer and prayers for peace

10. Preparation for Holy Communion

11. Holy Communion
(During which a psalm or hymn can be sung)

12. Final prayer Blessing and Dismissal
(After which a hymn may be sung)

Here is a description of the Mass from around 150 AD

On the day called Sunday, all.... gather together to one place and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we before said, when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability, and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to each, and a participation of that over which thanks have been given.....

And this food is called among us Eukaristia [the Eucharist], of which no one is allowed to partake but the man who believes that the things which we teach are true, and who has been washed with the washing that is for the remission of sins, and unto regeneration, and who is so living as Christ has enjoined. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Savior, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh. (St. Justin Martyr, First Apology LXVII)

Bible study, offering of bread and wine, consecration of the bread and wine and then communion in the flesh and blood of the Lord. There are many different forms and many different adaptations of the Mass over the past 20 centuries, but in essence, it is the same thing since the first century. St Justin Martyr would recognize what will happen in every Catholic church this Sunday. In fact he will recognize it, because he will be in attendance. All the saints and angels that ever were, go to every single Mass, because there is only one Mass ever said, there is only one Calvary, there is only one heavenly banquet, there is only one last supper and every Mass everywhere and in every age is part of it. It is heaven come to earth. See you there.

Rev. Know-it-all

RKIA Explains the Mass -- part 5

The Mass explained. Letter to Churchill Lafemme continued)
Now on to the Mass!

The Mass usually begins with a verse from the Psalms, or a hymn (optional). Hymn is just a Greek word for “song of praise.” Psalms are ancient Hebrew Songs of Praise called “Tehillim” in Hebrew, in Greek “Psalmoi”, meaning “instrumental music” or “song lyrics.” There are 150 psalms in the Bible, some of which were possibly written by King David three thousand years ago. The traditional chant melodies by which these songs are sung are very ancient, some of them actually seem to go back to the melodies by which they were sung in the temple.

Then we have the greeting. We begin with the sign of the cross saying, “In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” We are here not in our own name, but in the name of - for the sake of - by the authority of - GOD, and not for our own purposes. Then the priest greets us by saying, “The Lord be with you” or some variant of that. We always respond “and with your Spirit.” The word “Spirit” has already been mentioned twice and we’ve hardly begun. This is to remind us that we are entering into something that is real but can’t be seen with the eyes of the body alone. We are entering the spiritual world by the power of the Holy Spirit. We are going back to the timeless sacrifice of Christ on Calvary, and forward to the great Marriage Banquet of heaven.

1. Next we admit our sins, and ask the Lord for mercy. There are a few variations of this part of the Mass.

2. Then we sing hymn of praise called the “Gloria.” This is sung or said on Sundays and important feast days except during Lent and Advent. It is a sort of “private” psalm that doesn’t come from the Bible but was composed in the 2nd and 3rd centuries after Christ. It was originally part of the morning prayer services. In the West it became part of the Mass. The western version of the song is usually attributed to St. Hilary of Poitiers, who lived around 350 AD. It starts with the song of the Angels at the birth of Christ and then moves on to the praise of the Holy Trinity.

3. From there we move on to the first prayer of the Mass, usually called the “Collect.” It also called the opening prayer. It is called the Collect (accent first syllable), because it gathers the people and all their prayers into one voice. It was probably the original opening to Mass in the first centuries, the confession of sin and the Gloria being a sort of preparation for Mass. The collect is not a spontaneous prayer. It is mandated in the Missal and it is a beautiful thing that one billion people throughout the world are lifting their voices to God in the same words. Humanity is collected, gathered together in way that no political organization can come close to matching.

4. Then we move on to Bible study. On Sundays and important feast days there are two readings, usually one from the Old Testament, then a psalm and then one from the New Testament other than the Gospels. This is followed by another verse from a psalm. Last, a section of one of the Gospels is read. On weekdays there is just one non-Gospel reading — Old or New Testament — a psalm, then psalm verse followed by a Gospel reading. The readings all come from a fairly strict calendar of readings, thought there may be some variance. No reading is allowed at Mass except for those taken from the Bible. In fact, the Bible was probably formed from those books read at Mass by the early Christians. 

The Mass is, in a certain sense, the mother of the Bible! If you go to Mass for three years running you will hear most of the Bible read out loud. (Tell that to someone who says the Catholic Church doesn’t read the Bible!) The readings are usually followed by a homily or sermon. Homily is a Greek word for “comparison.” Sermon is a Latin word for “a speech.” So here you have the “Liturgy of the Word.”

a) Old Testament reading

b) Psalm and response

c) New Testament reading

d) Psalm verse and response

e) Gospel

f) Homily

— Six parts or less to the Liturgy of the Word. Easy Peasy!

5. After this we move on to the Creed. Before we move into “second gear” we make sure that we all agree with each other on the basic points of the faith, especially that Jesus is both God and man, that He became flesh in the womb of the blessed Virgin and that He died and rose from the dead for our salvation, because in a few minutes that flesh, born of the virgin Mary, will become present on the altar in the form of bread and wine and we will be transported back to His crucifixion and His resurrection in the timeless spiritual realm. 

6. After this we offer bread and wine to the Lord. This section of the Mass usually begins with a psalm verse or a hymn and if there is a collection taken up it is usually taken up here. The Mass was modernized in the 1960's and this is the part of the Mass that changed most. The prayers now used are essentially the same ancient prayers that Jews still use for the blessing of bread and wine. This takes us way back, 4,000 years ago. The high priest Melchizedek offered bread and wine to the Lord when Abraham, the ancestor of Jesus and our spiritual ancestor, defeated his enemies. This offering of bread and wine has never stopped since then. Often incense is burned during this part of the Mass as was done in the Temple in Jerusalem. This part of the Mass ends with a prayer prayed by the priest.

7. After the sacrifice of bread and wine, the priest again greets the people and invites them to “lift up their hearts” to the Lord. There is a prayer called the Preface. It is a variable introduction to the most important parts of the Mass. The congregation responds by singing or saying a very ancient prayer that comes to us from the temple liturgy. The first part of the Sanctus comes from Isaiah 6:3. It is the song of the six-winged, fiery angels (seraphim) who stand before the throne of God. It is similar to the vision of angels in the Apocalypse (4:8). In synagogues, a similar prayer is said during the Kedusha, (sanctification prayer) which is a part of the Amidah (18 Blessings or the “standing prayer”). We repeat the words of the angels because we are about to enter into their presence and stand in the court of God in heaven. So, fasten your seat belts you are about to be rocketed beyond space and time.

(To be continued)

RKIA Explains the Mass -- part 2

Episode 2: Why do they wear all those strange clothes at Mass?

Short answer: they have to wear something. Long answer: the clothes, or as they are usually called, vestments, come from the long history of the Church. They are a visible sign of unity with all those who have gone before us and all those who will come after us. They are full of rich symbolism. Why not wear modern clothes instead of weird ancient clothes? For one reason, today’s modern clothes will become weird old-fashioned clothes in about ten years. For a second reason, it is a reminder that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)

Before the changes in the Mass in the 1960’s, the things that priests wore at Mass were all very strictly defined. Now, in the Latin Rite of the Church, some are required, some are optional and a lot of priests leave out even the ones that aren’t optional. In the Eastern rites of the Church, the vestments are still governed by very strict rules.  

A priest is supposed to begin with the washing of the hands, a custom that goes back to the Israelites in the temple and that the Jews still practice. As he washes his hands he says “Give virtue to my hands, O Lord, that being cleansed from all stain I might serve you with purity of mind and body.”

The first thing a priest puts on is called an amice. Not many priests wear it anymore, but it is not optional. Its purpose is to cover the modern collar and clothing a priest or deacon wears. When we say Mass, we are symbolically entering a different space and time, so we cover our regular clothes. Also, the amice keeps the alb and chasuble clean. We more enthusiastic preachers can get a little bit sweaty in the course of a hell fire and brimstone sermon. The amice protects the vestments. The amice is a large square of cloth with strings at two of the corners that tie the amice in place. The priest kisses it, places it over his head and then on his shoulders while he says a prayer, “Place upon me, O Lord, the helmet of salvation, that I may overcome the assaults of the devil.” The amice symbolizes the helmet of salvation (Ephesians 6:17). When the priest and the deacon go to the altar they are going to war with the forces of darkness. The amice reminds them of that.

Second, over this he puts on a long white robe, called an alb (Latin for, you guessed it, “white robe”). It was standard wear at the time of Christ and was the common outfit of the ancient world, a long tunic with loose sleeves. Jews often wear a similar alb at certain services.  It’s supposed to be worn only by the priests and deacons. It is white in order to symbolize the white robe that all of us received at baptism. It is a symbol of sanctifying grace and the purity of heart that the Christian strives for. According to the book of Revelation 7:14, the saints wear long white robes that were made white in the blood of the Lamb. The priest or deacon says a prayer while putting on the white robe. (Make me white, O Lord, and cleanse my heart; that being made white in the Blood of the Lamb I may deserve an eternal reward).

Third, a priest puts on an ancient Roman belt, which is nothing more than a rope. It’s called a cincture. The knot with which it is traditionally tied can be seen on ancient Roman statues. It represents self control, one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22). A prayer from the first Letter of Peter (1:13) is said when a priest puts on the cincture (Gird me, O Lord, with the cincture of purity, and quench in my heart the fire of concupiscence, that the virtue of continence and chastity may abide in me). Good prayer. Good reminder.

Fourth and next is something called a maniple. It is not used much anymore, but it has a beautiful symbolism. It is thought to have derived from an ancient style of kerchief that the Romans wore on their left arm. It was used to wipe away tears or sweat and came to be a symbol of the pastoral work of the priesthood. I have also heard that it represented the ropes that are sometimes shown that bound the Lord to the cross in addition to the nails that sometimes sees in old pictures of the crucifixion. The maniple symbolizes that the priest is bound to Christ at Mass, just as Christ was bound. When a priest went to the pulpit to preach, he took off the maniple and left it on the altar. In the Mass the priest represents Christ. He takes off the maniple to show that the Mass is Christ. The sermon is the priest. Perhaps it would be a good thing to bring back a more common use of the maniple to remind us clergy that we are not individually infallible. The prayer said while putting on the maniple is “May I deserve, O Lord, to bear the maniple of weeping and sorrow in order that I may joyfully reap the reward of my labors.”

Then fifth, the priest and the deacon put on a stole over the amice alb and cincture while saying a prayer (Lord, restore the stole of immortality, which I lost through the collusion of our first parents, and, unworthy as I am to approach Thy sacred mysteries, may I yet gain eternal joy). The stole probably comes from scarf or sash of office worn by ancient Roman official. It was kind of ancient Roman sergeant stripes. It also may have ties to the ancient Israelite prayer shawl and the towel that Jesus wore to wash the feet of the disciples at the Last Supper. The priest wears it one way and the deacon another way to symbolize their different roles in the Church and the Liturgy. The priest stands in for Christ which is why his stole is thought to represent the towel with which Christ washed the disciples’ feet. The congregation is the Bride, the Body of Christ symbolically clothed in the white robe of baptism, and the deacon? Very interestingly, in the Eastern Church the deacon’s stole is worn outside his topmost garment, the dalmatic. It is rearranged just before Holy Communion to represent the wings of the angels, so at Mass you have the Lord, the Bride and the Angels represented by the priest the deacon and the congregation.

Sixth, over all this the deacon and the priest wear an outer garment in the Latin Church. The priest wears a chasuble; from the Latin word “casula” the word means the little house. It is in fact an ancient Roman overcoat. Originally it was a semicircular piece of cloth sewn up the front which reaches down almost to the feet on all sides. It makes it really hard to lift the arms or even to move. That’s part of the symbolism. Love covers a multitude. (1Peter4:8.) It represents the sacrificial love that a pastor should have for his flock. Over the years the sides have been trimmed back for the Latin Church and the front has been trimmed off for the Eastern Church. The priest or bishop says this prayer when putting on the chasuble: “O Lord, who has said, ‘My yoke is sweet and My burden light,’ grant that I may so carry it as to merit Thy grace.”

The deacon wears a dalmatic, which is fascinating garment. It is a tunic with wide sleeves. I was always taught that it freed up the arms so the deacon could lift things and so was symbolic of the deacon role of service, having sleeves already “rolled up for work”. There is more to it than that. The dalmatic was an upper class garment. The emperor wore one. The first to wear it were probably not deacons, but bishops, and bishops still wear a dalmatic for certain occasions. They wear it under the chasuble. This is an important symbol. The priest wears a chasuble, the garment of pastoral love; the deacon wears the dalmatic, the garment of pastoral service.

Everyone thinks of the Church as a kind of military chain of command. It isn’t. The Church is meant to be a family. The deacon doesn’t answer to the priest who in turn answers to the bishop. The deacon is the assistant to the bishop in his ministry of service and the priest is the assistant to the bishop in his ministry of sacrificial love. The bishop is thus the head deacon and, at the same time, the head elder (presbyter and priest mean the same thing.)  The dalmatic ties the ministry of the deacon to the bishop whose servant ministry is like that of the angels. Both the bishop and the deacon say this prayer when putting on the dalmatic “Lord, endow me with the garment of salvation, the vestment of joy, and with the dalmatic of justice ever encompass me.”

All this is going on just in getting ready for Mass. So why do we do it? Lots of reasons. For one thing the Bible tells us to, “Worship the Lord in holy attire.” (Psalm 96:2) This is also translated as “Worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness.” When we go to Mass, we leave time and space. The clothes the minister wears are not just a good show. They remind us that we are in a time that was long ago and a time that is yet to come. We are eternal.

But the hats? What about the hats?

Next week: Smells and Bells and Funny hats!

RKIA Explains the Mass - part 1

Dear Rev. Know-it-all,

I went to my first Catholic Mass last Sunday. I was clueless. All that kneeling and standing and the strange outfits. Could you please explain the Mass?

Yours sincerely, 

Churchill A “Churchy” Lafemme

 Dear Churchy,

You, like most of us Catholics, have no idea of the meaning, origin and rich symbolism of the Mass, so I will explain it in tedious detail:

The Mass. Mass is only one word for the fullest way we Catholics worship the Lord. The other words are the “Sacrifice of the Mass”, the “Holy Eucharist”, the “Liturgy” and, most interestingly, the Hebrew/Aramaic word “Korban” which is still used by Aramaic-speaking Christians.

“Mass” is an adaptation of the last words of this ancient ritual when it is said in Latin. The last words said by the priest are “Ite, missa est." “Ite, missa est” literally means “Go, it is the dismissal”, in effect, “You are free to go.”  Not a very glorious word for the name of something so important to us.  A lot of liturgical experts try make something more meaningful of the words, saying that it refers to our being sent on a mission, yadda yadda. Hogwash! It means, “You can go now.”  And those were the only words that some people paid attention to.  

The more proper word for the Mass is the Holy Eucharist. Eucharist is a Greek word that means “Thanksgiving”. The ancient Israelites offered a sacrifice called the Thanksgiving Sacrifice, “Korban Todah” in Hebrew. It was a communion sacrifice that involved 40 loaves of bread along with a pouring out of wine. It was offered when someone had been saved from death. The Hebrew sages believed that at the coming of the Anointed One (Messiah, in Hebrew, Christ, in Greek) all the sacrifices of the Law would cease, except for the Thanksgiving Sacrifice. The first Christians realized that Jesus had established this Messianic thanksgiving Sacrifice by giving us His own flesh and blood in the form of bread and wine. This is what He promised when He fed the multitude by multiplying a few loaves and fish. This is what He did at the Last Supper and this is what finished on the Cross. 

The Mass is a kind of time machine that takes us back to the Last Supper and to Calvary and even to the end of time where we celebrate the great wedding feast of Christ and church. Sometimes we call the Mass the “Liturgy” which is a Greek word. It literally meant the work of the people, but referred to the sacred dramas performed by the Greeks to retell the stories of the gods. These liturgies were very sacred and did not originally change the story. The actors wore masks so that you knew you were not looking at actors but at the faces of the gods. The first Christians who mostly spoke Greek adopted the word “Liturgy” to mean the unchanging ritual that made God present among us. A liturgy belongs to all the Christians ever born or whoever will be born. It is a work of the whole people of God, not just one congregation or community so it is a very structured ritual, not just an optional and changeable church service. 

The Aramaic word by which the very first Christians and their Middle Eastern descendants still call the Mass is Korban, the Sacrifice. Jesus died once and for all on Calvary, but St. Paul says, “I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions.” (Col, 1:24) Christ’s sacrifice is perfect. All that is lacking is the offering of myself along with Him for the salvation and redemption of the world. He is timeless. We are still in time. At a Mass, time and eternity meet. Heaven comes to us and we go to heaven. Mass is the un-bloody renewal of the one sacrifice of Christ on the Cross in which you and I have the privilege of participating.  

In the Thanksgiving Sacrifice in the temple, 40 loaves of bread, some leavened and some unleavened, were offered to God and then after some had been burned on the altar and wine had been poured out, the loaves were returned to the one making the sacrifice, which he then took home and shared with his neighbors. In the Mass, bread and wine are offered to the Lord and it is Christ himself, the Lamb of God who is returned to us to share with our family and friends. We believe that the bread and wine offered to God become Christ Himself, the Bread of Life, present in a physical way. Bread and wine don’t simply represent Christ. They become Christ. This is real. We call it the Real Presence. 

In 1996, in Buenos Aires, a communion wafer was found thrown away on a candle holder in the back of a church after Mass. Fr. Alejandro Pezet put it in water inside the tabernacle (the metal box in which the leftovers of communion are kept safely locked) when he next opened the tabernacle, he was amazed to find that the wafer which we call the host, (a Latin word for sacrificial victim), had changed into something that appeared to be bleeding. He contacted his bishop Don Jorge Bergoglio. The bloody Host was left in the tabernacle for years and continued to bleed and grow. After a few years the bishop decided to have it scientifically analyzed because a host normally dissolves when left in water. It doesn’t turn into a bloody piece of flesh that won’t decompose. 

In 1999, Cardinal Bergoglio asked Dr. Ricardo Castanon, an atheist, to examine the host. He sent a sample New York for testing without explaining what it originally had been. One of the examining scientists, Dr. Frederic Zugibe, a cardiologist and forensic pathologist, determined that it was a piece of heart muscle. A piece of unleavened bread had become a piece of heart muscle at a Mass. That’s what Catholics believe happens at every Mass. (By the way, Cardinal Bergoglio is now Pope Francis and Dr. Castanon is now a fervent Catholic.)  The same sort of thing seems to have happened in 2008 at St. Anthony of Padua Church in Sokolka, Poland and at the church of St. Longinus in Lanciano, Italy around the year 700. They too, having been forensically examined, turn out to be heart tissue.  

Mass is not just a nice religious ritual. It is the Last Supper continued; it is Calvary renewed; it is the Resurrection made present; it is heaven anticipated. 

“Well,” you may say, “You haven’t explained the strange clothes, the complicated rituals and all the standing and kneeling and sitting.” Don’t worry, the night is still young. 

Next week: Ancient Roman raincoats and other Catholic things.

We have lost our minds..

Letter to Mary K. Lastima, the grand finale.

It must seem a little far fetched to you, that somehow the banality with which the liturgy is celebrated by many officiants, the prevalence of abortion and the worship of demonic spirits are somehow all tied together. Perhaps I should throw in space aliens and Bigfoot while I am at it.

I say the Mass of St. Pius V (more commonly called the Tridentine Mass) regularly.  I more often say the Mass of the Venerable Paul VI (commonly called the Ordinary form of the Novus Ordo. I am not opposed to the Mass of Paul VI. I actually love it. It is the Mass that I have mostly said all of my priesthood. My problems are not with the Novus Ordo, so called, but with the outrageous manipulation of the liturgy for personal or political motives. I think of liturgies with giant paper mache heads, old women dancing in flowing skirts and fat men dancing about in tight white pants, or I think of para-liturgies that feature angels roller skating to circus music. I’m not making this up. You can look this stuff up at the following sites.

Liturgical Abuse: Puppets (WCCTA 2008)

And in the next one, the men are not as fat, but they are still wearing white. Why do large liturgical men favor white when black is so slimming?

Novena Solene | Entrada da Bíblia - 3º dia - dia 05 de Outubro

I love the Mass of Paul VI. I remember once reading that the liturgy of the Latin rite is characterized by its simplicity and dignity. One is reminded of that old song, “Look What They’ve Done to My Song, Ma.”  Paper Mache dancing heads and fat guys in white pants? Dignity? Simplicity?

Still, I maintain that the simplified Mass of Paul VI offered the way intended is very beautiful. The way we priests have mangled it has lowered our standard of the sacred, with horrifying consequences. The Mass as said in many parishes is a venue for rebellion, not for worship. “For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as idolatry.” (1Sam. 15:23) I am regularly asked why a priest changes the Mass, or uses his own words or leaves part out while he puts in things that aren’t supposed to be there. It is simple. He is a rebel and “rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as idolatry.”  Three thousand years ago the prophet Samuel saw a connection between the abuse of liturgy and the demonic. Look it up: First Book of Samuel the 15^th chapter. Saul offered sacrifice which was forbidden to him and for this he lost the crown and his life, as well as the life of his son, Jonathan.

Have you ever read the Book of Wisdom, also called the Wisdom of Solomon? It’s one of those extra Catholic books. You would have read, “…through the envy of the devil came death into the world.” For what, you may ask, is the devil envious of us? He is immortal; he is immeasurably smarter and more powerful than we. This, too, is simple: Angels don’t reproduce, and the devils, who are fallen angels, can only steal our children. God shared something with us that He didn’t share with the angels. We can create something immortal.

God creates the soul, but a man and a woman in their coming together create the body, which is immortal, if Christ’s promise of resurrection is true. Humanity in its art and in its children shares the creativity of God in a way that angels cannot. Therefore, the devil hates art and beauty, for which the Catholic Mass and Catholic churches were the principle venue for a thousand years. The devil has convinced us to swap the amazing music and architecture of Catholicism for ugly buildings and banal music. The simplicity dignity and beauty of the Latin rite, both in the new mass and the old, gives way to the spectacle of the circus. But more than art, the devil hates children. They remind him that “God so loved the world.” In his diabolical envy, he has contrived to create sterile art and sterile marriages. Abortion, artificial birth control, rampant divorce, same sex marriage, on-line and off line pornography. They are the utensils with which the devil devours children and we feed them to him as surely as our forbears threw their children into the fires of the demon-god Moloch, all for the sake of our well being and prosperity.

Why do I lump divorce in with all those other more clearly anti-reproductive activities? Simple: Children need stable homes in which to flourish. Even faithful marriages between men and women who cannot themselves have children strengthen the dignity and reverence in which marriage and the home are held. If the sacredness of the bond between a man and a woman can be cheapened, then children may be born, but in their hearts they usually can’t flourish.

The Latin word sacrament means an oath to the death. We have reduced it to a show, a kind of entertainment, and shamefully this is not just done at the new Mass, but I have seen Tridentine Masses where it is all about the show. The degradation of one sacrament, the breaking of one solemn oath hardens our hearts. We receive the Body and Blood or the Lord without reverence, without “discerning the body” as St. Paul says, and we likewise have no trouble breaking the oath that gives life in the flesh after we have cheapened the oath which gives us life in the spirit.  I cannot fathom how a person can think that the pleasures of what is most certainly an aberrant, use of our bodies, even if it is pleasurable to some, can be compared to the sacred, life-giving secret shared by a husband and wife.

I said earlier, the devil hates good art and the devil hates children, He has tried to teach us that sexual desirability is the ultimate beauty. We go to the gym, the diet clinic and the plastic surgeon to keep ourselves physically desirable. All the while we remain morally and spiritually weak and deformed. We are cheap paintings in expensive frames. We are fifty dollar haircuts on seventy five cent heads. When we mistake the paint, the hair dye and the varnish for beauty, we are fools. True beauty lifts us to God. False beauty fixes our eyes only on our desires. True beauty makes us better. False beauty makes us less. False beauty ties us up in our own needs and fantasies. It fixes our gaze on the filth beneath our feet, not on the stars over our heads.

How can what the modern world calls love ever be compared with that love that brings new life? The disordered desires of the modern marriage movement bring nothing but passing pleasures that are soon devoured by boredom and regret. I know three things that are beautiful: a simple Mass, an old couple and a newborn baby.

A simple Mass simply said, lifts the heart and mind to God. A simple Mass doesn’t entertain. It brings heaven down to earth and earth to heaven in the flesh and blood of the Savior made present on the altar.

The charm of a young couple in love cannot be compared to the beauty of an old man and woman, who after a life of faithfulness walk hand in hand with each other and call each other by names like “sweetheart,” or “Mama” and “Papa”. 

And more beautiful still is that ultimate work of art, fashioned by the Maker of all things in a woman’s sacred womb: a child. Is there anything more wonderful than that little bundle of hope that reminds us of God’s great love? We have trashed the churches and murdered the children, all in the name of progress, freedom and tolerance.

We have lost our minds.

The Rev. Know-it-all

Letter to Lee Turjiste, continued…. part 2

Letter to Lee Turjiste, continued….

I am genuinely torn. I’m not kidding. I am torn between my desire to bring people to a saving knowledge of Christ and a desire to protect the integrity of the faith. Perhaps a few more horror stories will illustrate my dilemma.

A while back I was offering a funeral mass, and once again there wasn’t a person in the entire crowd I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. A young woman came up to receive communion in the assembly line that marchers quickly past the celebrant now that we no longer kneel for Holy Communion. I said “Body of Christ” and gave her the consecrated Communion Host. She smiled, took it and walked away turning it over in her hand, I followed her and asked, “Pardon me but have you made your first Holy Communion?” She looked at me and in all innocence and said. “Oh, I’m Jewish!”  I said, “Perhaps you should give me that back,” referring to the Host. By that time a small crowd of young people had gathered by the coffin. I whispered “Perhaps you shouldn’t receive communion if you haven’t made your first Holy Communion. How about I give you each a blessing?” They seemed fine with it. Communion proceeded until an older fellow at the end of the communion line slapped one hand into the other and loudly said, “I’ve made my First Communion!!!”  He was quite obviously displeased. I got two letters in the following week. One reamed me out for having embarrassed the family in front of its guests; the other complimented me for having the courage to do what I did. 

Not long after that, another funeral was offered by a visiting priest who was more to that family’s taste than I was. Again Holy Communion and some black eye-lined, multi-pierced, young Goths stood in the assembly line to receive Holy Communion. They also looked at the odd little cracker they had just been given, I asked the first two if they were Catholic and had received First Holy Communion. They asked, “What’s that?” I said, “I’ll just take that from you.” So the far more tolerant celebrant and I got into a kind of rhythm. He would say, “Body of Christ,” I would say “I’ll take that.” “Body of Christ,” “I’ll take that.”  “Body of Christ” “I’ll take that.” This went on for a while and no one seems to have been aware that it was not normal procedure. 

After that I decided when I got a crowd that was clearly unaware of what Catholicism is, I would make a bit of an explanation about Holy Communion and who should receive it, namely a practicing Catholic who has received his First Holy Communion. If married, one should be in a valid sacramental marriage and believe himself to be in a state of grace.

  

Remember the circus Mass where the distribution of Holy Communion was highlighted by a cursing clown?  At that funeral I took one look at the crowd of people with orange and purple hair milling about and thought I should explain the meaning of Catholic Communion. Communion went quite smoothly, except of course for a music stand swinging, cursing clown and a general melee in the sanctuary. I must admit to having been a little shaken by having had to dodge flying musical apparatus and comments about my mother’s marital status during the distribution of Holy Communion.  

After the Mass, however, a woman came up to see me. I thought she was going to commiserate. It seems however that she was unfazed by the wrestling match that had just finished. She told me that she had been a Catholic all her life. This was the first time she had not gone to Communion. She wanted to express her solidarity with those oppressed people whom I had denied Holy Communion. She said that Jesus, the pope and the Cardinal, whom she new well, would never have done such a thing. She was furious that I had “bifurcated the community”.  

I was taken aback! I was not sure at first if bifurcating in public was moral or even legal. I looked at her and said “Thank you. I am so happy for you.” She said, “You didn’t understand me. I am upset by what you said.” I said, “I understand. Perhaps it’s time for you to be a little upset by something a priest says.” 

I imagine that I will be doing time in purgatory for that one, but it just sort of slipped out. I am still scratching my head that she believed I should offer Communion to someone who was casting imprecations on me and the bereaved family.  

I have had groomsmen slip the Eucharist into the pocket of a rented tux, which I retrieved; I have had to chase people down the aisle at Midnight Christmas Mass as they slipped the host into their pocket. I think that was the same midnight Mass after which I found a certain product that can be bought at truck stops for hygienic purposes only and that is now distributed cheerfully at government high-schools. All I could think as I swept the church at 2:00 a.m. was how very disappointed some young man was going to be this Christmas.  The church is crowded for grand events with people who have no idea what church is for.  The only model they have to go by is the movie theater and what they’ve seen on TV. So they think this is a performance. 

This brings me to one of my favorite topics: the eulogy. I endured a marvelous eulogy not long ago. A couple of young men got up and decided to share about Uncle Moe. They did a kind of tandem spontaneous roast. It seems that Uncle Moe could really hold his liquor and that sports was his life. We are not supposed to allow eulogies at Mass. The sacramentary allows for a few brief words of remembrance about the faith of the deceased. I suppose sports and liquor were pretty much Uncle Fred’s spiritual life. It took his nephews, Larry and Curley, twenty minutes to say it however. I wonder what Uncle Moe would have thought had he known that his long life would have been summarized in two short words: sports and booze. Rest in peace Uncle Fred, I hope Uncle Moe haunts them. 

I heard another amazing eulogy a while back. An in-law came up after Communion to act as master of ceremonies for the after Communion speakers. After some adults spoke, each grandchild was invited to come up read a goodbye letter to grandpa. “I wuv you Pop-Pop and I am so sowwy dat I will neva see you again becauze you are dead. Hugs and Kisses, Baby Snookums.” This went on for one whole hour. The après-Communion show was longer than the funeral Mass and sermon combined. A celebrant must do his best not to stare at the 20 something bleached-blond granddaughter wearing the very little black dress with the black stiletto heels as she struggles with the second reading or sings an a cappella solo of grandpa’s favorite song which is usually some show tune or a football fight song. She minces up to the sanctuary, looks at the celebrant, takes the gum out of her mouth, points to the pulpit and says “Over there?” the celebrant nods, looks away and with great embarrassment and stares at the floor.  

If one tries to limit or heaven help us, forbid the après-Communion roast/eulogy, there is hell to pay. Undertakers look distressed, people are enraged and they counter with, “Well, other churches allow it.”  There is invariably the letter to the bishop about the substandard performance of the celebrant if he has any standards at all.

One more story. There was a funeral Mass here some years back at which the family insisted that the organist play “This old man, he played one, he played nick back on my thumb...” as the final musical selection. The organist questioned the wisdom of the song, but the priest, a kind old Irishman, in the mold of Barry Fitzgerald said, “Well, if it’s the family’s wish we should probably respect that.”  The organist tried to “church up the song” with a few minor chords and baroque flourishes, but it was clearly recognizable, and the whole congregation chimed in singing what had been planned as an instrumental. As the coffin rolled down the main aisle the congregation joined in the chorus of the beloved children’s song, “This old man went rolling home!” And so he did.

This is the Roman Liturgy? I have given my life for the privilege of offering the holy sacrifice of the Mass. Why should I have to put up with people who confuse the whole business with a high school assembly presentation? The amazing thing about this is that I am expected to do this for people whom I have never seen before and will never see again. The reason is simple.  I have to put up with it for one reason: I must be PASTORAL. 

Heaven forefend that I should ever discourage anyone from liking the Catholic Church. Jesus never said anything unpleasant to anyone.  We put up with the debasement of things that we supposedly hold sacred on the grounds that it is pastoral, forgetting that forbidden fruit is the sweetest. We somehow think that if we are just nice enough, they will all come back to church and the church will be full and the world will become truly Christian. We are like the heart-broken boy friend who says to himself, “I know it’s 3 a.m., but if I just call her cell phone one more time, perhaps she’ll pick up and I can convince her that I really love her and she’ll come back to me and we’ll be happy forever.” 

This is what the world calls “loser.”  

Next week, On to weddings!  (Oh, no! Not again)