Why Do We Do That?
A Catechesis on the Mass
The proclamation of the Gospel is the climax of the Liturgy of the Word. Having listened to the First Reading from the Old Testament we saw how God had been at work, forming the Jews to be His people by teaching them His Laws, so that they might learn to trust Him and eventually to love Him. The Second Reading was taken from letters written by the Apostles to their young Christian communities. The Church gives us this extra reading, which is not necessarily related in theme to the 1st Reading or the Gospel, so that we might remember that the Christian faith has come to us from people who were eye witnesses to the life and teaching of Jesus. Furthermore, with these readings we are being taught by the Apostles themselves, which at the same time highlights one of the core pillars of the Church - that she is of Apostolic origin!
But the chief lessons on Christian living come to us from Jesus Himself, and therefore the solemn reading of the Gospel takes pride of place amongst all these readings. It is accompanied with signs of reverence: its proclamation is preceded by an acclamation, and at Sunday and other special Masses it is read to the accompaniment of candles and incense. The priest who acts in the Person of Christ in the liturgy is the one to read this sacred text, to help all understand that when the Gospel is read, it is Jesus Himself who speaks to His people. The people in their turn, stand to listen, as a sign of reverent attention.
I have often been asked, “Father, how late is too late for Mass?” This question acknowledges implicitly that it is desirable to be present for the whole duration of the Mass to fulfil the Sunday Obligation. Given that the Gospel is the pinnacle of the first part of the Mass – the Liturgy of the Word – many will say that we ought to be there at least to hear the Gospel.
Interestingly, the Church does not set a ‘cut-off’ time, at which point only those who are present from then on can present themselves for Communion or say they have been to Mass. Why not? we might ask. This is a good example where the Church’s law is very practical and also understanding of the curve-balls we encounter in life. Many things can come up, especially in family life, that can prevent us being on time for the beginning of Mass, and so the Church’s law accommodates this.
However, without an imposed a cut-off line, the responsibility is all the more on our shoulders. It should not be the norm for us to arrive late for Mass. “If we are late because of circumstances beyond our control or because of essential responsibilities, then we can be sure we have still fulfilled our obligation. If, however, we are late because of a lack of caring about getting to Mass,”*or have allowed ourselves to be preoccupied with other activities, then we have certainly not fulfilled our Mass obligation.
The question should not be “when is too late” but, “why am I late?” Furthermore, could I perhaps make a greater effort to organise myself and/or my family to arrive on time for Mass?
* www.catholic.com/qa/how-late-is-too-late-for-mass#
Further Reading ...
The Sign of the Cross, then the Penitential Act, Gloria, and Collect make up the Introductory Rites. After the Collect, all are seated for the Liturgy of the Word. This takes up the bulk of the first half of the Mass. The First Reading is carefully chosen from the Old Testament following the theme of the Gospel (except during the Easter Season, when it is taken from the Acts of the Apostles).
The Church has done this very deliberately to demonstrate the profound interconnection that exists between Old and New Testaments. St. Augustine (†430AD) once said, “The New Testament is concealed in the Old, and the Old Testament is revealed in the New” (Catechising of the Uninstructed 4:8). We will fail to understand what Jesus and His Apostles teach in the New Testament if we are ignorant of what Moses and the Prophets spoke of in the Old. At the same time though, the Old Testament remains incomplete, in fact the deep meaning of the lessons contained there will remain obscured without the light that comes with knowledge of Christ’s life and teaching. Thus, in the liturgy we read of those events or instructions from the past that foreshadow the life of Christ in the Gospel.
In a sense then, this part of the liturgy inserts us into the history of the Jewish people who were taught and guided to know the ways of God through the Law and Prophets. As we listen to the 1st Reading and then join in the Responsorial Psalm, we too are being prepared for the fullness of truth that Christ will reveal in the Gospel.
Further Reading ...
Our journey through the Mass brings us now to the Collect (here pronounced collect, not collect), the Opening Prayer of the Mass. Up to this stage, priest and people have acted together with almost the same words and gestures. With the Collect however, the liturgy reaches a distinctive moment where the distinction between the lay faithful and the ordained priest is clearly marked, and the different ways in which each participates in the Mass is notably seen.
The Faithful participate as the Body of Christ; His members who are joined to Him through the sacrament of baptism, and thus made one. Their uniform actions during the Mass symbolise this, and it is thus very important that one’s actions at Mass do not break this visible unity. The priest however, while a member of Christ’s faithful through baptism, has been set apart through priestly ordination to celebrate the sacraments in the person of Christ for the salvation of all.
In the liturgy then, the priest does not pray in his own name but, in the Person of Christ he intercedes for the whole Church. The Collect is the prayer that literally collects all the private intentions of those gathered and presents them to God the Father. The priest extends his hands and says, Let us pray, pausing briefly so that all can gather their private intentions before he, with hands extended again now gives voice to them in the formal words and gestures of this prayer.
Throughout the course of the liturgy then, the priest alone is permitted to extend his hands as he prays, as this gesture symbolises his priestly role of intercession.
Further Reading ...
The Gloria is the great hymn of praise in the liturgy. It is like a chain of joyful acclamations that burst from our hearts (or at least, this is what it ought to be!). The first lines are taken from St. Luke’s Gospel, who tells us a great multitude of angels appeared to the shepherds on the first Christmas Eve praising God saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will. Reciting the Gloria after the Penitential Act indicates to us the real purpose of this hymn: it is the most fitting response after experiencing God’s mercy; to praise Him, to bless Him, to adore Him, to glorify Him. Thus, in the Gloria we praise God for the work of redemption. Beginning with the Incarnation, we then sing of Christ’s sacrifice and conclude with the glory of the Trinity. We praise God for sending us His Son, the Lamb of God who, having taken away the sins of the world, is now seated at the right hand of the Father to intercede for us.
The Gloria is sung/recited throughout the year, except during the penitential seasons of Advent and Lent; the two seasons in which we focus on preparing ourselves to celebrate the events we recall in this hymn. At these times we deprive ourselves of this hymn so that on the anniversary of the events of our redemption, we might sing the praises of God all the more joyfully.
Regardless then if this hymn is sung or recited, let it be a genuine act of praise coming from the depths of our hearts.
As Catholics, our outlook on life is hopeful, but not naïve; realistic and yet not cynical. Mass therefore begins with an acknowledgement of sin and personal guilt. To the uninitiated, this can seem like a dose of self-deprecation, but in reality, it is an honest self-reflection that acknowledges before God (who knows everything) the many areas and aspects of my life that are out of sync with Him. This presupposes of course, that I have accepted what God says in the Scriptures and through the Church to be true, and that I am trying to live by what He teaches. This is important, because it means when we acknowledge our guilt it is in the light of what is true, and not just against an arbitrary standard. In a sense, we are re-calibrating our conscience, evaluating ourselves in the light of truth. But it also means we are acknowledging our faults in the presence of a Person; a Person who has an infinite love for us. We therefore cry out Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy, focusing now not on our shortcomings but on His goodness that can wipe away all iniquity. The three-fold invocation to the Father (Lord), to the Son (Christ), and to the Holy Spirit (Lord) is a trust-filled plea for God’s mercy, and when it is sung in the traditional chant even evokes a sense of this mercy flowing down upon us. This part of the Mass prompts us to honestly admit our inadequacies, so that we can confidently abandon ourselves to God’s mercy.
The Catholic faith presents a rather exulted view of the human person. Drawing on the Scriptures the Church teaches that every human person is made in the image and likeness of God and that this innate dignity can never be destroyed or lost. Moreover, Christians are further exulted by Baptism wherein they become children of God and, in the words of St. Paul, “temples of the Holy Spirit” (1Cor. 6:19). However, this view must not be isolated from the real lived experience of what it means to be human. Along with this goodness, in each one of us there is the presence of selfishness, pride, and a whole host of vices that threaten to undermine the good. This is why Mass commences with the Penitential Act: an acknowledgement of sin. Although we try to do good, very often we fail, and not just fail, but even choose to do what we know to be wrong in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do. But God is goodness itself, and so the only way to approach Him is to freely step out into the light of this goodness, to acknowledge my faults so that He might take them away. This part of the Mass is a powerful reminder that to turn towards God and to follow His ways requires a turning away from sin; not a once off conversion, but a constant reorientation of the heart that rectifies our intentions to be faithful to Him.
In the past, after the priest greeted the people with, The Lord be with you, the response was, and also with you.Unfortunately though, this was a rather poor translation of the original Latin et cum spiritu tuo, because this part of the Mass is not simply an exchange of greetings as done in ordinary conversation. Theologian and Biblical scholar Edward Sri explains this response as follows: “When a man is ordained a priest, the Holy Spirit comes upon him in a unique way, enabling him to perform the sacred rites of the Mass and consecrate the Eucharist. By responding, And with your spirit,we acknowledge the Spirit’s activity through the priest during the sacred Liturgy. We are referring to the “spirit” of the priest, the very core of his being, where he has been ordained to offer the sacrifice of the Mass. Indeed, we are acknowledging that since God works through the priest who is offering the Mass, ultimately it is Jesus Christ who is the head of the community gathered for the Liturgy, and it is His Spirit who is the primary actor in the Liturgy, regardless who the particular priest celebrating Mass may be.”* This response at the beginning of Mass, again at the Gospel, at the beginning of the Preface, by the Sign of Peace and before the Final Blessing reminds us that this is no ordinary gathering; that the Holy Spirit working through the priest brings us into the very presence of God.
*www.catholiceducation.org/en/culture/and-with-your-spirit.html
Further Reading ...
After making the Sign of the Cross, the priest greets the gathered community saying, the Lord be with you. This is a profoundly biblical greeting, used in both Old and New Testaments, although, with a key difference. In the Old Testament, God assured His people of His presence through the mediation of angels. Think for instance of Gideon who was greeted by the angel with the words, the Lord is with you. In the New Testament this greeting is also used, but this time by the Apostles writing to their young Christian communities. St. Paul’s letters will often begin with this or a similarly worded introduction. The shift in who uses this greeting is significant. The Apostles in the New Testament speak of the Lord’s presence because they were now the ambassadors for Christ, speaking not just about Him but in His very name (cf. 2Cor. 5:20). Their successors today in the ordained ministry also share in this grace and so continue to spread this peace as they remind the faithful of the Lord’s presence in the Church. Every time we celebrate the liturgy the Lord is present and the priest greets us with this apostolic, indeed angelic greeting, to remind us of this truth. Let this prompt us to be aware that the Lord is with us – now in the liturgy and when we go about our daily tasks.
Whenever Catholics gather for prayer, they almost always begin with the Sign of the Cross. It is the first prayer we learnt as little children; holding our right hands, our mothers carefully traced this sacred sign from head to chest, and from left to right shoulder saying, “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” To pronounce those few words while making this action is to remember the essential elements of our faith. Firstly, God is one – which is why we say in the name of, not in the names of. At the same time though, God is three divine persons – which is why we sayFather … Son … Holy Spirit. The Trinity is the central mystery of the Christian Faith and every time we gather for prayer, we gather not in our own individual names, but in the Name of God. Secondly, we trace upon ourselves the Cross. The life and love of the Trinity is poured out upon us through the Cross. The good we do, the evil we overcome, the suffering we endure is always by the power of the Cross of Christ, which is the great sign of God’s victory over sin and death. Whenever we make the Sign of the Cross we recall this mystery, and place ourselves under its protection.
Why do we have to come to church on Sunday? We have undoubtedly encountered the objection of many Catholics who say that they can pray better in the midst of nature than sitting in a building with other people. After all, God is everywhere, is He not? God certainly is everywhere however, He is only sacramentally present in the church building. Moreover, the obligation is actually to participate in Mass on Sunday. This is a development of the 3rd Commandment of the Decalogue where Christians – since the time of the Apostles – recognising the obligation to keep holy the Sabbath, understood that this should really be the day of the Resurrection, i.e. Sunday. Furthermore, the highest form of prayer is the celebration of the Mass: the solemn re-presentation of Christ’s self-sacrifice offered in perfect love and obedience to His Heavenly Father that redeemed the world. To participate in the Mass is to worship God with the perfect sacrifice of His Son. There is no problem finding a nice tree to sit under to pray there in our own way, indeed we ought to find our own ways to pray daily, but this is no substitute for the Mass. To come to Sunday Mass is to worship God as He desires it, and this obedience on our part is the greatest prayer we can offer Him.