First Communion in the Telegraph

I would like to call your attention, in case you might have missed it, to the article on First Communion in the March 6, 2009 issue of The Catholic Telegraph. It has been five years since I raised concerns about the way that the First Communion liturgy was done at my parish. At that time, I was told that we had a dispensation from the Archdiocese to deviate from the standard rubrics. The content of the article in The Catholic Telegraph seems to indicate that the Archdiocese might have rethought its position. Both the director of the archdiocesan Worship Office and the director of the archdiocesan Office of Evangelization and Catechesis are quoted. The specific paragraphs (with emphasis added by me) from the article on pages 12 and 13 are reproduced below.

One issue that Karen Kane, director of the archdiocesan Worship Office, says her office often addresses with parents that seems to distract them from the sacrament itself is “the desire on their part to ‘involve’ the children more in the Mass, for example singing a song after Communion or serving as lectors. In our diocesan sacramental guidelines (spelled out in the document Sacraments for Young People), and from a Worship Office point of view, we strongly discourage these types of practices,“ she said. “The reception of Holy Communion should be the focus and should be where parents and catechists spent their time and energy in preparing the children. What is most important is helping the children understand what it means to receive the body and blood of Christ. That’s the focus.”

Also important for religious educators and parents to remember, said Ken Gleason, director of the archdiocesan Office of Evangelization and Catechesis, is that first Communion should be held during a regularly scheduled Mass, and a special Mass should not be scheduled. The reasoning behind this, he explained, is that the children are joining the Eucharistic community, and “it is hard to celebrate becoming part of the community when the community isn’t present.”

There is not ritual for first Communion, added Gleason. “While there are special rituals for baptism, confirmation, etc. . . the fact that the only ritual for first Communion is the usual rubrics for Mass tells us that we should not add anything to the Mass. It also implies that the second, third and fourth and so on, reception of the Eucharist ought to be just as special as the first reception of the Eucharist.”

He believes that the efforts of many parishes and parents to “make first Communion special” can detract from the meaning of the occasion.

“It means they don’t really appreciate what we are doing at Mass,” he said. “It would be impossible to come up with anything more special than what we are already doing.”

“I wish we could help parents to see that we are bringing their children to the table, that they are now initiated into the Eucharistic community, which has the honor and privilege of celebrating the sacrifice of the Lord and our subsequent salvation, including the intimate experience of Christ through the reception of His body and blood,” Gleason said. “There is no cute song or white dress that could top that.”

I know that our second graders put a lot of effort into singing a song, complete with hand motions, after Communion. The Archdiocese says they strongly discourage it. Our parish has a special First Communion mass in the afternoon. The Archdiocese says it should be during a regularly scheduled mass. During the mass, those making their First Communion gather around the altar during the Eucharistic Prayer and consecration. The Archdiocese says that we should follow the usual rubrics for the Mass, which forbid this. I’ve brought this to the attention of our Pastor and our Coordinator of Religious Education. The ball is in their court to either run with or ignore.

Let Us Make Three Booths

In his book, Jesus of Nazareth, Pope Benedict XVI discusses two ways of looking at the Transfiguration of Christ on Mt. Tabor. The first, and the one that he clearly favors, is that the event occurs within the context of the calendar of Jewish festival. One suggestion is that Peter’s confession occurs on Yom Kippur, the feast of atonement, and that the Transfiguration occurs during Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, which follows five days later. Another suggestion is that the both events occur within the Feast of Tabernacles, which lasted an entire week. The Transfiguration would then occur on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles, “which was both its high point and the synthesis of its inner meaning.”

Both interpretations have in common the idea that Jesus’ Transfiguration is linked with the Feast of Tabernacles. We will see that this connection actually comes to light in the text itself and that it makes possible a deeper understanding of the whole event. In addition to the specific elements of these accounts, we may observe here a fundamental trait of Jesus’ life, which receives particularly thorough treatment in John’s Gospel. As we saw in chapter 8, the great events of Jesus’ life are inwardly connected with the Jewish festival calendar. They are, as it were, liturgical events in which the liturgy, with its remembrance and expectation, becomes reality—becomes life. This life then leads back to the liturgy and from the liturgy seeks to become life again.

The Jewish liturgy saw its fulfillment in Christ. Our liturgy, makes present to us the actions of Christ. Liturgy is not just a memorial; it brings about a spiritual reality. The sacraments are not just symbols, they are efficacious signs.

To understand what happened at the Transfiguration, we need to understand the context of the events, which the Pope suggests is the Feast of Tabernacles. From Companion to the Calendar, A Guide to the Saints and Mysteries of the Christian Calendar, on Sukkot, The Festival of Booths:

At Sukkot, people obey the biblical command to live for seven days in huts. Each family or congregation constructs a shelter, usually with wooden slats and boughs from trees. (In Hebrew, this is called a sukkah. The plural of sukkah is sukkot.) As they build and decorate these beautiful booths, the people recall the 40 years when the Jews, wandering in the desert, put together sukkot each evening. . . .

Jewish mystics taught that the ancestors, beginning with Sarah and Abraham, come to visit the sukkah each evening. According to tradition, the Messiah will come at Sukkot and welcome all creation into God’s sukkah.

So according to some Jewish mystics, the feast of booths would have a Messianic fulfillment. That gives some explanation to the seventh chapter of John’s Gospel, where Jesus is reluctant to attend the feast in Jerusalem because his time has not yet come. Being an observant Jew, however, he does go later, not publicly but in private. The events of John 7 probably take place a year or more before the Transfiguration. With the Transfiguration coming six days after Peter’s confession, his suggestion to build booths for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah makes some sense.

What is most interesting to me, however, is Benedict's assertion that the Jewish calendar and liturgy were pivotal in the events of the New Testament. Jesus completed his mission in a liturgical context. It is not unreasonable to assume that our mission as Christians also occurs within a liturgical context. The liturgy is not secondary; it is central. The liturgy is life!

Lectionary Logic

One of the common digs on Catholics is that they don't read their Bibles. The common rejoinder is that, with the three year cycle for the Sunday mass readings and the two year cycle for the weekday mass readings, Catholics actually hear most of the Bible every three years. Now, I admit that most Catholics don't follow the weekday mass readings, let alone attend weekday mass. But even with just the Sunday mass readings, they end up hearing most of the New Testament.

Somebody somewhere has got to know what logic was applied in deciding how to arrange the readings for ordinary time. There are useful little charts laying out the readings at the Roman Catholic Lectionary Website. If you look at Ordinary Time - Year 1, you see that in the first nine weeks of Ordinary Time, the gospel marches through Mark, from chapter 1 through chapter 12. Halfway through week 7 this year, we start Lent, and then Easter, before resuming with week 9 after Pentecost. What happened to week 8?

Also note that for the first reading at weekday mass, the first through fourth week of Ordinary Time steps through the letter to the Hebrews. Weeks five and six feature Genesis, from creation through Noah. Weeks seven and eight has the book of Sirach, and week 9 features Tobit. (Note: if you're using a Protestant Bible, you might not find the books of Sirach and Tobit. They are among the deuterocanonical books that were rejected by Martin Luther.) But wait! Saturday of week six is not Genesis, but Hebrews. Why was Hebrew 11:1-7 inserted between Genesis and Sirach? Why wasn't that reading back in week 3, where it belonged? [Update: I should have read the passage before posting. It references back to Cain, Enoch, and Noah from Genesis. I suppose there was some logic in this case. Still, it looks out of place when just the book, chapter, and verse are listed in a table.]

Somebody somewhere knows what logic was applied that ended up in this schedule. Do you think maybe they could clue in the rest of us?

Noah Lett on the Liturgy of the Hours

On February 2, former Lutheran Minister Noah Lett was the guest on Marcus Grodi's show, The Journey Home (mp3 audio available here). Noah has been on the show before and is now employed by EWTN as a theological consultant. His conversion is a bit more mystical than most: an encounter with St. Bernadette Soubirous (the Lourdes visionary) in a dream features prominently.

At about 34 minutes into the broadcast, Marcus notes that he has discovered that sometimes, after a person has been Catholic for a while, the things that become most important to them about the Catholic Church might be different from the things that originally brought them in. He then asks Noah whether, in the ten years since he originally appeared on the program, that has happened to him, whether he has made any new discoveries that have become important to him as a Catholic.

I just loved Noah's response.

Well, I can talk about something very recent that has been a new discovery. When I came into the Church, I was trained at two seminaries in biblical studies with New Testament emphasis, and so I was inclined to think of everything in terms of exegetical work. I didn’t read anything that I didn’t think exegetically about it. Well, one of the things that my friends before I became Catholic and afterward tried to interest me in were the Liturgy of the Hours. You know, and you read like the morning office – I’m used to things highly woven together like any gospel story like, say, the wedding at Cana. It’s all highly woven together and tightly done so that it rewards a certain kind of looking for those things. Well, the Morning Prayer is anything but highly woven together. It’s got a lot of little pieces that are sort of collaged together. I was not prepared to read that and do the Liturgy of the Hours when I came into the Church because I was still looking for it to be like the Bible.

Here recently about four months ago I received the gift of the Liturgy of the Hours. I realized that I had changed, and that the Church, besides giving me the Bible, has also given me the Liturgy of the Hours. The Liturgy of the Hours make me aware – it’s sort of like this. When you read the Bible, you can read it, and there can be a difference between doing it and thinking about it. But the Liturgy of the Hours, you’re either doing it, or you’re not, you know, because you say those things. Yeah, you can be studying them academically, but everybody sees that you’re not saying the Liturgy of the Hours, all you’re doing is studying the Psalms or something. But what you realize is that the Liturgy of the Hours, I do them. I say these Psalms. When you do exegesis you think, “Do I have an adequate theory that combines together the two testaments so that I can answer all of the problems that are between the two testaments so you might avoid some of those passages that make it difficult to join the two testaments.” The Liturgy of the Hours don’t ask you that. They put the Old Testament and the New Testament together like a Psalm or something and say “Read this.” You don’t have to understand how they go together to
experience the goodness it brings you.

I finally, after twenty years, I realized this! Finally, I realized this! I realized that when you do exegesis you go, “Yeah, Dei Verbum says that I should always make sure that I read the passage in its historical environment at the time.” And you think, yeah, that’s a lot of hard work. The Liturgy of the Hours takes Psalm 22 and doesn’t say, “Do you have adequate historical knowledge of the exegetical and linguistic historical background of this?” It just says, “Read it!” And it says, “You don’t have to know all that to do this, because the words will become yours, and there’ll be a meeting between you and the Psalm 23 person.” Everyone knows Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd.” How many people stop and think, “Oh, I can’t read this, because I have no idea what the shepherd was like, you know, back when they wrote this.” You just do it, and you experience the goodness of it. This is a great gift.

I love saying Morning and Evening Prayer, and I try to do the ones in between. Not because somebody says, “OK, you better do this.” It’s because it expresses my heart.

Sometimes people wonder, “How is it the case that you can do all those Catholic, liturgical, external things?” Well, let me ask you this: if your wife is a good wife, does your good wife say, “I don’t want any of the externals of love, I only want you to internally feel love for me?” No. Try do get by with that on Valentine’s Day, you know, and see where you sleep. My wife wants me to be internally in love with her and externally show it. What if I were to say, “Wife, we’ve been doing things, we’ve been doing Valentine’s Day here for thirty years (we’ve been married for thirty years, me and my wife), so uh, maybe this is too external a form thing, we don’t want to do this, we want to do it another way.” My wife would go, “Are you nuts? I want my candy! I want my other stuff on Valentine’s Day! Give it to me!” Your good wife will say to you. What about on her birthday? Can you say, “We’ve been doing your birthday, and you say to your wife maybe lowly that we’ve been doing this for so long, maybe this is external ritual, we shouldn’t do it anymore.”

Our Lord is no less a person than my wife. The Liturgy of the Hours give me a way of expressing my love. I do not always know what to say! But I find these words. When I realize that Jesus said all the Psalms – He said the Psalms, they were his words. He found that he could say these Psalms. I’m saying the words that Jesus said, and I’m experiencing the goodness that comes. This is wonderful. I mean this is a new gift to me, after twenty years.

Missing Passages

Part of the fun of following the scheduled mass readings is that you notice when passages are skipped over. For example, on January 18, the Second Sunday of Ordinary Time, the first reading was the call of Samuel the prophet. We heard how Samuel was sleeping in the temple when the Lord called him. At first, he thought it was Eli calling him, until Eli realized it was the Lord and told Samuel to answer, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” Samuel did so, and grew up with the Lord beside him. The verses that we heard were 1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19.

When I see a verse callout like that, I usually wonder what happens in verses 11-18? In the missing verses, the Lord tells Samuel that Eli and his sons will be punished because Eli is not restraining his sons in their iniquity. The next morning Samuel reluctantly tells Eli everything.

I understand that, for Sunday readings, the first reading complements the Gospel, which on that day was the call of the disciples Andrew and Simon Peter. So in this case, it wasn’t so much that the passage about Eli and his sons was omitted as much as it was that the part about Samuel growing in the presence of the Lord after his prophetic call was added onto the end.

It’s not as clear regarding the weekday mass readings for the Third Week of Ordinary Time, from Hebrews chapter 10. That makes it a lot more interesting. The readings were verses 1-10 on Tuesday, 11-18 on Wednesday, 19-25 on Thursday, and 32-39 on Friday. Wait a second – what happened to 26-31? Let’s have a look:

For if we sin deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful prospect of judgment, and a fury of fire which will consume the adversaries. A man who has violated the law of Moses dies without mercy at the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment do you think will be deserved by the man who has spurned the Son of God, and profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and outraged the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” And again, “The Lord will judge his people.” It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

Wow! Yikes, even! That’s explosive. It’s only by placing this passage squarely within the rest of the canon of scripture that we can temper the apparent meaning. And I can only suppose that somebody concluded that there was a danger of misinterpreting the passage; therefore, it was not included in the schedule of mass readings.

The Catholic Church teaches that we should use three criteria when interpreting Sacred Scripture. First, we must "be especially attentive to the content and unity of the whole scripture." In other words, a single passage does not stand on its own. It is a part of the whole canon of scripture and must be interpreted in the light of the rest of canon. Second, we must "Read the Scripture within the living Tradition of the whole Church." If your interpretation of a passage leads you to disagree with the infallible teaching of the Magisterium of the Church, then you're not interpreting the passage correctly. This rule requires an understanding of both what the Church teaches and the degree of infallibility that a given teaching enjoys. Finally, when interpreting scripture, we must "be attentive to the analogy of faith." In other words, if two passages seem to contradict each other, you're not interpreting them correctly. See paragraphs 112-114 in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

I’d love to know if anybody’s every heard a good sermon or homily addressing Hebrews 10:26-31. I’m almost curious enough to buy the Ignatius Study Bible or the St. Josephs CD Set.

More Calendar Confusion

After being surprised by the Memorial of Saint Timothy and Saint Titus on Monday, I duly noted that today was the Memorial of Saint Thomas Aquinas. I even noted to the lovely Amy last night that, even though today was an obligatory memorial, I was going to read the gospel for the Ordinary Time weekday, just for continuity’s sake. I thought that my calendar confusion was over. I was wrong.

For Morning Prayer, I found that I had to flip to practically every page in the book! The Memorial page directed me to the Common for Doctors of the Church, which directed my to the Common for priests (I think—I’m typing this from memory), which directed me to the Psalmody for the first Sunday. I didn’t immediately see the Invitatory Antiphon, so I flipped to the third Wednesday and used that one. It was only later that I found the correct antiphon in the Commons section.

My daily gospel meditation is still a day behind, and both the USCCB site and Food for the Journey used the readings for the OT weekday.

It seems that even if I made myself a calendar to keep this all straight, I still wouldn’t be on the same page as everyone else.

The Latin Mass

I admit that Latin holds an attraction for me. The idea that a liturgy celebrated in Rome could be celebrated the same way and in the same language in Ohio is simply wonderful to ponder. However, I grew up with mass in the vernacular, and for the most part, I think that it’s a good thing. I especially like the revisions to the readings (i.e., Old Testament, Psalm, New Testament, Gospel, along with a three year cycle for Sunday readings and a two year cycle for weekday readings) that were made in aftermath of the Second Vatican Council.

I have never been to a Tridentine mass, so any impressions that I have of one are based solely on what I’ve read, and most of what I’ve read applies to the degree of reverence that was involved. Reverence at mass is a good thing. The question at hand is whether the use of Latin produces reverence or, conversely, the use of English causes a loss of reverence.

The problem with Latin is that very few people are fluent in it. I like a little Latin in my liturgy. Singing the Agnus Dei with its miserere nobis or the Tantum Ergo gives me a little warm and fuzzy feeling in the soul (although as I’ve said before and will say again, it’s not about feelings). That said, I get tongue-tied trying to recite the Credo or the Pater Noster, and there’s little comprehension between the syllables coming from my mouth and the meaning tied to them. If the readings or the Eucharistic Prayer were in Latin, I would have little choice but to sit there dumbly, or stick my nose in a missal and try to keep up. I would need the bells and elevation to let me know when the consecration had happened. I don’t think that facilitates full, active, and conscious participation. I certainly would not want to see a return to the days when people prayed the rosary during mass.

That said, there are so many things that have become standard in the modern mass that I would love to see reversed. For example, I like the idea of the celebrant facing the same direction (preferably east) as the congregation and leading them in worship, rather than facing them as if performing. I love incense. I love chant. None of these things is incompatible with the modern mass.

Given a choice between a reverently said Latin mass, most of which is incomprehensible to me, and the vernacular mass as it is offered in most parishes, I would probably elect to attend the Latin mass, hoping to improve upon my own very limited ability to speak and understand Latin. However, given a choice between a Latin mass and a reverent English mass, I would opt for the English.

Our Confusing Calendar

Please don’t misunderstand me. I love the liturgical calendar employed by the Catholic Church, with its seasons, solemnities, feasts, and memorials. It’s just that, for those trying to read ahead for the mass readings or pray the Liturgy of the Hours, it can be terribly confusing.

Yesterday, for example, some parishes heard the readings for the Third Sunday of Ordinary Time, while others heard the readings for the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. When I woke up Sunday morning, I prayed the hours for the Third Sunday. However, my sister relayed to me that her parish (St. Paul’s) was holding a special vespers service because Paul is the parish patron and Sunday was his feast day, and this is the year of St. Paul. So, when I did my evening prayer, I prayed the hours for the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul.

Then, as is my new custom, before retiring I read what I thought would be today’s mass readings. Silly me, I read the readings for Monday of the Third Week of Ordinary Time. When I woke this morning, I prayed the hours for Monday, then sat at the computer to read my gospel meditation. It wasn’t the gospel I expected. The meditation that I received by email was actually for the gospel for the Third Sunday of Ordinary Time. “Hmm, they must have gotten confused,” I thought to myself. But I’m also in the habit of listening to Food for the Journey, Sr. Ann Shields’s daily radio program, and her meditation was on yet another gospel. “What’s going on?” I thought. It turns out that today is the obligatory Memorial of Saint Timothy and Saint Titus.

So, I guess I’ll be praying Evening Prayer from a different set of hours than Morning Prayer two days in a row.

I really gotta make myself a calendar to keep all this straight.

My Liturgical Focus

It’s been nearly 5-1/2 years since I put my old car out of its misery. Since then, I’ve driven a Ford Focus, which has treated me pretty well. However, that is not to say that my car is perfect. There are a number of things that disappoint me. I lost the bottom third of my rear winder defroster pretty early. A tear opened up in one of the seams of my passenger seat, but it’s hard to notice. The windshield freezes up easily, and when it gets cold, the wipers only contact at the top and bottom, leaving a large section of the windshield smeared. The radio will play MP3 files from a disc, but it won’t navigate folders, always starts at the beginning of the MP3 file (i.e., don’t try listening to a long podcast), and in shuffle mode, it always starts on the same file (thus, my Christmas CD with 50+ songs always starts with Little Drummer Boy). In addition, I’m losing lines on the display. The rear passenger window has started acting up, the lining of the cupholder comes out every time that I remove my travel mug, and the plastic casing on the passenger seat slide rail keeps coming off. Finally, even though the car is front wheel drive, it gets terrible traction on packed snow or ice.

In spite of all this, I’d probably buy another Focus. When I went car shopping back in 2003, I had two criteria that were essential: I wanted to be able to get in and out of the car without having to twist my knees around the steering column, and I wanted to be able to sit upright without feeling my hair brush the top of the cabin. As you’ve probably guessed if you don’t already know, I’m relatively tall at 6’4”. Most of the population is probably not going to have the same essential criteria as I do when shopping for a car. In addition to meeting my essential criteria, my Focus has not given me any mechanical problems. It’s never left me stranded, and it gets pretty good gas mileage. The negatives are all just minor inconveniences. I can tolerate them, as long as I have my essentials.

That’s kind of where I am with the liturgy, particularly mass (you knew I had to bring this back to the Catholic faith somehow). There are a lot of extra features that can add to or subtract from the overall experience of the liturgy, but then there are the essentials. Some things are required, some are proscribed, some words are defined and cannot be changed. I’m blessed to live in an area where we have many parishes in close proximity, and the liturgy at each has its own character due to the type of music selected, the architecture of the church, the general demeanor of the congregation, etc. Of course I have preferences, and none of the local parishes rates a perfect score on my chart. But I can accept those differences, as long as my essentials are met.

Holy mother Church gives us rules for how we conduct our public worship. It’s not hard to follow those rules, and still allow the liturgy reflect the unique character of the community. When I have multiple cars with sufficient head and leg room to choose from, then I can base my selection on the extra features. When I have multiple parishes with liturgies that adhere to the rubrics to choose from, then I can choose the location that best feeds my spiritual needs.

Resolutions From A Church Bulletin

This list of resulutions for the new year appeared in our local parish bulletin not once, but twice, once as an insert and once in the space normally reserved for comments from the pastor. I assume that means that they have his endorsement.

NEW YEARS’ RESOLUTIONS (My comments in blue.)

1. I resolve to be more welcoming to those I encounter entering and leaving Mass or other services. I hope this means before entering and after leaving the body of the church itself. Otherwise, the commotion could interfere with those trying to spend quiet moments in prayer either preparing for mass or giving thanks after mass.


2. I will arrive at least 10 minutes early so that I can prepare myself for the privilege of attending Mass and receiving the Body and Blood of Christ. And if it is necessary for the choir to practice before mass, they should finish before worshippers arrive to prepare themselves.


3. I resolve to move all the way down inside my pew so that it will be easier for others to enter my pew and I will make them feel welcome. Except, of course, for the Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion, who will have to leave their pews when the Lamb of God is sung.


4. I will not just attend Mass; I will participate in it by singing and if my sense of pitch is horrible, I will sing anyway because I am honoring my God in doing so. It's kinda hard to do this when the choir is performing numbers that nobody else can sing. I also love singing the psalm response, but it's nice when the sung psalm matches the psalm for the Sunday's readings.


5. I will listen intently to the readings and the homily and determine how I can apply the lessons they contain to my daily life and work.
   
6. I will be attentive and reverent at all times, but especially at the consecration of the bread and wine into the body and blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ.


7. If I bring my children to Mass I will ensure that they are not a distraction to those around me. If, through no fault of my own, they are, I will take them into the vestibule at the back of church or if necessary, leave the church. This is one that is oh so clear to those who don't actually have young children. My wife and I often split masses to avoid taking the baby, but when we go as a family, she gets fussy. At some ambiguous point we might decide to take her out, and usually she's fine as soon as whoever has her stands up and starts moving. I'm sure that somewhere, someone is thinking, "It's about time!" It's much easier for them than it is for us. As for our Erin, who is five and has Downs Syndrome, we sometimes keep her home, but when she wants to go to mass with her mom, we aren't going to tell her no. And if Erin is a big distraction to someone behind us, doesn't that say as much about them as it does about us?


8. If I am a server, reader, distributor, choir member or usher I will be at my assigned Mass to perform my duties. If I cannot make it, I resolve to work hard to find a substitute. I was at an 8 am mass once where six out of eight scheduled EMHCs were absent. It seemed to me that the pastor was a little miffed, and justifiably so. I think that a little discipline (not exactly what I mean, but other word seems to fit -- I think I mean more of a spelled out policy or rules) and a mandatory annual retreat for those serving liturgical roles would help.


9. Unless I have an emergency, I will not rush out of church after Mass, ignoring those around me so I can beat them out of the parking lot. Instead, I will look for opportunities to engage my fellow parishioners in conversation. But please remember that, until you've left the building, you are still in a sacred space.


10. I will not leave Mass until I have received the final blessing and sung the final song with enthusiasm.
    

Friends, this is OUR church. Let’s make it the best it can be for everyone. Yeah, it's our church, but more importantly, it's HIS Church.

A Symptom of My Disease

The liturgical celebrations of the Church are (or are supposed to be!) filled with signs that point to supernatural realities. There is a piece at Catholic Exchange today that discusses the significance of the vestments worn by priests and deacons when they celebrate the mass. I started to read it this morning before work, but I stopped less than halfway through. Why? Because the thought came to me that I was only setting myself up for more disappointment. If I know what the vestments could be teaching us, I'll only be disappointed when I note how the vestments at the masses I attend fall short.

I want to know more, but I'm afraid that I'll be happier in ignorance.

A Gift And A Curse

Our family enjoys watching the television show Monk. Even little Erin gets excited when we all sit down to watch the latest Monk disk from Netflix. For those who might not be familiar with the show, the premise is that Adrian Monk is a former detective who is now a consultant for the police department. The catch is that he has an obsessive-compulsive disorder. Everything has to be arranged just so, and his fear of everything makes him practically helpless without his assistant. However, his attention to details that others overlook make him brilliant at solving crimes. In several episodes during the first six seasons of the show, people have marveled to him that he has a real gift, to which he replies, "and a curse . . . mostly a curse."

I can't help but wonder whether I know too much for my own good, or not enough, particularly with respect to the liturgy. I took a class on liturgy and prayer a few years ago, and it was surprisingly good. If nothing else, it helped to elevate my appreciation for the Church calendar and the Litury of the Hours. In some respects, I've stepped back from where I was a few years ago. During my Navy years I was stationed in northern Virginia, and the parish that we attended did not use extraordinary ministers of communion at all. At Sunday masses the "extra" priests and deacons would troop in from the sacristy at communion time to aid in distribution and then disappear after communion. When we would come home to our home parish during visits, my wife and I would be scandalized by the parade of lay distributors up to the sanctuary during the Lamb of God (or Agnus Dei if we were lucky). The EM parade is one of the things that I've come to accept over the years.

I have learned enough about liturgy, especially the mass, to fall in love with it. When I participate in the liturgy, I am praying with the entire Church, with the mind of the Church. That's what I love about the Liturgy of the Hours--it's not just my prayer, it's our prayer. And the mass is the source and summit of the whole Christian life. All of the other sacraments are oriented toward the Eucharist. Our life between masses is both nourished by and preparation for the mass. When we worship at mass, the sacrifice of Calvary is made present to us, and we are able to unite ourselves to the perfect sacrifice of the Lamb of God. We are simultaneously in the Upper Room, at the foot of the cross, and outside the empty tomb. We are united with the entire Church in offering worship to God the Father. I can still remember attending a mass on All Saints Day and wondering in awe at the thought of being surrounded by the cloud of witnesses that is the Church Triumphant in heaven. It has been a great gift.

And then I see others who don't see what I see in the liturgy. There is a casualness surrounding the celebration of the sacred rites that is disturbing. To one who loves the liturgy and knows how it should be or could be celebrated, every omission or deviation from the rubrics becomes a wound to the heart that saddens and depresses the spirit that wants to soar with the angels. Other people, who I know are good and faithful Catholics, are able to offer their worship through what causes me to stagger and stumble in emotional and spiritual pain. A part of me envies them. In a way, my love has become a curse.

I certainly don't want to strain at gnats. I'm not looking for all the bells and whistles of the extraordinary form or the traditional Latin mass. I happen to think that the vernacular is a good thing, even if the current English translation is less than perfect. I can put up with a homily that isn't inspired. I just want the rites to be performed the way the Church, with all of her authority, has approved. But how much should I be willing to compromise? Should I accept what I shouldn't have to accept, just to get along?

I am in love, and I want to stay in love.

Prayer Before Praying the Liturgy of the Hours

Lord God,

I offer this Divine Office to you, together with the adoration and praise of the angels and saints in heaven, as well as that of all the priests of your Church and all other consecrated souls. I present to you, holy Father, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, this chorus of prayer, made Holy in the Heart of Jesus and made one with His most holy prayer. May all the words of this prayer be acts of pure love, adoration, thanksgiving, satisfaction, trust, and surrender to your holy Will. Let this prayer be for my weak self a spiritual communion, an act of humility, and of perfect self-denial; and may it be a sacrifice of praise and glory to you, O Blessed Trinity.

Amen.

A Good Time To Die

My wife and I typically attend the Saturday morning (11:30 am) mass at Maria Stein Center. Occasionally, we'll take advantage of the opportunity to go to confession before mass. It has occurred to me on more than one occasion, driving back home along the country roads, that this would be a good time to die, having just received absolution for my sins, followed by mass and communion.

It's a morbid thought, but that doesn't make it untrue.

The Music of Morning Prayer

Mother Theresa of Calcutta famously remarked that the fruit of silence is prayer. To that end, I have, on occasion in the past, tried to find quiet moments by doing things like turning off the radio in my car. I get uncomfortable in those moments. Rather than entering into conversation with God, it seems that after a minute or two, there's nothing happening at all: nothing in and nothing out.

I've also been on a silent retreat and found the experience to be very productive, spiritually speaking. At the retreat, I would return to my room after every meditation and write my reflections out. I found that in the writing, I was able to enter into the dialogue with God that was eluding me otherwise. It was after I shared this experience that someone suggested I start writing a blog. Whether that was a good idea or not remains to be seen.

Where I'm going with all this is that I've been saying Morning Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours every morning upon rising. After saying the Invitatory, a hymn is sung. If I don't know the tune, I play it out on the piano (this is typically before any of the kids are awake). The rest of Morning Prayer follows. I've mentioned before in this blog that I really like breakfast, and for a long time, I would start preparing my breakfast in-between the psalms and canticles and readings, so that my Morning Prayer was all broken up. For the last two weeks, I've been saying the entire Morning Prayer before starting any of my breakfast, and I've been a little surprised by the result.

After I finish the prayer and begin preparing for my day, the hymn continues to play in my mind. The music in my brain continues the prayer and makes me reluctant to turn on the radio or television. The silence that previously caused me such discomfort is now a source of comfort.

Sunday Mass is Sacred

Maybe I'm overly sensitive. Maybe everyone else is not sensitive enough. I hope that it's the latter. I continue to pray for discernment. [UPDATE: I've changed my mind. I'd rather be overly scrupulous than believe that everybody else is apathetic.]

I believe that sacraments and liturgy, and especially the mass, are sacred. Parlor tricks only cheapen what should be transcendent. It's a terrible thing to come home from Sunday mass in a bad mood, but here I am. It's a terrible thing to not want to go to mass out of fear of what the celebrant will introduce into the liturgy.

I'm at the point now where my first preference will be to attend mass at a neighboring parish. I've addressed my complaints to the pastor in the past, to no effect. More than anything else, I am filled with sadness this morning.

The Presentation of Mary

I was helping out at our local ConQuest boys' club meeting on Thursday, when I looked at the calendar and noted that today is the Memorial of the Presentation of Mary. I had heard of it before, but I didn't realize that there was actually a day set aside for it in the Church calendar. My prayer book says this:

This feast commemorates the dedication of the church of Saint Mary which was built in Jerusalem near the site of the Temple. With Christians of the East, the Latin Church also recalls on this day the tradition according to which Mary as a small child was presented to the Lord by her parents in the Temple.

I wasn't completely satisfied with this answer, so I checked the Catechism, Radio Replies, and Catholic Replies. Finally, I decided to just go to the original source, the Protoevangelium of James:

And the child was three years old, and Joachim said: Invite the daughters of the Hebrews that are undefiled, and let them take each a lamp, and let them stand with the lamps burning, that the child may not turn back, and her heart be captivated from the temple of the Lord. And they did so until they went up into the temple of the Lord. And the priest received her, and kissed her, and blessed her, saying: The Lord has magnified your name in all generations. In you, on the last of the days, the Lord will manifest His redemption to the sons of Israel. And he set her down upon the third step of the altar, and the Lord God sent grace upon her; and she danced with her feet, and all the house of Israel loved her.

There's a reason that the Church didn't include this stuff in the canon of scripture. It might be interesting, but it's not reliable. And yet, the Church recognizes the memorial of the event, and she recognizes Sts. Anne and Joachim as the parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I have to assume that some of the content of this particular apocryphal book might be true, but that some of it is not. If I can't tell the difference, and it all sounds a little hokey, I think that it's best for me to stay away from it. I'm going to stick with the canonical books, which contain all of the public revelation necessary for my salvation.