The New Rite - A Mass for Mission

"Go and preach

  Jesus Christ

  and, if you must,
  use words."

Sixth and Last Article of a Series

The fifth essay in this series marking the arrival of the New Roman Missal on the first Sunday of Advent came to a close with the theme of transformation in Christ. The point being made was that the Liturgy of the Eucharist is not a mere memorial, a mere re-enactment of Jesus’ actions and words at his last supper. It is an act in which remembering calls into present time the saving action, the redemptive action, of that event which took place over two thousand years ago. And in that present moment at any Mass not only are the elements of bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Jesus Christ but we too, along with those gifts or offerings, are subject to transformation. We arrive with a desire for God. We make ourselves available at the liturgy. We open our hearts to receive, however troubled, however skeptical, however distracted, and the transforming Jesus enters in. Yes, it is all very mystical. Karl Rahner, the great theologian said, “The Christian of the future will be a mystic, or not at all.

Anyone as old as I am will remember the Baltimore Catechism definition of a sacrament: an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace. What was just described here is the action of that grace. And we take it with us when we walk out the door of the church back into our lives, all a complicated mix of joys and sorrows, pain and ecstacy, disappointment and fulfillment. It is the power of our Trinitarian, relational, energetic God working in us.

The language of the New Roman Missal translation of the Latin Mass often emphasizes the sacrificial nature of the Mass, the fact that the Mass is designed to call to mind the entire Paschal Mystery, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ last supper is thought to have been a Passover meal, itself a remembering into the present of the preservation of the Hebrews by blood of slaughtered lambs splashed onto the door posts. Jesus knew he was going to die, that he would be sacrificed like the Passover lamb. To remember him fully is to remember his passion and death on the cross. Yet, at that last meal the gestures or actions he expressly asked his disciples to imitate were neither violent nor bloody. Before breaking the bread at table, he rose, put on an apron and washed the feet of those present, friends and enemies. Afterward he asked them, “Do you realize what I have done for you? This is what you too must do.” Knowing this would be a huge challenge, especially after experiencing his gruesome death, he left them his consolation. “Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my body, which will be given up for you…for this is the chalice of my blood…poured out for you…for the forgiveness of sins. Do this in memory of me.”

The Eucharist shared at the memorial meal, our Mass, is to spiritually empower us for the hard work of washing each others feet, of being other Christs, of preaching the love of Jesus Christ without using words. William C. Spohn has written, “If the disciples had taken Jesus literally, Christians would be washing feet every Sunday.” (Go and Do Likewise, 4) Jesus was not asking for literal imitation. He was asking them to love each other whoever "the other" happens to be. This was his last plea to them; an instruction so radical that only washing their feet as if he was a slave could adequately make his point.

We bring everything we are with us when we participate in a Mass. Perhaps we sit in the back because we know only too well all that we bring. We also carry a sack of emotions full of our joys, challenges and trials. In the hearing of the Word and the breaking of the bread we transcend time and space. We enter as mystics into the life of the Trinity. We trust in the transformative power of that life and carry away with us the effect of its rays, a heart burning once again, renewed by grace. And this is just the beginning.

May all of us find it in us to respond to the invitation of this occasion, the challenge of liturgical renovation. It is an invitation to go beyond words, to go deeper, to return to the Source. And it is an invitation to a level of participation in grace that is fully aware, fully conscious and ready for interior transformation. May this be a blessing for our Advent season.

Note: For another riff on the challenge of translation see "Making Sense of It", NYTimes Book Review, Sunday, October 30, 2011, p. 22.

Holy Eucharist

Jesus is Made Present

by Our Remembering

Fifth Article of a Series

Stay with us, Lord! (Luke 24:29) With these words, the disciples on the road to Emmaus invited the mysterious Wayfarer to stay with them, as the sun was setting on that first day of the week when the incredible had occurred. According to his promise, Christ had risen; but they did not yet know this. Nevertheless, the words spoken by the Wayfarer along the road made their hearts burn within them. So they said to him, “Stay with us”. Seated around the supper table, they recognized him in the “breaking of bread” – and suddenly he vanished. There remained in front of them the broken bread. There echoed in their hearts the gentle sound of his words.

                        From the Urbi et Orbi Message of John Paul II, 2005

The previous article of this series marking the inauguration of the New Roman Missal offered an account of the Emmaus story. Here the words of Pope John Paul give a reprise of that vignette. With the travelers John Paul says, “Stay with us, Lord”, because Jesus has been recognized “in the breaking of the bread”.

We come to Mass with a burning, a yearning right on the surface or buried deep within, a yearning to meet God, to experience God in an Emmaus-like moment. This is the place, the event, that which is deeper than the words.

During the Mass we remember the life, the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Paschal Mystery. We remember in such a way that what we remember is made present in the gathered community. This kind of remembering is as old as the Hebrews. It is the kind of remembering engaged in at every Passover Seder when the saving acts of God in the Exodus of the Jewish slaves from Egypt is so remembered as to become a felt presence at the Passover table. And notice that this is done at a shared meal. This productive sort of remembering is called ANAMNESIS – your new word for today. In the days before the Nicene Creed to be Christians meant to be faithful to Jesus’ command to celebrate memorial. “Do this in Memory of me.” Luke 33:24-25. For their memorial they joined scripture and readings to the blessing of God for creation and redemption. “However named it has always been part of the church’s grasp of memorial that the mystery remembered becomes a living reality in the lives of those who celebrated it liturgically. For the early writers this was implied in the very idea of symbolic or sacramental representation.” (David N. Power, The Eucharistic Mystery: Revitalizing the Tradition, NY: Crossroad:1994, 488-49).

Celebrations of the Eucharist in which we share today are the occasions in which we call to mind the person and events of our salvation – Jesus Christ and his Paschal Mystery – in such a way that “we” render them living and active in our own time. The “we”, plural pronoun, is operative here. The priest, although in persona Christi, is not acting alone. The gathered community is not merely present or participating by observation. The community gathered for the memorial meal is integral to anamnesis, to recalling and thereby making actively present the person and saving action of the Redeemer. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium) of the Second Vatican Council declared that God’s people gathered for Eucharist “offer the immaculate victim through the hands of the priest but also together with him”. (48)

The Eucharistic prayer emphasizes this integral function by repeated use of the pronoun “we”. We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you (EPII). We offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living sacrifice (EPIII). We, your people and your ministers, recall his passion, his resurrection from the dead and his ascension into glory (EPI). Indeed, the level of participation penetrates more deeply if the community offers itself along with the gifts of bread and wine and unites itself with the words of Eucharistic Prayer III, “Father we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit, that they may become the body and the blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. By this collective effort and offering and in light of the concept of Eucharistic anamnesis Jesus becomes uniquely present in the consecrated bread and wine but also actively present in our time and within and among those gathered. And this answers the question; in what way is Jesus Christ made actively present at each Eucharistic celebration? At least in part, Jesus the Redeeming Christ, is made present within those who are united with Him in this memorial.  Each of the four principal Eucharistic prayers includes a prayer of epiclesis invoking the power of the Holy Spirit as the agent of consecration; “let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy”. (EP II) Whether we speak of “gifts” in the translation we will no longer us, or “offerings” as the new Roman Missal translation renders it, we acknowledge that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit that the gifts/offerings are transformed. To the extent that we present ourselves, all that we are – good, bad and indifferent – as gifts/offerings available for transformation by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are asking to be made holy and transformed into the mystery that we celebrate, the mystery of the sacrament of remembrance which is making Jesus present in us and among us.

Incredible, isn’t it. But St. Athanasius said in the 4^th century, “God became man that man might become God.” This is the incredible mystery of the Incarnation which qualifies us to stand in the presence of God and serve God. This is what the lofty words, the unusual vocabulary, the smells and bells, the vestments, gestures, posture, art and stained glass windows, speaking and singing are intended to communicate. Jesus asked us to break the bread as he did in memory of his life, death and resurrection and assured us that he would be there in the bread and the wine, in and among us in the pews and within us working our transformation into other Christs.

The last piece in this series will speak about the implication of the final words of dismissal at Mass. In the new Roman Missal there are three options for this line: “Go forth, the Mass is ended.” “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.” Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.” And what could all of that mean?

(For a fuller treatment concerning Eucharistic Anamnesis just type the word 'anamnesis' in the search box to the right.)

Disciples on the Road to Emmaus

A Lens

Through Which

We Can Enter

the Holy Mass

Fourth Article of a Series

Writing a series of articles on the topic of the New Roman Missal which will be inaugurated throughout the world on the first Sunday of Advent is an exercise in ‘readiness’. I am preparing myself for the transition in an attempt to move to a deeper place; to unite myself more completely with Holy Mass, often described as the ”source and summit” of our faith. These thoughts are being shared here as a means of assisting others to do the same. We need assistance because change is rarely fun and there has been a great deal of rhetoric in circulation about this very significant event. The call is to go beyond the rhetoric and re-enter the Mystery.

Our understanding of the Mass, consisting mainly of a Liturgy of the Word and a Liturgy of the Eucharist, can be expanded by using the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-34) as a metaphorical lens providing greater clarity. What happens at Mass can be described as an ‘Emmaus process’.

In that very human story we find two disciples (two men or perhaps a man and a woman) walking away from Jerusalem, away from the great suffering and tragedy of the death of their Master. In their conversation they are trying to make sense of it all – the pain, the futility, the disappointment, the confusion and fear for their very lives. Along comes an eavesdropping stranger who, joining them in stride, enters their conversation and proceeds to cite scripture, illustrating to them how the death of the Messiah had been foretold by the Prophets and had now been fulfilled in their sight. His presentation must have been mesmerizing because we are told they had no desire to end the conversation and invited the stranger to eat with them. And Luke records: “…He took the bread, pronounced a blessing, then broke the bread and began to distribute it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him…”

The story has two movements that mirror the movements of the Mass; first, the Mystery is unveiled; it is revealed through the words of Scripture. And second, the person who is the very Mystery is recognized as being present their company. In the Liturgy of the Word, the readings from Scripture that we hear at the beginning of Mass, the mysteries of our faith and their meaning are revealed and expanded upon. They speak to our heads and hearts and can be further magnified by a well-prepared and delivered homily. Then we move into the Liturgy of the Eucharist in which the mysteries of our faith as embodied in the person of Jesus Christ are made present on the altar under the appearance of bread and wine. And we know Him in the breaking of the breaking of the bread.

Not unlike the troubled travelers on the way to Emmaus, we arrive at church for our Sunday worship awhirl in a myriad of emotions, pressures and concerns. We come, consciously or unconsciously, looking for clarity, solace, affirmation. We may also come with a heart full of joy and thanksgiving looking for an opportunity to offer praise to our benevolent God. At the end of Luke’s story the disciples ask each other, “Were not our hearts burning inside us as he talked to us on the road and explained the Scriptures to us?” Our desire must carry us beyond the issues of the language of Mass, the quality of the presider, the babies who may or may not be crying around us or the annoyance of last minute arrivals. At the end of Mass, inspite of whatever tries to get in the way, we all want to leave with burning hearts, our faith fanned into flame once more for the love of God, our constant companion on the way.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Arriving Officially on November 27, 2011

Receiving the New

Roman Missal

Third Article of a Series

We could call it a challenge. We could call it a transition. We could call it many things. Bottom line is that changes are always difficult. American Roman Catholics come to Sunday worship from so many different walks of life, cultures, races, ethnicities, levels of secular education and levels of religious education that the task of presenting the New Roman Missal for use at all Masses is a truly daunting prospect. Some, in spite of their misgivings and concerns, have already wisely launched into the process with efforts to inform and educate the community and gradual introduction of new wording and music. Others seem to have hidden their heads in the sand.

The New Roman Missal is coming knocking at the door. How will we receive it as individuals and as worshipping communities? That is the question. Sister Sandy DeMasi, SSJ and Father Richard Groncki, SJ, members of the Liturgical Commission of the Archdiocese of Newark, NJ, suggest that the occasion of this change in our worship calls us to give greater attention to the liturgical theological meaning of the Mass. Such consideration can be a means of spiritually encouraging full, active, conscious, participation in Holy Mass. After all the Mass is "the Source and Summit of our faith". In this level of discussion the issue is not Latin vs. English, the old English vs. the new English translation; not simply the accumulation of intellectual knowledge but rather the nature of the face to face encounter with Jesus Christ and contemplative engagement that takes place at the Eucharistic feast.  Simply speaking, this time can be looked upon as an invitation to go deeper than words. Sister Sandy and Father Groncki spoke of it as “a moment of liturgical catechesis”.

As you wait for the next installment of this series to appear you might find it helpful, illuminating or just plain grounding to meditate upon what it is you experience when you come to Mass. What are you hoping for? What is it in the Eucharistic Rite that most connects with your being? What reveals God to you? What do you think is happening on that altar when the priest blesses the bread and wine and evokes the Holy Spirit? What is Jesus’ specific invitation to you in the words, “This is my body, which will be given up for you”?

Coming Soon to Your Parish

The New Roman Missal
Second Article in a Series

About one week ago each of the sisters in our contemplative community was given a CD recording of the new adaptation of The Heritage Mass musical setting for the parts of the Mass often sung by the congregation. The melodies we have been singing for over 30 years are very familiar to all church-going American Catholics. But the changes in wording of these prayers in the New Roman Missal, which goes into use on the First Sunday of Advent, require some tweaking of the original music. Old habits are hard to break. We had a week to listen to the music privately and attune our ears and vocal chords to the differences. Today we had our first practice session with a music teacher. We did well, I must say, even though we do not all read music! We even got to listen to the new Mass music by Dan Shutte. Now we have another CD to listen to so that it will become familiar before our next practice.

My last post introduced the topic of the New Roman Missal for use at Mass and presented some of the historical background. Here I would like to present some additional information and some thoughts to ponder. Most of the material is taken from talks given by Monsignor Richard E. Groncki, SJ and Sister Sandy DeMasi, SSJ from the Liturgy Office of the Diocese of Newark, New Jersey. They spoke at a recent meeting of the Metropolitan Association of Contemplative Communities.

Picking up on the translation history in my last post, it is necessary to say that there has been a history of effort toward liturgical renewal in the Church all through the 20^th century and now into the 21^st. There was a movement for renewal and liturgical adaptations made in each pontificate of the period. This began with the reforms of Pius X (1903-1914) which promoted the reception of First Eucharist at a younger age for children. Another reform with which some of us are familiar is the abolition of the all-night fast before receiving Holy Communion. And most memorable is the great shift into the vernacular which took place in the 1970s. It is a mistake therefore to think that the way things are now is how they always have been. One can imagine a cry from some quarters about allowing seven-year-olds to received Communion or about the sacrilege of ending the overnight fast. We can go back even further to a long period in the history of Church when receiving Communion daily or even weekly was not permitted. Saints we revere had to get special permission to do so.

What we will experience this Advent season will be another change in the continuum of constant change in our world, or families, our lives, and our Church. But we resist change with all our might. It makes us very uncomfortable and we find it arduous.

The text of the Mass that we are now using was approved in 1975 to take the place of the first English translation of 1970. Both of these translations were created as dynamic equivalency translations. Since this was the first time we would hear the words for the truths of our faith in English, it was thought that although literal translation was important it was also necessary that the words made sense. Thus attention was given to the catechetical dimension – the ability of the text to be a teacher of the faith.

The type of translation called for in the 3^rd typical edition of the Roman Missal in English to go into use on November 27, 2011 is referred to as formal equivalency translation. This translation sought word for word equivalency in meaning and an effort to retain the syntax (sentence structure) of the original Latin. It is marked by great deference to God, a high level of theology, adherence to scriptural references and less allowance for the celebrant to make on the spot changes.

Next time, we can consider the challenge presented in this change. We can consider how we might view this great shift in the liturgical setting as a challenge in our faith development. But more to the point, how we might use it as a vehicle for deepening our relationship with the One we come to meet with our brothers and sisters gathering for worship. Can we find the invitation here?

The Biggest Secret in the Catholic Church

The New Roman Missal
Coming

to Your Celebration
of Holy Mass
First Article in a Series

According to poll findings quoted in a recent national Catholic publication 77% of the Roman Catholics in the United States have no idea that when they come to Mass on November 27, 2011, the first Sunday of Advent, beginning of the Liturgical Year, all of the spoken parts of the Mass will have been changed, some in minor ways and some in major ways. At the very least, we will all be jarred out of our comfortable automatic response to the priest who says, “The Lord be with you.” We will no longer say, “And also with you,” but rather, “And with your spirit.” To be jarred out of sheer habitual response is not necessarily a bad thing. Much more thought provoking will be some unusual vocabulary, some unusual sentence constructions and, most importantly, changes in translation that will make us think more deeply and perhaps for the first time in a long time about just what it is we celebrate when we come together as the People of God and gathere around the table of the Lord for the Eucharistic Feast.

A bit of simple explanation for those to whom this is indeed big news. The words we say and hear at any Mass today are an English translation created in accord with the liturgical reforms instituted after the Second Vatican Council (1961-65). The translators were commissioned to produce an English version of the Latin Mass of the Missale Romanum. They were directed to translate for closest meaning into modern English the Latin in the Missale Romanum first promulgated in 1570 after the Council of Trent. In the four hundred intervening years minor changes  had been made in the Missale Romanum however the language of the Mass remained Latin and the rubrics of the Rite remained virtually the same from 1570 on.

There is a saying among those who carry out the arduous and thankless task of translation; “The translator is a traitor.” Unless you know two languages well enough to attempt translation, you cannot appreciate how difficult the process of translating for meaning as well as fluidity can be. Languages simply do not match and nuances of meaning often cannot be put into reasonable words in the second language, never mind the impossibility of idiomatic expressions that defy translation because they are so deeply rooted in only their particular culture. These days amazing translations of Russian literature into English are being done by a much lauded team of husband and wife, Larissa Volokhonsky and Richard Pevear. A great article about them appeared in The New Yorker Magazine. She is a native speaker of Russian with a huge command of the English language. He is a native English speaker with a corresponding command of Russian. Each translates the Russian work independently and then they hash out all of the puzzles in the ways their versions do not agree. It takes years.

Prayers for Vigil Mass for Christmas

For years there have been complaints about our current English translation of the Missale Romanum. So, as you will find out if you go the website of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB), it was decided that a new translation be prepared, a translation closely faithful to the literal meaning of the original Latin and even to matching its sentence structure. There has been a great deal of back and forth about this New Roman Missal. But over a year ago it was announced that it would become the official translation for the Mass on the first Sunday of Advent this year. As a bit of trivia – the book the priest uses at the altar which contains all of these prayers has been called the “Sacramentary” since 1970. No longer will it be so. The book on the altar will be called the “Roman Missal”.

These changes have also had consequences for church musicians since the wording for the parts of the Mass commonly sung, that is the Gloria, the Holy, the Eucharistic Acclamation, and the Lamb of God, have been changed requiring adaptation to some Mass settings and composition of entirely new ones. We will have to learn them. Some parishes began this process weeks, if not months, ago. Here in our monastery we have been listening to an adapted Heritage Mass Setting on CDs.

More will follow here on this subject. Perhaps this explanation and the links provided will assist you in beginning your own transition to the new text and also promote a smoother process in the community with which you worship. That which we partake at the Eucharistic celebration, that which we remember so as to make Him present in this place and time goes far beyond mere words, whatever the language.