the mystical nature of the Liturgy: entering into the Paschal Mystery

Over the weekends of May it is common to be invited to a first communion liturgy. My own son’s first communion was held at a special 2 pm mass on the first Sunday of May. My nephew Joseph’s first communion, however, was scheduled to take place in the context of the regular Sunday morning liturgy at his parish. The church is also undergoing some major renovation so all of the pews have been removed and the church can only seat about half of its normal capacity. Suffice it to say that when we arrived about fifteen minutes before mass time the church was abuzz with conversation, family members trying to find grandma and grandpa, the choir practicing, and the clanking of folding chairs and babies crying.


I imagined that some of the gathered visitors were wondering whether the congregation would ever quiet down and settle itself to enter into the holy and celebrate the sacred mysteries.


Nevertheless, when the cantor announced the gathering hymn and the congregation stood and began to sing along the Easter hymn, the assembled body took on a different demeanor. With the procession of the cross, candles, gospel book, first communicant class, gospel book, and presider, the gathered body soon began to take shape as “church”. Despite the peculiar acoustics and the awkward seating, the priest intoned the greeting in song, “The Lord be with you” and we responded with a resounding “and also with you.” The pastor welcomed everyone and made note of the first communicants.


This was then followed by the Gloria; the cantor intoned the ancient hymn and the congregation sang the refrain. Besides piano and guitar a nice addition was the sound of bongo drums. Unlike some parishes where only the cantor sings the verses, seemingly the entire church was singing the hymn.


While the Gloria was sung, the pastor, accompanied by one of the servers bearing a holy water pail, went throughout the church sprinkling holy water on all gathered.

By the last lines of the Gloria: For you alone are the Holy One, you alone are the Lord, You alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father. Amen. The entire church was alive with a fervor not found in every parish. The concluding refrain of Glory to God in the Highest and peace to His people on earth echoed through the nave and reverberated for a second or two before the priest intoned the “Let us pray….”


A reverent silence filled the space as it seemed every eye, ear, and heart was attuned to prayer. After the opening prayer another amen sounded forth as the people quietly seated themselves.


Gracefully and without fanfare a young man seated in the middle of the church stood and made his way to the ambo where he beautifully proclaimed the first reading. Afterwards he left the sanctuary and returned to his seat. A reverent silence followed. Then one of the choir members came to the ambo and chanted the refrain of the responsorial psalm; the congregation repeated the verse at his invitation. After the psalm, another period for silent reflection followed. Then a woman near the front of the church stood and walked to the sanctuary where she proclaimed the second reading with great reverence. After she returned to her seat the holy silence reigned until the deacon stood and bowed before the priest for a blessing. The cantor intoned the alleluia and the congregation stood. The deacon, now accompanied by two candle bearers walked to the main altar where the gospel book stood. He picked it up and held it high for all to see as he walked around the altar and down to the front of the sanctuary before ascending the sanctuary steps. The alleluia verses continued for some time and the deacon deliberately took his time reaching the ambo. With the congregation on its feet the alleluia came to a flourishing conclusion. The deacon proclaimed the Gospel and when complete he once again held the book aloft for all to see as the cantor intoned the alleluia once more.


The homily followed whereby the congregation received an exhortation to go forth and live the message of Christ, called to be the Body of Christ in a hungry world. All were encouraged to recall the close connection between baptism and first communion.


After a renewal of our baptismal promises and the intercessory prayers, the Liturgy of the Word had come to a close and the Liturgy of the Eucharist was about to begin.


We were all invited to come forward with our gifts and place them before the altar. The choir led the church in song as the assembled came forward to the altar. Though there was some noise from the metal folding chairs, it was the sound of a church in procession, a pilgrim people moving forward toward Christ. While this act was taking place the altar was being prepared for the Eucharistic Prayer.


The gifts of bread and wine were brought forth at the presentation of the gifts by the fist communicants and they then gathered about the altar. The presider then invited all to stand. Then he began to sing the mass, “The Lord be with you,” and all sang in reply: And also with you. Lift up your hearts. We lift them up to the Lord. Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God. It is right to give him thanks and praise.


If we truly believe that lex orandi, lex credendi, then truly this liturgical experience was proof of that axiom for as soon as the priest and congregation began the liturgical dialogue of the Eucharistic prayer something began to happen: something mystical, something holy. The fact that the priest sang the entire Eucharistic prayer is of great significance. Indeed the way we pray does something to us, indeed prayer changes us. Though I was at prayer during mass it was difficult for me to not observe the change that was occurring to those gathered for mass – including myself.


Lord, you are holy indeed, the fountain of all holiness. Let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy, so that they may become for us the body and blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

I am not convinced that as the priest prays this prayer not only are the bread and wine changed, but we are changed as well, so as to become his body here on earth.

Before he was given up to death, a death he freely accepted, he took bread and gave you thanks, He broke the bread, gave it to his disciples, and said: Take this, all of you, and eat it; this is my body which will be given up for you.

When the supper was ended, he took the cup. Again he gave you thanks and praise, gave the cup to his disciples, and said: Take this, all of you, and drink from it; this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me.

The memorial acclamation was sung heartily by all: When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim your death, Lord Jesus, until you come in glory.

While Father continued to sing the Eucharistic prayer the choir began to sing. Their voices started in low but continued to build into Lord hear us, Lord hear our prayer.

In memory of his death and resurrection, we offer you, Father, this life-giving bread, this saving cup. We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you. May all of us who share in the body and blood of Christ be brought together in unity by the Holy Spirit.

At this father paused and the cantor and choir led the congregation in the chant of lord hear us, Lord hear our prayer.

Father continued:

Lord, remember your Church throughout the world; make us grow in love, together with {Benedict} our Pope, {name of local bishop}, our bishop, and all the clergy.

Remember our brothers and sisters who have gone to their rest in the hope of rising again; bring them and all the departed into the light of your presence. Have mercy on us all; make us worthy to share eternal life with Mary, the virgin Mother of God, with the apostles, and with all the saints who have done your will throughout the ages. May we praise you in union with them, and give you glory through your Son, Jesus Christ.

Again the refrain of “Lord hear us, Lord hear our prayer” resounded through the
church.
Through him, with him, and in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, almighty Father, for ever and ever. Amen!

Happily the great amen was undeniably great for the assembled believers had all just taken part in one great act of prayer. Though Eucharistic Prayer II is the shortest of all Eucharistic prayers there was no lack of grace present in the church this morning. By the end of the prayer I felt a unity with all those gathered, as if we had all together encountered something unique and holy. We had been plunged into the paschal Mystery of the dying and rising of Christ, we had united our lives to that of Christ and he who shared in our humanity had allowed us to share in his divinity.

If it is true that our prayer determines our belief and event he way we live then the celebration of the Eucharist has confirmed this beautifully.

The “Our Father” was then prayed by all in unison with one voice, symbolizing the unity that had been brought about by the liturgy. At the Communion Rite the church, that is the Body of Christ, approached the Eucharistic ministers so as to receive the Eucharist, the Body of Christ, so as to most fully become the Body of Christ, and to truly become what we receive.

Now why do I go into such detail describing the Sunday Mass? Perhaps because some Catholics have yet to experience the beauty and grace of the liturgy properly executed.

In no way shape or form am I speaking disparaging of the Tridentine Liturgy or the faith of those who were very attached to the old mass. What I am concerned about are those who seem to be clamoring for the Latin Mass but have no recollection of it from the past but seem to desire the Tridentine Rite for personal reasons.

There is a romantic concept that with the reintroduction of the Latin Mass, people will be more spiritual and reverent and more people will return to church. The problems and challenges the Church faces today will not single-handedly be corrected with the celebration of the Latin Mass.

Theological musings can be found in Henri De Lubac’s Méditation sur l’Eglise written nearly a decade before the Second Vatican Council convened:

“The Church is a mystery of faith” and as such “it follows that we cannot run away whenever we feel like it into another age – not even if we don’t actually intend a negative attitude in doing so. We cannot avoid the problems of our own day, any more than we can excuse ourselves from its tasks or run away from its battles. If we are to live in the Church (for we are the Church as Pope Pius XIII has reminded us in Mystici Corporis Christi), then we have to become involved in with the problems she faces now, and the assent of our intelligence is owed to her doctrine as we find it set out today. It would be a big mistake for us to think that we could ever rediscover the faith of the past in its exact tenor and all its richness, at the expense of all that has been clarified since…for time cannot be reversed; even error and revolt, however complete their overthrow, impose a new lifestyle and a different emphasis on the life of faith, as on the expression of truth” (The Splendor of the Church, pp 20-21, Henri De Lubac, Ignatius Press, San Francisco: 1986).