Holy Mass begins with the Introit. The Introit is a processional chant that was originally a psalm with a refrain sung between verses. At this point you may be scratching your head saying: “Don’t you mean a hymn?” No, you heard me correctly. Many Catholics today do not know what the Introit is because of post-conciliar mayhem. The Introit is actually part of the Proper of the Mass. The Proper of the Mass includes the scriptural texts that change daily with the liturgical calendar in order to bring out the significance of each feast or season. The Proper texts sung by the choir, with the participation of soloists and when possible and appropriate the members of the congregation, are the Introit, Gradual, Alleluia or Tract, Sequence, Offertory, and Communion.

For the past 50 years there has been an erroneous and misguided effort to eliminate the Introit and to substitute it with various hymns. This change came about under the auspices of promoting “fully conscience and active participation” among the faithful. A “four hymn” practice was adopted to include the laity more and to afford them additional opportunities to participate in the liturgy by singing. Yet, three fundamental errors occurred. First, it was assumed that ordinary Catholics like you and I, could not sing anything but hymns because of the complexity of some polyphony. Secondly, instead of lifting the people up to the demands of the Liturgy by educational, spiritual, and pastoral initiatives, they oversimplified it and as a result the liturgy became more casual and a sense of the sacred was all but lost. The horizontal replaced the vertical, the human overshadowed the divine, and ceremony and ritual were retired and placed in the annals of time. The third and final error was the complete and utter disregard for the written letter of Vatican II. The Vatican II documents, that which was written and finally approved by the Council Fathers, were completely ignored.

To address the first error I would like to quote God as he spoke through his servant Moses, “Let my people go!” (Ex 9:1) To limit and confine the congregation to singing hymns alone is a bondage and an oppression that has been tolerated for far too long. This “4 hymn” practice is confining, restricting, limiting, and narrow. Adoption of this “4 hymn” style of worship has prevented generations of Catholics from experiencing and appreciating the rich plethora of choices, the diversity of ideas, the vast array of traditions, and the magnificent collection of works handed on to us by very bright and gifted musicians and saints throughout the centuries.

To continue, I would argue that the majority of faithful Catholics in the pews on Sunday are certainly capable of singing much more than hymns. Additionally, I believe that the past five generations and all future generations of Catholics are entitled to having antiphons, chants and choral pieces sung at Mass because these too are parts of the rich liturgical patrimony handed on to us by the Church; a patrimony which all Catholics may rightfully claim by virtue of their baptism.

Furthermore, to coin a term, the “de-scripturalization” of the Mass by eliminating the Proper of the Mass, that is the sung psalms and scriptural texts, is not Catholic. The Mass is the Prayer of Jesus Christ. Jesus is the priest, the altar, and the lamb of sacrifice. The Psalms are the prayers Jesus would have prayed while on earth. Psalms are also sacred texts inspired by the Holy Spirit who intercedes for us because we do not know how to pray as we ought. (Rom 8:26) Moreover, this “de-scripturalization” of the Mass is not in keeping with the reforms of the 2^nd Vatican Council which stressed the importance of sacred scripture in its decree on the Word of God (Dei Verbum). Therefore, the “4 hymn” practice that has been popularized in churches throughout the West should never have been tolerated in the first place and definitely should not be perpetuated moving forward.

When we enter church we use holy water and mark ourselves with the sign of the Cross. The sign of the Cross is a source of strength, courage, and empowerment. It is a reminder of our dignity, our value, and our worth. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone that believes in him might not perish, but might have eternal life.” (Jn3:16) This seal reminds us that our bodies are “temples of the Holy Spirit” and that “you are not your own” as St. Paul explains, “you have been purchased at a price.” (1 Cor 6:19-20) St. Peter makes a similar remark in his first epistle when he writes, “you were ransomed from your futile conduct, handed on by your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold but with the precious blood of Christ as of a spotless unblemished lamb.” (1 Peter1:19)

By marking ourselves with the sign of the Cross we are confessing faith in Christ crucified “a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, Jews and Greeks alike, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” (1 Cor 1:23-24) This movement symbolizes a person’s willingness and commitment to imitate Jesus Christ. “Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.’” (Mt 16:24) This seal is evidence that we have been claimed for Christ. It also bears witness to the fact that his blood is upon us. Therefore, this seal carries with it a double implication: First, we are claiming responsibility for our brother, his welfare, and ultimately for the death of Christ. For, the Bible states: “He was pierced for our sins and crushed for our iniquity.” (Is 53:5) Secondly and of no less importance we are bearing witness to the saving power of his Precious Blood, which washes, purifies, and renews us, as it is written: “they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” (Rev 7:14)

This gesture of marking ourselves with the sign of the Cross is an affirmation of our faith in the Blessed Trinity. When making the sign of the Cross, we say: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” This confession is a clear rejection of sin and immorality, as St. John says, “in him there is no sin” and again “no one who remains in him sins.” (1 Jn 3:5-6) Sin by its very nature separates and divides and casts us out into the darkness of isolation and despair. Confession of faith in the Blessed Trinity, on the other hand, reminds us that we are not called to a solitary isolated existence. We are called to Communion. God is a Trinity of Persons, a Communion of Persons; The Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Therefore, we who are made in his image and likeness are social by nature. Thus, it is clear that faith in the Triune God is a rejection of sin and immorality, for “Whoever sins belongs to the devil, because the devil has sinned from the beginning” and “no one who is begotten by God commits sin, because God’s seed remains in him; he cannot sin because he is begotten by God. In this way, the children of God and the children of the devil are made plain; no one who fails to act in righteousness belongs to God, nor anyone who does not love his brother.” (1 Jn 3:9-10)

The use of holy water while marking ourselves with the sign of the cross is a renewal of our baptismal promises. In essence we are saying with the language of the body: “I reject Satan and all of his ways and all of his empty promises” and “I believe and profess all that the holy Catholic Church teaches, believes and proclaims to be revealed by God.” In short, this gesture is a bold, public, and visible expression of faith. Under this seal countless Christians throughout the centuries have sacrificed their lives in faithfulness and fidelity to the one, true, faith, confidently declaring before the entire world: “Jesus Christ is Lord!”(Phil 2:11)

In the last article on the liturgy we discussed “how” we as human persons are formed. It is a process that begins at the very moment of conception and continues until death. Throughout this process, there are various stages of development and formation. In this article we will analyze stage two, the formation and development of an infant, in hopes that this will shed some light on our study of the liturgy and how the “liturgy” forms us.

In infancy a child begins a new way of relating to the world around him/her. In some respects this stage can be considered to be more passive than active for it appears as though all the baby does is eat and sleep, but appearances can be deceiving. An infant is busy developing the use of their five senses (touch, taste, sight, smell, and sound) which they began to develop in utero. In new, exciting, and sometimes startling ways infants absorb sights and smells like a sponge and learn at a furious rate.

In utero a baby is already kicking, pushing, and pulling, but the sense of smell emerges even earlier. "It's the predominant sense, very early on, because smells cross the amniotic fluid” says Alan Greene, M.D., clinical professor of pediatrics at Stanford University School of Medicine. Not only does a baby’s sense of smell and touch develop in utero but they are also able to recognize Mom’s voice and their taste buds are already fully formed at birth. A person’s ability to see however is a different story. Sight develops gradually over the first six to seven months after birth.

What does all of this have to do with the liturgy? We are physical beings, and we live in a physical world. When we learn and communicate we must do it in a physical way through our senses. The liturgy communicates sacred truths and invisible realities and gives grace through signs and symbols. We pray in the Rite of Baptism: “Lord you give us grace through sacramental signs, which tell us of the wonders of your unseen power. In baptism we use your gift of water, which you have made a rich symbol of the grace you give us in this sacrament.” The liturgy forms us and we can learn and absorb a great deal at Mass through the use of our five senses.

The very first thing we do when we enter the church to celebrate the liturgy is make the sign of the Cross with holy water. This practice of marking oneself with the sign of the Cross is rooted in sacred scripture. Ezekiel 9 speaks of a linen-clad messenger marking the forehead of the city inhabitants that have sorrow over the sins of the people. All those without the mark are destroyed. The mark which is placed on the foreheads of the people is the last letter of the Hebrew alphabet, the Tav, which resembles the form of the Cross.

The Sign of the Cross is God’s seal upon us. We are God’s people the sheep of his flock as the Psalmist prays: “Know that the Lord is God, he made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the flock he shepherds.” (Ps 100:3) The sign of the Cross is a guard and a shield; under its protection we can “enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise.” (Ps 100:4) It is a sure defense against the Evil One, who threatens to attack us, distract us, and prevent us from entering into communion with God. The devil is known by his works, he is one who divides, who sets us against one-another and God. The devil is one who refuses to serve, he is a liar, and he is active precisely to disturb, to isolate, and to suffocate, but the Holy Spirit is the breath of God (ruach Elohim) that breathes upon us; the wind that whispers and blows filling us with breath and life and enabling us to sing a new song to the Lord.

“Instead of trying to form the liturgy, we need to allow the liturgy to form us.”

In the Old Testament book of Sirach it is written: “Whoever loves a son will chastise him often” (Sir 30:1). The same passage speaks about the importance of discipline and education and warns against spoiling, indulging, and pampering a child. The author writes: “An untamed horse turns out stubborn; and a son left to himself grows up unruly” (Sir 30:8). As we continue our reflection on the liturgy and the “need to allow the liturgy to form us” it is essential to understand “how” we are formed in order to appreciate how the liturgy itself forms us.

Plants grow and develop differently than animals, and animals are formed and reared very differently than human beings endowed with reason and an intellect. At least we hope that is the case although we often wonder when we see humans acting like animals on television.

A plant’s growth is fostered by sunlight, water, soil minerals, air, and various temperatures. Even what some would consider an oversimplified view of plant growth still consists of seven stages (pollination, fertilization, seed formation, dispersal, germination, growth, and pollination). Suffice it to say, formation even for plants is complex.

Human beings equipped with reason, an intellect, and free-will, have a much more complex formation process than both plants and animals while at the same time we see numerous similarities. With the help of ultrasound technology we can see that human persons are already developing, growing, and being formed in utero. These tiny little babies even perform simple actions like yawning and kicking, opening their eyes and blinking, and they even react to certain stimuli like music. There is interaction between the mother and the child and even between the child and the outside world. Who can forget the story of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary? When Mary visited her cousin, Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and she praised God in a loud voice. Then Elizabeth, turning to Mary, said: “Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me? At the very moment your greeting sounded in my ears, the baby in my womb leapt for joy” (Lk 1:43).

The formation of a child in utero provides us with a concrete example of a person being formed in a relatively peaceful environment characterized by solitude and quiet. It must be agreed upon then that one way we can “allow the liturgy to form us” is through moments of silence. We can be formed by the liturgy in silent contemplation and quiet prayer we don’t always have to be doing or saying something. Like a baby in utero we can rest in our Mother, the Church. We can rest and be still and at the same time we can be nourished and fed.

In infancy a child begins a new way of relating to the world around him/her. The child is no longer inside the womb but has been born and he/she begins a new stage of formation. Instead of being nourished from the mother’s bloodstream, to the placenta, through the umbilical cord the child is cradled in the mother’s arms and is fed at the breast. The child also begins to watch, to see, and to observe the people and the world around him/her. And this is where we will continue our next article on how we can “allow the liturgy to form us.”

“Instead of trying to form the liturgy, we need to allow the liturgy to form us.”

I will pick up where we left off last article with a quote from St. Paul. He writes in his letter to the Romans, “For we do not know how to pray as we ought” (Romans 8:26).

The humility of St. Paul shines forth in this particular passage whereby the Apostle acknowledges his limitations, his inadequacies, and his littleness in the face of so great a mystery. For that is precisely what we are dealing with when we speak of prayer and the liturgy. Prayer and liturgy are sacred mysteries and they should always be approached as such, with awe and reverence, piety and humility. Scripture undoubtedly contains many instances that would back this statement, from the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector in Luke 18:9-14 to the story of the Magi in Matthew 2:1-12. Jesus’ own witness and example reflect this reverential, pious, and humble approach to prayer and temple worship as well. This can be seen both in his agony in the garden where he kneels and prays so fervently that his sweat becomes like drops of blood (Lk 22:39-46) and in his entrance into Jerusalem where Jesus visits and cleanses the temple and admonishes the money changers (Mt 21:12-15).

Today, however, instead of allowing the liturgy to form us there are continuous efforts made to form the liturgy. Humility is substituted and replaced by creativity, and obedience is exchanged for sentimentality and personal preference. St. Paul’s humble acknowledgement, “For we do not know how to pray as we ought” has morphed and mutated. We are no longer concerned with “how to pray as we ought,” but only “how to pray as we want!”

In my seminary days I was taught a very simple formula by a Benedictine monk instructing the young seminarians on how to celebrate Mass. He said: “Do the red and read the black.” In other words, he was telling us to be humble and obedient, and to follow the rules. The actions of the priest are dictated by the words in red print whereas the words in black print specify what the priest is to say during the Mass. Such an instruction seems simple and fundamental, but it is definitely necessary given the frequent occurrence of liturgical innovations by priests and laity alike.

I remember growing up and witnessing firsthand what I would call the post-conciliar liturgical revolution of the late 20th century. From preaching nuns to loosely clad liturgical dancers, from parades of ministers flooding the sanctuary to clown masses, polka masses, folk masses, and bizarre children’s masses, from gay pride masses to erotic and disruptive forms of the sign of peace, the spectacles I witnessed attending Mass as a child were totally new and innovative but they were as empty and meaningless as holding hands during the Our Father is compared to the true and real communion that we experience in the Eucharist.

The master minds of such novelties showed a total and utter disregard for what Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI calls the hermeneutic of continuity. Their motto was: “Out with the old and in with the new!” At the time this seemed fine to many in the pews as long as the Eucharist was validly confected. Yet, such an environment begs the question: How many words can you remove from the Our Father before it’s no longer identifiable? How much change can the Mass sustain before it too becomes unrecognizable and morphs into a cult of self, no longer reflecting the splendor of Divine Worship? What the past 50 years of liturgical innovations have brought to light if anything is that when left to our own devises and personal creativity, we really don’t know how to pray as we ought.

“Instead of trying to form the liturgy, we need to allow the liturgy to form us.”

“Instead of trying to form the liturgy, we need to allow the liturgy to form us.”

This phrase is a great starting point for our weekly reflection on the liturgy. It is so full of meaning, so rich in content, and so magnificently formulated. Like food in the mouth we will take it in and break it down piece by piece, savoring every bite, chewing every morsel, and assimilating it into our Catholic consciousness. As food, digested thoroughly and properly, nourishes and strengthens one’s body so may this analysis and study serve to edify our intellects, nourish our understanding, and strengthen our faith.

“Instead of” – From the word “go” this phrase is offering something positive, something constructive, it is not simply offering a critique but an alternative, a solution, a resolution to the crisis in the liturgy.

Instead of “trying” –The liturgy is primarily Opus Dei (God’s work). Why should our efforts be exhausting and tiresome? They should not! While Vatican II calls for “that fully conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations”(Sacrosanctum Concilium, 14), the Vatican II documents in no way suggest that our efforts should be all-consuming and exasperating.
In the introduction of its Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, the Second Vatican Council states: “It is of the essence of the Church that she be both human and divine, visible and yet invisibly equipped, eager to act and yet intent on contemplation, present in this world and yet not at home in it; and she is all these things in such wise that in her the human is directed and subordinated to the divine, the visible likewise to the invisible, action to contemplation, and this present world to that city yet to come, which we seek” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 2).

The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is primarily “Opus Dei” (God’s work) not ours. As I stated in an earlier article, “Our participation is always secondary to the action of God.” To God belongs the glory! We participate or take “part” in the central action which is the saving and redeeming sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

Vatican II’s document on the Sacred Liturgy further states: “To promote active participation, the people should be encouraged to take part by means of acclamations, responses, psalmody, antiphons, and songs, as well as by actions, gestures, and bodily attitudes. And at the proper times all should observe a reverent silence” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 30).

The document continues: “That more perfect form of participation in the Mass whereby the faithful, after the priest's communion, receive the Lord's body from the same sacrifice, is strongly commended” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 55).

It is important to note that the “fully conscious and active participation” called for by Vatican II does not demand arduous activity, a strenuous struggle, or a laborious effort on our part, which ultimately leads to a false activism. Rather, Vatican II calls for a more balanced approach that incorporates a reverent silence, an attentive listening, a docile receptivity, which opens the door to God and His action.

As St. Paul writes in his letter to the Romans,“for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings. And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God’s will” (Romans 8:26-27).

Last week I wrote about the cacophony of noise, sound, and activity that have flooded the Roman Liturgy and have drowned out the voice of God making it all but impossible to encounter God and to hear Him speak. This discord and the lack of silent contemplation have led to a rather significant misunderstanding about the nature of the Mass.

Today, in many places, the Mass looks and sounds like a work of personal creativity, just something “we” do; prayers we say, gestures we perform, words we speak, and songs we sing. Many feel as though the Mass is just a work of personal creativity and herein lies a misunderstanding of catastrophic proportions. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is primarily Opus Dei (God’s work); it is not just something “we” do. Our action and participation is always and only secondary to God’s action and work.

Too often we treat the Mass like it’s our own baby that’s supposed to look like us, talk like us, and smell like us. Meanwhile, the Mass loses its catholic or universal character and becomes a product of the local congregation. We don’t have to travel far to witness this phenomenon.

Two elderly gentlemen from neighboring towns were at a restaurant having coffee together. They started to talk about their own churches. The one said, “We kneel.” The other said, “We don’t.” The one said, “We hold hands during the Our Father.” The other said, “We don’t.” The one said, “We join hands and hold them high in the air.” The other said, “We don’t.” The one said, “We say our own petitions out loud.” The other said, “We just have general intercessions.” Finally, they asked each other to which church they belonged and they both said, “I’m Catholic!”

The current state of affairs within the Church is truly absurd. The cult of self has infiltrated the Roman Liturgy and it has manifested its ugly face in so many ways. The Liturgy is not ours and it is not made for “self.” The liturgy belongs to the Universal Church and ought to be directed toward God. As Catholics we ought to desire “authentic” liturgy, not liturgy that looks, and acts, and smells like us, not liturgy that we are accustomed to, and not a liturgy that is the work of personal creativity. We should want authentic liturgy that draws us toward the divine not toward “self.” We should desire liturgy that draws us up into heaven not down into the ordinary. We should desire liturgy that seeks God not our own personal comfort.

Authentic liturgy can be realized and experienced through obedience to the Rite of the Catholic Church. Obedience comes from the Latin ob-audire which means to hear, to listen. We get the word “audio” cassette from the Latin audire because an audio cassette is something we play to hear and to listen. Obedience calls us to “listen” like the Blessed Virgin Mary, who heard the voice of God’s messenger: “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you.” In listening we encounter God and we allow Him to speak to us, to direct us, to mold us, to form us. In this way obedience calls us to be humble like the Blessed Virgin Mary, who said: “I am the handmaid of the Lord” (Lk 1:38).

Obedience and humility help us to conquer self. These virtues help us to recognize the primacy of God. He is the master. God is the Potter, we are the clay. Instead of trying to form the liturgy we need to allow the liturgy to form us.

I recently read an article that interviewed two women from Boston who are in their early 30’s and they were both Catholic-educated, cradle Catholics, who kept their faith, but struggled to remain in the pews, and attend Mass regularly. The first had a problem with the Church’s doctrines and politics. In regards to the second, the article states: “Her problem is not Church politics. It’s weighing the value of getting ‘everybody up and out the door’ on the only day the family can relax vs. the spiritual nourishment she receives from taking the trouble. Too often, that nourishment is missing. Mass becomes ‘one more thing I have to do,’ she says.”

Due to a variety of liturgical innovations and numerous attempts to make the Mass more relevant by involving more and more people, it really comes as no surprise that people are left feeling as if the Mass is just “one more thing I have to do.” There is so much activity during Mass; one can hardly keep from feeling this way. In some places, the Mass is so hectic and totally submerged in noise and activity that it seems more like a variety show or rock concert. Silent contemplation has disappeared and as a result many people go back home feeling unnourished without having encountered God. Regardless of all this, the Mass is not and can never be considered just “one more thing I have to do.”

The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is primarily “Opus Dei,” (God’s work) not ours. Our participation is always secondary to the action of God. The primacy belongs to God. How can you encounter somebody if you are doing all of the talking? How can you encounter somebody without silent and attentive listening? How can you encounter somebody if they can’t get a word in edgewise? The answer is: “You can’t!” If you think the Mass is just “one more thing that you have to do,” it’s not! In the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass Jesus is the Priest, the Victim, and the Altar. The Mass is “Opus Dei” (God’s work), He nourishes us at the table of His Word for it is written: “One does not live by bread alone” (Mt. 4:4). Again, at the altar it is Jesus Christ, who feeds us with his own Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity broken and given to us in the Eucharist.

If the Mass is boring, theatrical, trivial, or all of the above, perhaps we need to recall the words of Jesus to Martha whereupon he says to her: “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her” (Lk 10:41).

In this ranch-style post-modern world where God seems absent and man the only master, as if he were the architect and director of all things, it comes as no surprise that we view the liturgy as just “one more thing I have to do.” Nevertheless, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is primarily “Opus Dei” (God’s work). We merely participate. That is, we take “part” in the central action which is the Sacrifice of Jesus Christ. The true master of the Liturgy is not man, but God. Jesus says: “I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.” (Jn 10:18) This scripture passage makes clear that Jesus is in charge and that the primacy belongs to God. God is the true master not man. The Gospel says: “Watch therefore for you do not know when the master of the house will be coming, in the evening, at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning, lest he come suddenly and find you asleep.” (Mk 13:35-36).

“Conversi ad Dominum!” This is an ancient Christian greeting, an invitation to prayer, and also a call to conversion. Translated, this Latin phrase literally means, “Turn toward the Lord!” This phrase sums up the essence of the Christian Liturgy. The foundation of the Liturgy is and must always remain the search for God. When we forget God and make Him “the Great Absent One”, when we make the liturgy for ourselves and place ourselves before God we experience what has been called an “eclipse of God,” which leads to a lack of connection with God, a separation from God, a turning away from God, and ultimately an elimination of God. “You cannot serve two masters”, scripture says, “You will either hate one and love the other or be devoted to one and despise the other.” (Matt 6:24)

In order to combat the cult of self that has undoubtedly infiltrated the Roman Liturgy and has done tremendous harm to the Church and Her members, not to mention the suffering inflicted upon Christ, Her Head, we must restore the primacy of God!

The Church is made to praise, to adore, and to glorify God, as the Psalmist prays in Psalm 115: “Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory”. Immediately following this verse the Psalmist asks: “Why should the nations say, ‘Where is their God?’” This is a question echoed today, by many of our contemporaries. They ask, “Where is their God?” They say, “How can God be truly present in the Christian Liturgy and substantially present (Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity) in the Eucharist, when many Christians continue to walk in the ways of the world, display no discipline, exhibit a deficiency of faith and virtue, and cling to their sins rather than the Cross of Jesus Christ?” These are excellent questions, for they reveal a very fundamental expectation of the liturgy. People expect prayer, religion, and worship to be transformative. People expect you to be changed by any authentic encounter with Jesus Christ.

If the primacy of God is restored and He is no longer considered “the Great Absent One” but is rather the One whom we adore, then we will not go home, after the celebration of the Eucharist, without having encountered God personally or having heard Him in the depths of our hearts. If we do not place ourselves before God so as to experience an “eclipse of God,” then the Light of Christ will shine unobstructed upon us and will guide our feet and direct our paths. If we give back to God, all His primacy, then we will indeed be changed and transformed by the liturgy, we will bear fruit in abundance, and will give glory to the Father by the witness of our lives.

However, if we do not “turn toward the Lord” and the liturgy is self-enclosed then we will see and experience meaningless and trivial activity, an illusion of sacredness, something perishable and not eternal.

In the upcoming weeks I will discuss the subtle ways in which the liturgy can become a self-enclosed reality, the ways in which a “cult of self” can be seen in the Sunday celebration of the Eucharist, and perhaps most importantly, I will discuss the proper ways to approach God if we are to seek Him, encounter Him, and Turn toward the Lord.

In the first two installments of our liturgical inquiry we established that one of the distinct goals of the liturgy is Heaven. The liturgy is a kind of anticipation, a prelude, a rehearsal for eternity, for the life to come. Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI communicates this clearly when he relates the liturgy to the Exodus event, which had as its goal “the reaching of the Promised Land.”

Heaven, the true Promised Land is not merely a far off distant place. Heaven is eternal union, and communion with the Triune God. We are told that in Heaven the angels and saints enjoy the beatific vision and gaze upon the face of God. Heaven, therefore, is not simply some remote future destination. Heaven is a person and this person has a face, this person has a name, and this person is Jesus Christ.

In the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, Jesus is present in four distinct ways:

(1) Jesus is present in the People (the visible Church Militant as well as the invisible Church Triumphant, the saints in Heaven.)

(2) Jesus is present through the Priest, who stands In Persona Christi.

(3) Jesus is present in the Inspired Word of God.

(4) Jesus is uniquely and truly present in a real and substantial way (Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity) in the Holy Eucharist.

Therefore, in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, Heaven is present because the whole Christ is present, both the Body and the Head. If Heaven is one of the distinct goals of the liturgy then it follows that to experience Heaven we must first and foremost encounter Christ.

To encounter Christ we must be present not just in body but in mind and heart as well. We must be properly disposed, open, docile, and in a state of grace. This encounter is a face to face meeting and therefore we must turn our attention radically toward God. Our whole being must be turned toward Christ.

Conversion or turning toward Christ is a movement in which we go out to meet the Lord; a movement in which we go up to meet the Lord, a movement in which we are liberated from self. Therefore true worship can never be self-seeking. True worship is not about self-affirmation or self-gratification. True worship is concerned with God; his gaze, his look, his work, his action. However, we seldom approach the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass in this way.

We put too much stock on feelings and emotions today. Too often we hear it said: “I don’t get anything out of the Mass.” As if the main goal of the Mass is to satisfy self. Too often we want to draw God down into our own little world and use Him to accomplish our goals, to fulfill our desires, and to satisfy our wants. In this way we place ourselves above God and we worship not the True God but the golden calf of our own ego.

If the cult of self is to be fought and opposed with the greatest intensity and if we are to truly encounter Christ then we must turn toward the Lord!

In his book The Spirit of the Liturgy, Pope Benedict XVI, helps us to understand the concept of divine worship through the scriptural account of the Exodus. He states that the Exodus event had “two distinct goals” the first of which “is the reaching of the Promised Land” and the second goal is to offer God true worship. This goal is expressed in Exodus 7:16 and repeated four times in Moses’ interactions with Pharaoh wherein God gives His command to Pharaoh: “Let my people go, that they may serve me in the wilderness.”

Meanwhile, Pharaoh attempts to negotiate with Moses and repeatedly tries to get him to compromise. He allows them the freedom to worship “within the land” (Ex 8:25), later he gives permission for the men to go out and to worship their God (Ex 10:11), and finally he gives permission to the women and children to go out with the men but they were to leave their flocks and their herds behind in Egypt (Ex 10:24). Needless to say, all of Pharaoh’s negotiations were futile. No compromise was possible for such a concession would prove contrary to God’s will and command.

Eventually, when God’s servant Moses prevailed, they did as the Lord commanded. “On the morning of the third day” as they rested from their wanderings in the desert “there were peals of thunder and lightning, and a heavy cloud over the mountain.” At this “the people in the camp trembled.” “But” the story continues, “Moses led the people out of the camp to meet God, and they stationed themselves at the foot of the mountain” which was “completely enveloped in smoke…because the LORD had come down upon it in fire.” The mountain shook from top to bottom “as Moses spoke and God answered him with thunder.” Then “the LORD came down upon Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain,” and He “summoned Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up” (Exodus 19: 16-20). It was then that God gave Moses’ the stone tablets of the Law and made a covenant with His People through His servant Moses.

Throughout their experience in the desert, Israel learned how to worship God according to His will and His commands. They came to understand that true worship consists in doing God’s will. Furthermore, they came to realize that all of life is a liturgy and gives glory to God if it is in fact ordered and directed toward Him. Therefore, right worship requires conversion – turning toward God. Cult, liturgy as we understand it, is this turning toward the LORD. For, as Pope Benedict XVI reminds us, liturgy “exists in order to communicate this vision and to give life” (Spirit of the Liturgy, 18).

To conclude, the liturgy is a kind of Exodus; a departure, which is at the same time a return. The Liturgy is a turning around; a return to right living and ultimately a return to God.

As the Psalmist says: “What return should I make to the Lord, for all the things he hath given to me? I will take the chalice of salvation; and I will call upon the name of the Lord. I will pay my vows to the Lord before all his people: precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. O Lord, for I am thy servant: I am thy servant, and the son of thy handmaid. Thou hast broken my bonds: I will sacrifice to thee the sacrifice of praise, and I will call upon the name of the Lord” (Psalm 116:12-16).

When I was a young boy not having yet reached the age of reason I remember playing church, school, and war with my siblings. As we played we were in our own little world with its own set of rules. Each of us had different roles to play. When we played church we took turns being the priest, the altar boys and the congregation. When we played school my sister was usually the teacher and my twin brother and I were her star students. When we played war we were all soldiers fighting against an invisible army.

Looking back it seemed in many ways to be a kind of anticipation of life. My brother and I are now priests; my sister has five children of her own all of whom she helps with their homework and their studies; as a family we continue our struggle and our fight against invisible forces. “For,” as St. Paul reminds us, “our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens” (Ephesians 6:12).

In my seminary days I remember one of the Benedictine Fathers teaching me about the liturgy and likening it to “play” because like children’s games it takes you out of this world into a kind of other world. He described the liturgy as an oasis, a retreat, in which a person experiences healing and liberation. He explained that the liturgy was a kind of anticipation, a prelude, a rehearsal for eternity, for the life to come.

However insufficient such an analogy may be, it helps us to appreciate the liturgy in an unsophisticated way and at the same time invites us to the rediscovery of true childhood, of pure openness, and to see afresh the theology of Hope that is sewn into the very fabric of the Mass.

The Liturgy has two distinct goals. The first is Heaven, for that is why we were created; to love God, to know God, and to serve God in this world, so that we might be happy with Him forever in the next. The second goal is Divine Worship; the service, praise, and adoration of Almighty God. Put in other terms the purpose of the Liturgy is to glorify God and to sanctify man. To these two ends we offer God thanksgiving, we entreat the Lord, we petition Him, and the Mass itself satisfies the justice of God for the sins committed against Him.

In the coming weeks I will be presenting a catechesis on the liturgy of the Catholic Church and the purpose of these lessons is to communicate an authentic understanding of the Roman liturgy and the Sunday celebration of the Eucharist.

I hope these meditations will be a source of spiritual growth, enrichment, and edification. At the outset of this endeavor, I call upon the intercession of the ever glorious Blessed Virgin Mary, St. John the Beloved Disciple, and the Archangel Michael that they might intercede on our behalf and bless our efforts so that our faith may be enlivened, our devotion deepened, and our prayer perfected in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.