30 October 2022

Worcester Diaconate Retreat: THE EUCHARIST AND DIAKONIA

 

I

THE EUCHARIST AND DIAKONIA: 

AN INTRODUCTION


Do you resolve to discharge the office of Deacon with humble charity in order to assist the priestly Order and to benefit the Christian people? 


Like its predecessors, the newest edition of the Roman Missal echoes the Council Fathers who saw normative Eucharistic celebration as Mass celebrated in the local church by the Bishop “surrounded by his presbyterate, deacons, and lay ministers ... in which the holy people of God take full and active part, for herein is the preeminent expression of the Church.”1


From the Council Fathers to the latest edition of the Roman Missal, then, the Deacon assumes an indispensable, normative role in the celebration of the Eucharist. 'Two significant changes in the new Roman Missal reinforce this point.

Strikingly, the structure of the General Instruction has been altered to describe just two basic forms of Mass: Mass without a Deacon and Mass with a Deacon. Thus, while describing with greater precision the specific roles assumed by the Deacon, the new Missal emphasises the all-pervasive effect that presence has to enhance and alter the shape of the celebration.


Secondly, in an entirely new section, we are told that “after the priest, the deacon, has first place among those who minister in the celebration of the Eucharist.”2


Two points should be made here. First, this concentration on the importance of the role of the Deacon is nothing new. It echoes the words of Pope Paul VI, who in 1972 observed that: “Since the apostolic age itself the diaconate has had a distinctive and superior rank among these ministries and has always been held in great honor by the Church.”3 In this regard he recalls how Saint Paul explicitly greeted not only the Bishops but also the Deacons,4 and describes in detail the qualifications for this important ministry.5


Likewise, he recalls the great martyr, St. Ignatius of Antioch who described the ministry of the Deacon as the same as “the ministry of Jesus Christ, who was with the Father before all ages and has been manifested in the final time.” As Saint Ignatius equates the Deacon's ministry with Christ's, he also recalls the Lord's command to his disciples to love others as he had first loved them.


 The Deacon is called to be first of all the minister, after the model of Christ, who came to serve and not to be served. 

 

The same Christ who told us that he who would be first should put himself last, should become like a little child and should be the servant of all, is the same Christ who through his Church calls the Deacon first of all the minister. The same Christ who died upon a Cross as they cursed and spat upon him, is the one who calls the Deacon to love others as he has loved him.

Thus, right from the start the definition of diakonia as kenotic self-giving and service at both the table of sacrifice and the table of charity must guide us in our reading of the identity and function of the Deacon as envisioned by the latest revision of the Roman Missal.


The Role of the Deacon

Paragraph 94 of the new General Instruction gives us the reasons for its high estimation of diaconal ministry. The predominance of the Deacon is due both to the high honor in which this order has always been held and to the functions of the Deacon at Mass.


It is precisely those functions which I suggest give us an even clearer picture of who the Deacon is in the eyes of the Church, lex orandi, lex credendi. For as the Deacon serves the Liturgy, so he is called to serve the Church and the place he takes in the former is descriptive of the place which belongs to him in the latter.


While I am not suggesting that valid observations about the ministry and identity of the Deacon cannot be derived from other sources, the Liturgy is the privileged place for reflection on the meaning and ministry of the diaconate. 


In the homily at each Deacon's ordination the Bishop reminds him that among his most basic roles is to "prepare the sacrifice, and give the Lord's Body and Blood to the community of believers.”6


And those Deacons who dwell in God's house are called to five roles that reveal the essential characteristics of diaconal ministry. Those four roles described by the new Roman Missal are Deacon as Servant, Proclaimer, Voice, and Dispenser. 

 

Servant of Bishop, Priest, and Altar

As we have implied above, the Deacon's first role is one of diakonia. That role takes on concrete form at Mass as the Deacon is called to assist the Priest or Bishop, but especially at the altar in the Preparation of the Gifts and during the Communion Rite.


St. Polycarp of Smyrna is the first to tell that the Deacon is called upon to be “disciplined in all things, merciful, diligent, walking according to the truth of the Lord, who became the servant of all.” Likewise, the Didascalia Apostolorum, recalls the words of Christ, "Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant.”7


All of this is echoed in each Ordination of a Deacon, which is replete with reminders of the diakonia to which Deacons are called. In his homily the Bishop reminds us that the Deacon "will help the bishop and his body of priests as ministers of the Word, of the altar, and of charity. They will make themselves servants to all." Shortly thereafter, the Bishop turns to the man who will soon be ordained a Deacon and says: “My son, ... the Lord has set an example for you to follow. As a deacon you will serve Jesus Christ, who was known among his disciples as the one who served others.”


An intimate and reciprocal connection between the Deacon as minister of charity and servant of the Priest and the altar has been with the Church through the ages, as we are reminded by the following early twelfth century description of the Deacon that mirrors almost to the letter the roles assigned by the new Roman Missal:


It pertains to deacons to assist priests and to minister in all things which are done in the sacraments of Christ; that is, in baptism, in chrism, in the paten and chalice, to carry the oblations and place them on the altar, to take care of and decorate the table of the Lord; to carry the cross, and to read the ... gospel to the people .... To deacons also pertain the recitation of prayer and the reading of names of new catechumens. The deacon admonishes all to hear the Lord; he gives peace and he announces ... deacons receive the texts of the gospel that they may know themselves to be preachers of the gospel of Christ.8


How, then, does the new Roman Missal call upon the Deacon to serve the altar and the Priest?


In the preparation of the liturgy, the Deacon should see to it that the necessary vessels and vestments are properly arranged for the celebration. He should also see that the liturgical books are properly prepared, and that the texts for the celebration are marked with ribbons.


The Deacon accompanies the Priest at almost all times and may offer the introductions and directions in place of the Priest. He assists with incense and the sprinkling with Holy Water and is seated near the chair so that he might be available to direct any and all practicalities. If catechumens are present, the Deacon may dismiss them before the Profession of Faith.


Most importantly, the Deacon prepares the altar and assists the Priest in receiving the assembly's gifts or may receive them himself. He prepares the chalice and hands the gifts to the priest, who places them upon the altar.


The Deacon assists with the breaking of the bread. As an ordinary minister of Holy Communion, the Deacon also assists with the purification of sacred vessels.


During the Eucharistic Prayer the Deacon assists with the care and even elevation of the chalice and the incensation of the consecrated elements. The new Roman Missal prescribes that while for most of the Eucharistic Prayer the Deacon stands near the altar when his ministry involves the chalice and Missal, “as a rule” he kneels from the epiclesis to the elevation of the chalice.9 ‘"As much as possible, the Deacon stands back from the altar, slightly behind the concelebrants.”10 Three principles seem to dictate the posture of the Deacon during the Eucharistic Prayer: 


First, that he be well positioned to perform his role as principal assistant to the Priest; second, that it be clear that the Deacon is performing diaconal assistance and not concelebrating and third, that the Deacon model the posture of the faithful.


Thus the rites of the Church make clear that diakonia means service and expresses the inextricable link between the diaconal ministry of charity and the liturgical diakonia. For just as the Eucharistic celebration is the source of all authentic Christian spirit and the summit of the entire Christian life, what the Church does at Liturgy is the prototype for what she does in life. The Deacon servant of the poor is thus the Deacon servant of the altar.

______________________


II

THE EUCHARIST, DIAKONIA AND THE GOSPEL


I’d like to begin with two moments from the Ordination of a Deacon. First, with a promise:


Do you resolve to hold fast to the mystery of faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and to proclaim this faith in word and deed according to the Gospel and the Church’s tradition? 


Notice the Deacon promises to proclaim the Gospel in word and in deed, bringing to mind the old saying of Saint Francis: Preach always, and use words when you have to!


At the foundation of the Deacon’s ministry is the Gospel of Christ, which is why from the tenth century, the presentation of the Book of the Gospels at the ordination of a Deacon has signified that the Deacon was a minister of the liturgical proclamation of the Gospel. The Ordination Rite recognises the diaconal ministry of the word in the rite of presentation:


Receive the Gospel of Christ, whose herald you are. 

Believe what you read,

teach what you believe,

and practice what you teach.


But what is this Gospel and why is it’s proclamation associated so closely with the Deacon?


The introduction to the Lectionary for Mass reminds us that “the liturgical tradition of both West and East has consistently made a certain distinction between the books for the readings,”11 and that the proclamation of the Gospel at Mass is “the high point of the liturgy of the word.”12 


This is why the proclamation of the Gospel is set off from the other readings by special marks of honor. In the words of the General Instruction:


…by the fact of which minister is appointed to proclaim it and by the blessing or prayer with which he prepares himself; and also by the fact that through their acclamations the faithful acknowledge and confess that Christ is present and is speaking to them and stand as they listen to the reading; and by the mere fact of the marks of reverence that are given to the Book of the Gospels.13


Why is the Gospel accorded such honor?  Because it alone contains the very words and saving actions of Christ. It is only fitting, therefore, that the Deacon serve as the minister of this book of him who chose to serve all mankind until death upon a Cross.


The Roman Missal directs that the Deacon carry the Book of the Gospels in the entrance procession “slightly elevated.”14 When arriving at the altar with the Book of the Gospels, he does not bow, but immediately places the Book of the Gospels on the altar and then kisses the altar at the same time the priest does.15 


Greater detail is given to the Deacon's role in the proclamation of the Gospel as well. He is to bow when asking for the blessing and when taking the Book of the Gospels from the altar.16 A description of the optional kissing of the Book of the Gospels by the Bishop is likewise included. The Deacon may proclaim the readings, but only in the absence of a qualified reader.17 Likewise, the homily may, on occasion, be given by the Deacon.18


The Book of the Gospels

And so, from the earliest days of the Church, a specially bound book has been set aside for the proclamation of the Gospel, as in this fifth century mosaic of Saint Lawrence in the tomb of Galla Placidia in Ravenna.


The introduction to the U.S. edition of the Book of the Gospels gives us a clearer understanding of purpose and use of this sacred book. 


So clearly is the Book of the Gospels a sign of Christ present in the liturgy that it is revered with the same holy kiss given to the altar. (no. 6) 


Thus, the Book of the Gospels as a sign of the presence of Christ in his word proclaimed, is always accorded a place of honor in the Church's liturgy. It is borne by the deacon in solemn procession for the veneration of the entire congregation and accompanied by candles and incense at Mass. The presentation of the Book of the Gospels to the newly ordained deacon "symbolizes the office of the deacon to proclaim the Gospel in liturgical celebrations and to preach the faith of the Church in word and deed.” (no. 7)


And this is why, as well, that at your ordination, the Bishop urges you to ever cling to the Gospel of which you are now a herald. They are the closing words to his homily and a good cause for meditation even today.


Never allow yourselves to be turned away from the hope offered by the Gospel. Now you are not only hearers of this Gospel but also its ministers. Hold the mystery of faith with a clear conscience. Express by your actions the word of God which your lips proclaim, so that the Christian people, brought to life by the Spirit, may be a pure offering accepted by God. Then on the last day, when you go out to meet the Lord you will be able to hear him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord.” 




_________________


III

THE EUCHARIST, DIAKONIA 

AND THE CUP OF SALVATION 


From the earliest days of the Church, the Deacon has been the minister of the Precious Blood. He bears the cup of eternal salvation and ministers it to God's holy people. Thus the new Roman Missal prescribes that at Communion, the Priest himself gives Communion to the Deacon under both kinds. When Communion is given to the faithful under both kinds, the Deacon ministers the chalice. After Communion has been distributed, the Deacon, at the altar, reverently consumes any of the Blood of Christ that remains.19


All this begins with the sixth promise taken by the Deacon at his ordination: to shape his way of life “always according to the example of Christ, whose body and blood [they] will give to the people.” This promise, in turn, is rooted in the earliest prayer for the ordination of a Deacon found in the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus, which mentions but one specific task assigned to the Deacon: “to bring forward [in your holy of holies] the gifts which are offered to you by your appointed high priests.”20


Diakonia in the Model of Christ Jesus

We began this brief reflection by recalling Saint Ignatius' description of the Deacon as a minister in the model of Christ Jesus. I wish to conclude by calling all Deacons to see everything they do at Mass as an opportunity to make themselves vessels through which Christ Jesus can be made present to his holy people. Yet just as Christ's perfect sacrifice was accomplished through his kenotic self-emptying, so Deacons are called to empty themselves each time they seek to serve the Sacrifice of the altar.


When the Deacon comes to serve, he must empty himself from all selfish concerns. He must see himself as servant of the Liturgy and never its master. He must minister to the priest and to the altar with the humility of him whose very Body and Blood were offered on the altar of the Cross.


When he comes to proclaim the Gospel, the Deacon must empty himself of all his worldly wisdom that he might be filled only with the wisdom of God. He must decrease so that the Word of God might take root in him and those who hear his voice may hear not him, but Christ Jesus who lives in him. His acclamation of "the Gospel of the Lord"must ring authentic and true.


When he proclaims intercessions or invites the people to prayer, the faithful must recognise in the Deacon the trustworthy and compassionate man to whom they may go with any of their needs. The poor must know him as their friend. Orphans must see him as their father, and all who are alone, afraid or confused must see in him a refuge in the model of Christ Jesus. All must have such trust in his prudence and charity that his wise guidance is spontaneously welcomed.


Finally, all who receive the Saviour’s Precious Blood from the Deacon's hands must receive the chalice as from one who knows the meaning of sacrifice, of being poured out for God's people, and of striving for holiness of life. The Deacon, too, must take up the cup of salvation as one whose very life is a hymn of praise to the Lord. For the cup he bears is his salvation and a model of the life to which he is called as a Deacon.


What the new Roman Missal and the Church ask of the Deacon is to become more like Christ. To participate in his Paschal Death and Resurrection by how he lives and how he prays, by what he does and who he has become.


This is the mystery of diaconal ministry at the altar. It is the mystery of the Church and the mystery of all who are called to the Supper of the Lamb!


The association of the Chalice with the Deacon is ancient, and may well have its origins in the fact that someone has to minister the Precious Blood, while the Priest ministers Holy Communion under the form of bread.


Bearer of the Cup of Salvation

From the earliest days of the Church, the Deacon has been the minister of the Precious Blood. He bears the cup of eternal salvation and ministers it to God's holy people. Thus the new Roman Missal prescribes that at Communion, the Priest himself gives Communion to the Deacon under both kinds. When Communion is given to the faithful under both kinds, the Deacon ministers the chalice. After Communion has been distributed, the Deacon, at the altar, reverently consumes any of the Blood of Christ that remains.21


All this begins with the sixth promise taken by the Deacon at his ordination: to shape his way of life "always according to the example of Christ, whose body and blood [they] will give to the people." This promise, in turn, is rooted in the earliest prayer for the ordination of a Deacon found in the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus, which mentions but one specific task assigned to the Deacon: "to bring forward [in your holy of holies] the gifts which are offered to you by your appointed high priests.”22


While the Deacon is closely associated with the Holy Eucharist, he is most intimately associated with the Precious Blood, from the earliest days of the Church, as in the fascinating story of Saint Lawrence.


Saint Augustine tells us that “Lawrence was a deacon of the Church of Rome; there he ministered the sacred blood of Christ and there he poured out his own blood for the sake of Christ’s name.”


It is perhaps due to this early testimony that, of all the candidates for the Holy Grail, the actual chalice used by Christ at the last supper, the most likely is the chalice preserved in a bullet-proof case in the Cathedral of Valencia, in Spain. 

 

This Chalice, with an ancient agate stone cup, is traditionally associated with the Deacon martyr Lawrence.

 

Lawrence is supposed to have been born in Spain, traveling to Rome at a young age, where he worked closely with Pope Sixtus I (Linus, Cletus, Clement Sixtus), the same Pope who was martyred by Valerian just three days before the Deacon Lawrence.


As the story goes, Lawrence had convinced Pope Sixtus to give away all the treasures of the Church to feed the poor. The one exception were the irreplaceable relics, including the Chalice use by the Lord at the Last Supper. So, Sixtus entrusted Lawrence with all of these.


The day after Sixtus was martyred, the Roman authorities came to Lawrence and demanded he turn over all the treasures of the Church within three days. At which time, according to Saint Donato, Lawrence gave the Holy grail to a Spanish soldier to be carried off to Spain. 


A mosaic in the Church of San Lorenzo fuori le mura (built over Lawrence’s grave) is said to have testified to this fact before it was destroyed by an American bomb during the Second World War.


Such is the intriguing story of the Holy Grail, all wrapped up in the early association of the Deacon with the Chalice and the Precious Blood it carries, at least from the time of the shedding of the blood of the good Deacon Lawrence in 258 A.D.


An intriguing story and an answer to the question each Deacon is asked when they are ordained:


Do you resolve to conform your way of life always to the example of Christ, of whose Body and Blood you are ministers at the altar?


______________________


IV

THE EUCHARIST, DIAKONIA AND THE POOR 


From the earliest days of the Church, the inspiration and foundation of the diaconate is clear: to take care of those whom everyone else has forgotten.


The Testamentum Domini (Testament of the Lord) is a fourth century Syriac manuscript, alleged to contain the Lord Jesus’ instructions for the organisation of the Church and other matters, as given to his disciples before his Ascension into heaven. While the Church has never accepted it with the same canonicity as the scriptures, it does reflect the practice of the Church in its first few centuries of life.


It addresses a whole raft of issues, including the hours of prayer, how to bury the dead, the arrangement of churches, how to visit the sick, what to do when people manifest charismata or spiritual gifts, and the roles of Bishop, priest and deacon. 


It describes the deacon as:


…the one who shows love for orphans, for the devout and for the widowed, one who is fervent in spirit, one who shows love for what is good.23

So, from the first days of the Church, you are the one who shows love to the poor and love for what is good.


This is why, liturgically, the Deacon is the ordinary minister of the Kyrie, all litanies, and even the general intercessions. He articulates the “cry of the poor” and the broken, because he is the minister most intimately acquainted with the pains, sorrows, and struggles of those most in need of our prayers. He is, in a very real sense, their voice, both in the Liturgy and in the world. For, in a sense, the general intercessions are the prototype of diaconal prayer.


All of which is because the Deacon is the one who loves the good.


When I was younger, I understood the imperative of caring for the poor. Jesus told us, after all, that unless we fed the hungry, clothed the naked and cared for the poor, we were going to hell.


When I was younger, then, I was convinced I understood the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. 

 

The rich man went to hell because he refused to feed the poor man, over whom he would step each time he went into dinner.


And I was right. But, not completely… as growing older has often taught me.


For, what if the rich man had simply slipped Lazarus a $10 bill each time he saw him.  Maybe dropped it from his pocket as he walked over him on the way to dinner.  Would that have made a difference?


Well, it certainly would have made Lazarus $70 richer each week, and maybe even a little less hungry.  But there’s something more going on here.  For while Jesus tells us that Lazarus would have gladly eaten the scraps from the rich man’s table, was the Rich Man’s only sin that he did not feed Lazarus?


No. His real sin was that he did not love Lazarus.  Not enough to feed him, to listen to him, to care for him or to recognise in him another human being. 


It’s like Mother Theresa. Her work in life was not to cure or even treat the dying. She never built a hospital and seldom had doctors at her House for the Dying. It was just a house for the dying, where she and her sisters could love people who were dying. Love them, that’s all.


For as Saint Paul tells us, “if I have not love I am nothing.” But then we mess it all up. We so often end up loving things and using people, rather than the other way around.


Which is why the Rich Man went to hell.


————


I remember when I was in graduate school in Washington D.C., my one break from studying and writing my dissertation was to go down to Union Station on the Metro for breakfast. The station empties out on the lower level of the Union Station and you go up a long escalator to get to the food court. And at the top of the escalator a dozen or more beggars would inevitably gather and push up against the crowd, looking for a handout.


At first, I just looked the other way, like most of the people. And then I started to feel really guilty, so I began giving out a couple of five dollar bills. But then I figured out that some of the beggars were druggies and would end up shooting up with my two five dollar bills.


So, I went MacDonalds and got a bunch of gift certificates, until I saw one of the recipients of my largesse selling the certificate at less than face value for a bottle of Thunderbird in a brown paper bag.


So, with the advice of a wise old spiritual director, I decided not to hand out money, but to invite one of the beggars to breakfast. And you know what happened? That “beggar” changed from a “that guy” to a real person, whose name I will never forget. 


Dan was once a lumberjack from Washington State with a wife, whoczmitted suicide after their son became an addict and ran away from home…and that’s when Dan decided to hide at the bottom of a bottle in the Casino in Portland, where he lost the house and then hitchhiked to Florida and then to Georgia, and finally to the top of the escalator in Union Station, where he met me, the Rich Man, who finally got tired of walking over him and his brothers on the way to breakfast.


Now I wish I could tell you that Dan, or any of the other guys I used to have breakfast with miraculously turned their lives around and became saints. But that’s not the way life works, except in the movies. I did not change anyone’s life. But I did learn his name, and I did listen to his story and I did share scrambled eggs and bacon with him.


Which does make me a saint. It makes me a human being, who at least once tried not treat Lazarus like a thing, 

 

looking the other way, and walking over him as I rushed off to hell.


So, in conclusion, let’s return to the Prayer the Church prays over the Deacon when she ordains him.


May there abound in them every Gospel virtue: 

unfeigned love, concern for the sick and poor,
unassuming authority, the purity of innocence,
and the observance of spiritual discipline. 


That is my prayer for you who exercise the diakonia of humble service in the person of Christ. You who minister at his altar, proclaim the Gospel to us, nourish us from the life-giving chalice and care for us when everyone else has forgotten.


Yours is this precious ministry. May God, who has begin this good work in you, bring it to completion.


_____________


1 Sacrosanctum concilium, no. 112.

2 Genral Instruction of the Roman Missal [GIRM], no. 94.

3 Ministeria quaedam.

4 cf. Phillipians 1:1.

5 cf. 1 Timothy 3:8-13.

6 Rite of Ordination of a Deacon.

7 Matthew 20:26-27.

8 Peter Lombard, Sentences (PL 192:903), as translated and quoted in Echlin, The Deacon in the Church, pages 84-85 [Sententiae N, dist. xxiv].

9 GIRM, no.179.

10 GIRM, no. 215.

11 Introduction to the Lectionary for Mass, no. 36.

12 Introduction to the Lectionary for Mass, no. 36, Ordo Lectionum Missae, no. 13.

13 GIRM, no. 60.

14 Cf. GIRM, no. 172.

15 Cf. GIRM, no. 175.

16 Cf. GIRM, no. 175.

17 Cf. GIRM, no. 176.

18 Cf., GIRM, no. 66.

19 Cf. GIRM, no. 182.

20 Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus (c. 215). H. Boone Porter, The Ordination Prayers of the Ancient Western Church (Alcuin Club Collections, no. XLIX; London, 1967), p. 12, adapted.

21 Cf. GIRM, no. 182.

22 Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus (c. 215). H. Boone Porter, The Ordination Prayers of the Ancient Western Church (Alcuin Club Collections, no. XLIX; London, 1967), p. 12, adapted. 

23 Testamentum D.N. Iesu Christi 1, 38: I.E. Rahmani, ed. and tr. (Mainz, 1899) 93.

23 October 2022

Full, Conscious and Active Participation: Offering the Sacrifices of our Lives

 Here is the script for a presentation given by me at a liturgical ministers’ conference in the diocese of Beaumont, Texas on October 22nd.

Every time I come to Beaumont, I remember the story of the guy from Boston who had finally had it with the snow, so he decided to move to West Texas. His idea of Texas, however, was born of watching old John Wayne movies.


So, he decided he needed to get himself a horse. But he didn’t have much money left. It’s expensive moving all the way across the country. So he went to an old used horse dealer at the edge of the desert, who had an old horse (with not too many miles on it) that used to belong to a now extinct Indian tribe. The only problem was that the horse did not understand English, but only this ancient Indian dialect.


You see in order to get the horse to go you said WOW. And in order to get it to go faster, you said WOW WOW. And in order to get it to go really fast you said WOW WOW WOW. And in order to get it to stop, you said AMEN (it’s last owner was a Catholic).

 

So, he gets up on the horse and he says WOW. And the horse starts moving. So, he says WOW WOW, and the horse starts galloping. So, he goes for broke and says WOW WOW WOW. And the horse is going lickety-split through the desert, and he’s going faster and faster.


Until, in the distance, he can see a cliff. So he says STOP!  WOUGH! ALT!  And nothing seems to work, and he’s getting closer and closest tot he cliff, until he finally yells AMEN!  And he’s two inches from the edge of the cliff and it’s four miles down and he says, WOW!


Wow!  What a powerful word.


But let’s try an even more powerful word, perhaps one of the most powerful words ever spoken: 

 

Memory.

 

For it is the word which was used by the Lord Jesus, the night before he died for us, commanding us to:


Do this in Memory of Me.

Which is why we go to Mass, or more precisely, why we celebrate the Eucharist as the source and summit of our lives.


When, sixty years ago, the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council published the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium, they called for a renewal of the Mass that would embrace one goal before all others: the “full, conscious, and active participation” of the faithful. 


Now, this participation wasn’t really a new idea at all, for the last several Popes before the Council were all preoccupied with engaging people in the and discouraging a purely passive experience of “hearing Mass, whereby the laity “payed prayed and obeyed” sitting there as “outsiders or onlookers.’"1 watching the ordained clergy perform all their sacred functions.


The Popes of the early twentieth century were suggesting, in fact, is that Jesus’ command to “Do this in memory of me” was addressed not just to the Clergy, but to the Baptized, as well.

 

Thus did Pope Pius XII issue a stirring call in his landmark Encyclical letter, Mediator Dei:


So that the faithful take a more active part in divine worship, . . . it is very necessary that they attend the sacred ceremonies not as if they were outsiders or mute onlookers, but let them fully appreciate the beauty of the liturgy and take part in the sacred ceremonies, alternating their voices with the priest and the choir, according to the prescribed norms. If, please God, this is done, it will not happen that the congregation hardly ever or only in a low murmur answer the prayers in Latin or in the vernacular.

 

''A congregation,"Pope Pius XII wrote, "that is devoutly present at the sacrifice, in which our Savior together with His children redeemed with His sacred blood sings the nuptial hymn of His immense love, cannot keep silent, for 'song befits the lover.’"

 

This is the solid foundation upon which the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council built the liturgical renewal that we have experienced in our lifetimes. And this participation is both a duty and a right of every individual by consequence of our Baptism. For it is in Baptism we are made members of the People of God, a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a redeemed people. This text from 1 Peter 2:9 is read to the newly baptized on Easter Saturday.

 

Participation in the Liturgy, then, is something far more important than the distribution of functions and roles, but is a fundamental disposition that flows into a whole way of life; those who take an active part in the Liturgy are transformed by it and go out from the liturgical assembly conscious of who they are and who they are called to be.

 

The Sacrifice of the Heart

Working from the Church's ancient understanding of Baptism, whereby those who are baptized into Christ are thereby called to his table as his children, entitled to eat and drink with the family of the Lord, the Council Fathers insisted that the purpose of life of the Baptized is  nothing less than participation in the Sacrifice of Christ himself.


Echoing Augustine, the Council Father taught us that the Liturgy is nothing less than our own sacrifice, by reason of our Baptism. In effect, all who are baptized are made priests, able to offer themselves “as a living sacrifice that is holy and acceptable to God.” (Romans 12:1) 


Neither in Judaism nor in the ancient world, was this kind of self-offering as a "living sacrifice" ever before heard of. Like Christ, however, each Christian baptized into his Death and Resurrection is called to make of his life a living sacrifice of praise.

 

The priesthood of the faithful, then, is made manifest in the work of offering sacrifice—not the bloody sacrifice of bulls or sheep, but the sacrifice of our lives. To quote the Conciliar decree Presbyterorum ordinis, “….priests [then] must instruct their people to offer to God the Father the Divine Victim in the Sacrifice of the Mass, and to join to it the offering of their own lives.” (Presbyterorum ordinis, no. 5.)


When Pope Benedict XVI was preparing his post-synodal Apostolic Exhortation on the Synod on the Eucharist, many were surprised when he chose to comment on what seems to us to be a fairly ordinary part of the Mass, the Presentation of the Gifts. Yet, he pointed our there is great significance in this actions for who we are at Mass and what we are called to be.


“This humble and simple gesture is actually very significant,” he wrote, for “in the bread and wine that we bring to the altar, all creation is taken up by Christ the Redeemer to be transformed and presented to the Father. In this way we also bring to the altar all the pain and suffering of the world, in the certainty that everything has value in God's eyes.” (Sacramentum Caritatis, no. 47)


Indeed, in the Presentation of the gifts it becomes evident a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, are joining the sacrifices of their lives with the one and perfect sacrifice of Christ upon the Cross. When gifts of bread and wine are placed into the hands of the Priest, it is not just bread that is offered, but with those pieces of bread are mixed all the sacrifices of our lives. And with the wine in that cruet are mixed the joys and sorrows, the longings and holy desires of each member of the gathered assembly. 


We place those gifts into the hands of the Priest, offering them to Christ. Then the Priest, acting in the person of Christ, places those gifts upon the altar in the same way that Christ placed his body upon the altar of the Cross in a perfect sacrifice of praise. These are the gifts that will be transformed by the great Eucharistic Prayer into the very Body and Blood of Christ, and then returned to us as our nourishment that we might have the strength to continue to join ourselves with Christ's sacrifice every day of our lives.

 

The French poet Paul Claudel6 once wrote of this moment: “Your prayers, and your faith, and your blood, with His in the chalice. These, like the water and wine, form the matter of his sacrifice.”

  

And this participation, this offering of the sacrifice of our lives, is not something we do alone. Rather we do it in communion with the whole Church, as people bring their sacrifices to Altars from Boston to Beaumont, all joined by the same Altar, the same Christ and the same perfect Sacrifice of Praise.

 

Back in the 1950’s, at the Assisi Liturgical Conference, Cardinal Suhard put it best:


"Therefore when you approach the altar, never come alone. Together with yourselves, you have the power and the mission to save your home, your street, your city, and the whole of civilization. . . . The worker will offer up the monotony of assembly-line work or the joy of skilled craftsmanship. The mother of a family will offer up her household cares, her fears for a sick child. The man of science will offer up the world of ideas, the universe whose depth and breadth have been tapped. It is the task of the scholar, the philosopher, the sociologist, the artist, at this turning point in the world’s history, to gather the world together in order to raise it up to the Father.”


That is what the priest means when he says: “Pray brethren, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God the Almighty Father.” My sacrifice…the sacrifice of Christ which I was ordained to offer with and for you, and your sacrifices (in the plural!). All offered on that Altar and joined to the perfect sacrifice of Christ. 


Participation from the Inside Out

Our Participation in the Liturgy is not, therefore, just what we see on the outside: standing, kneeling, responding and singing. Our Participation in the liturgy is from the inside out.


Thus, our demands that we be prepared "with the dispositions of a suitable heart and mind. What [we] think and feel must be at one with what they say; they must do their part in the working of grace that comes from above if they are not to have received it in vain."


This is one boat, I fear, that the Church has too often missed. For while we have spent much time arranging furniture and books and telling people where to stand and what to do, we have not spent enough time or energy moving souls and hearts and people to be more like Christ, so that they might be joined with him in the great sacrifice of praise that is the Liturgy.

 

A great example of this relationship between the internal and external at the Liturgy is found in what the Roman Missal tells us about the posture of the faithful at Mass.


’'A common posture, to be observed by all participants, is a sign of the unity of the members of the Christian community gathered for the sacred Liturgy: it both expresses and fosters the intention and spiritual attitude of the participants.”6


External liturgical action, then, grows from an internal intention. Common liturgical action strengthens that internal or spiritual attitude and is motivated by our common conviction that we are not gathered as strangers or individuals, but as a priestly people, called and made one with Christ on his great sacrifice of praise. Such common external action in turn strengthens our internal, foundational unity in Christ, who is the source of all unity and praise.


Another great example of participation in the Liturgy starting from the heart is found in an extended theological description of who the Priest is at Mass. Perhaps more strongly than any other postconciliar description of the Priest, the new Roman Missal speaks of the primacy of the internal and its determinative role on external participation in the liturgical action:

 

When he celebrates the Eucharist, therefore, he must serve God and the people with dignity and humility, and by his bearing and by the way he says the divine words he must convey to the faithful the living presence of Christ.’


Here we find an exquisite description of what it means to minister in persona Christi. Not just by what he says, not just by where he moves and what he does should the Priest seek to show forth Christ to the gathered liturgical assembly. No. The new Missal proclaims that by the way he speaks and by the way he moves the Priest must convey, in dignity and humility, a living sense of the presence of Christ in the Liturgy.

 

Such participation is informed, internal, and profound. It demands that the person who distributes the Holy Eucharist does so with a full appreciation of not only how to present the Body of Christ for the nourishment of his holy people, but with a deep consciousness of who this priestly people is and with a clear focus on the overwhelming mystery of how Christ, present in the consecrated host, is held before the eyes of each communicant.

 

It means that lectors who proclaim at the conclusion of each reading that what we have heard is "The word of the Lord,"truly believe that God has used their tongues to speak his words to a people whom he has loved unto death.


It means that each person is profoundly focused not on the external bow, response, or gesture the Liturgy demands of them, but on the ways in which that liturgical action joins them to the Church and to their neighbor and, indeed, to Christ in his Paschal Sacrifice.

 

Thus, the first and most essential level of our participation in the Liturgy and in the Church is our participation in Christ's Paschal Death and rising on so intimate a level, that we become the mysteries we celebrate; we are transformed into the image of him whose Body and Blood we eat and drink.


A full participation in such a mystery means a full donation of self. A conscious participation in such a mystery means a conscious dying to my own will and a rebirth to God's will for me. An active participation in such mysteries means that I actively let go of everything I have and embrace only the obedient and active love of Christ who now lives in me. This is a great wonder that we proclaim and believe.

 

It's a wonder that Pope Paul VI understood in 1966 when he proclaimed:


The Council has taken the fundamental position that the faithful have to understand what the priest is saying and to share in the liturgy; to be not just passive spectators at Mass but souls alive; to the people of God responsive to him and forming a community gathered as one around the celebrant.

 

Look at the altar, placed now for dialogue with the assembly ... The repository has been opened up, as the people's own spoken language now becomes part of their prayer. Lips that had once been still, sealed as it were, now at last begin to move, as the whole assembly can speak its part in the dialogue with the priest ... No longer do we have the sad phenomenon of people being conversant and vocal about every human subject yet silent and apathetic in the house of God,. How sublime it is to hear during Mass the communal recitation of the Our Father!

 

Be then, fervent at the Sunday Mass; hold on to it jealously; endeavor to fill every corner of your parish church, to be part of a host of people surrounding the altar. Say to your priests: make us understand; open the book to us. And learn to sing. A Mass celebrated with the song of the people makes for the full raising up of the spirit. Saint Ambrose-one of the first bishops to introduce sacred singing into the Christian community expressed this striking thought; when I hear an entire assembly sing Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God my spirit is flooded with happiness; nothing in the world can possess such grandeur and majesty. 10 God has begun this great work in us! Imagine, he chose us! In the sacrifice of Christ Jesus his Son, may he bring it to a good conclusion.


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Monsignor Moroney's latest book, The Mass Explained, is available from Catholic Book Publishing at https://catholicbookpublishing.com/product/303