Lenten Homily Series on the Mass: Week One
Fr. David Ruchinski
I’m not sure how many of you might have been Catholic long enough to remember when the Mass was celebrated entirely in Latin. I’m not actually old enough to remember the traditional Latin Mass, but here at St. Augustine’s we hold onto a little bit of that tradition by singing some of the Mass responses in Latin during Advent and Lent each year. I think the use of Latin in the liturgy is a beautiful and venerable tradition. It signifies our unity with Catholics all around the world and across the centuries.
I’m reminded of a picture I saw once of Medal of Honor recipient, Capt. Emil Kapaun, celebrating Mass for the troops during the Korean War on the hood of an army jeep in the middle of a field. That Mass was celebrated in Latin, but it had nothing to do with the pomp and circumstance of European cathedrals. It was the Mass those soldiers grew up with, the same Mass their families would have heard celebrated at home. I’m sure that kind of solidarity was comforting to soldiers on the field of battle so far away from home.
But starting in the late 1800’s and into the early part of the 20th century a movement started in the Church to look at how the Mass was being celebrated and what was being communicated to the lay faithful who “heard” or “attended” Mass but didn’t really participate in it. Some ideas were tried out, but the big changes came with the publication of a document called a dogmatic constitution on the liturgy in 1963. That document, commonly referred to as Sacrosanctum Concilium, from the first two Latin words of the constitution itself, was the first approved document of the Second Vatican Council.
Now, most people will tell you that the most significant outcome of the publication of Sacrosanctum Concilium is that it changed the language of the Mass from Latin to English. This is not true.
The official language of the Mass, even in the new form promulgated by the Second Vatican Council, is still Latin. That’s why, a few years back when they updated the English translation that we use at Mass, there was no “taking away of the Mass that we’ve known for 40 years.” The Latin text is still the same; only the translation was revised.
No, the most important change to the liturgy brought about by Vatican II was its insistence that the “full and active participation by all the people is the aim to be considered before all else in the reform and promotion of the liturgy. For it is the primary and indispensable source from which the faithful are to derive the true Christian spirit and therefore pastors must zealously strive in all their pastoral work to achieve such participation by means of the necessary instruction.”
This responsibility, which I bear as your pastor, is the reason why I am starting tonight and will continue throughout the Sundays of Lent until Palm Sunday, a series of homilies on the form, structure, and meaning of the Mass and the things we say and do in it. I hope that through what the Church calls “necessary instruction” you might grow this Lent in a deeper understanding and appreciation of the Mass as it has been given to us since the Second Vatican Council.
Now since I’ve already talked a lot, I’m going to keep the rest of my homily very brief, and focus just on the first part of the Mass that we call the introductory rites.
As everyone here knows, we start the Mass as we start just about every prayer we do as Catholics, “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” As I priest I can tell you that if you want to get a room full of Catholics to quiet down so you can begin a meeting or a meal or something, all you have to do is loudly start out the sign of the cross.
But the sign of the cross is more than just an attention getter for the beginning of Mass. It is actually a reminder that the Mass is, in its entirety, one long prayer. From the sign of the cross to the final blessing in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, the whole Mass is one giant prayer offered by Jesus, to the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit. That’s why so many parts of the Mass use this same formula over and over again. I urge you to listen for and pay attention to how many times it comes up in the Mass tonight.
But here’s the bigger picture on this.
The Mass isn’t just something the priest does — it’s what Jesus does with and through the priest. It’s also what you do because you are also part of the mystical body of Christ. This is why the fathers of the Second Vatican Council earnestly desired “that all the faithful be led to that full, conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations called for by the very nature of the liturgy” and why they called this participation by the Christian people “their right and duty by reason of their baptism.”
When I pause or finish my parts in the Mass and look to you for a response, I’m not just trying to catch my breath or check to make sure you’re still awake. I’m giving you the chance to say or do what is proper to your role in celebrating the Mass. If the priest ever gets irked or tells you he can’t hear you and that you should speak up with your responses, it’s because your responses matter. They are part of the prayer of Jesus to the Father. Taking the time to learn those responses — if you don’t already know them — would be a really good Lenten practice, and that includes the ones we chant in Latin during the liturgy of the Eucharist.
Next week I’m going to talk more about the first main part of the Mass, what we call the liturgy of the word, and I’m going to invite you to come better prepared each Sunday to hear and internalize the Word of God. But for this week, I’d just like to you meditate more on the reality that when you “fully, actively and consciously participate” in the Mass — in whatever language and whatever location you celebrate it — you are living out your baptismal calling to be another Christ in the world.
