Praying with the body at Mass

 

We are, thank God, material as well as spiritual beings.  In praying alone or with others our bodily posture matters. 

The postures and gestures we adopt at Mass are not merely matters of etiquette. They are part of the Church's wisdom, teaching us to pray with our whole body, mind and soul. We stand in reverence, sit in attentive listening and kneel in adoration. Far from being rivals, body and soul are companions in worship. Our outward actions can help to shape our inner disposition and open us more fully to the grace of the Eucharist.

As we gather around the altar, we do not come as isolated individuals but as members of the Body of Christ. By praying, singing, listening, standing, sitting and kneeling together, we express visibly the communion that Christ creates among us. The gestures of the Mass are therefore not simply habits inherited from the past; they are signs of faith in the living Lord who speaks to us in his Word and gives himself to us in the Blessed Sacrament.

Heart speaks unto heart

Some things draw me to Saint John Henry Newman (1801-1890) including the following:

• He journeyed from Anglicanism into full communion with the Catholic Church.
• He served as the founding Rector of the Catholic University of Ireland in 1854, from which University College Dublin eventually emerged. I completed three degrees, there, between 1977 and 2005.
• He established the beautiful University Church on St Stephen's Green, where I was baptised on 22 December 1956.
• He anticipated many themes later developed at Vatican II, especially concerning the role of the laity, the development of doctrine and the importance of returning to the sources of the early Church.
• He was a loyal son of the Church but not blind to historical context and development of doctrine (although he accepted the doctrine of papal infallibility defined by the First Vatican Council in 1870, he questioned the timing, prudence and formulation of the doctrine).
• His deep personal friendship with Fr Ambrose St John (1814-1875) showed his extraordinary capacity for human friendship.

After the death of his friend in 1875, Newman wrote:

It is only beginning

Sunday 11 October 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Isaiah 25:6-10 Psalm 23 (22) Philippians 4:12-14 Matthew 22:1-14

(See also Luke 14:15-25)

Meditatio:

“For many are called, but few are chosen” (Matthew 22:14)

Commentary:

At first hearing, the parable of the wedding banquet can be unsettling. The king's reaction to those who reject his invitation seems harsh to modern ears. Yet we would be mistaken if we were to read this simply as a story about an angry earthly ruler. Jesus often uses vivid and challenging images to awaken us to the seriousness of God's invitation and the tragedy of refusing it. The focus of the parable is not so much divine vengeance but divine generosity.

The invitation is extraordinary. In the first reading, Isaiah gives us a vision of the Lord preparing ‘a feast of rich food and well-aged wines’ for all peoples. On that holy mountain God promises to destroy death itself and wipe away every tear. The banquet is a sign of salvation, communion and joy. In Psalm 23, the Lord, the Good Shepherd, prepares a table before us and leads us through even the darkest valley. We need not be afraid, for he is with us. The Gospel wedding feast, Isaiah's banquet and the psalmist's table all point towards the same reality: God's desire to share his own life with his people.

Respect in the House of God

In the Eucharist we share in the divine mysteries in the company of families, communities, the universal church and the choirs of heaven.  It is no small thing.  In between services we are in a very special place which our ancestors called ‘the house of God’ or in the Irish language ‘teach an phobail’ (the house ofthe people). Now, there is a huge difference, in Irish, between ‘teach tábhairne’ ( the local pub) and ‘teach an phobail’. Both venues were, traditionally, the main gathering places for people not least when someone died.  However, the sacred space that is the parish church (or cathedral or abbey church) is a place set apart for community worship and private prayer. 

Making time for thanksgiving

Receiving Holy Communion is a precious moment in our lives.  There was a time when many Catholics received Holy Communion only a few times each year, often most notably during the Easter season. Today, amongst regular Mass-goers, frequent reception is very much the norm.

The whole of the Mass is an act of thanksgiving, which is reflected in the very meaning of the word eucharistia in Greek or 'Eucharist'.  We thank the Lord for coming to us, dying for us and rising again. We thank him for coming to us in Holy Communion.  It is right and fitting to make time to give thanks in personal prayer in the moments following reception. This, also, may take the form of a mindful awareness of the Lord’s presence in us and in those around us.  In practice and notwithstanding the time of silence that may be practiced for a few moments towards the end of the Communion rite before the Communion prayer, the time to the final dismissal is typically short.  The General Instruction of the Roman Missal specifically provides for sacred silence after Communion:

When the distribution of Communion is over, if appropriate, the Priest and faithful pray quietly for some time.

Preparing for Holy Communion

 A simple prayer that I recited over many years prior to receiving Holy Communion runs as follows:

I wish my Lord to receive you, with the purity, humility and devotion with which your Most Holy Mother received you, with the spirit and fervour of the saints.

I did not know where it came from.  Recently, I discovered that the prayer dates from the 18th Century but was popularised by St Jose María Escrivá (1902-1975), priest and founder of Opus Dei, whose memorial is celebrated on 26 June.

The Eucharist: inculturation and incarnation

In the month of October we remember in prayer the work of missionaries who bring the good news to peoples far and wide.  Usually we think of priests and religious travelling to far away countries to share the Gospel with those who have not yet heard it. We need not look far to see that we are called to mission here in this place, at this time and in the ordinary works of life.  A saint little known in this part of Europe is St Innocent of Alaska (1797-1879) who travelled vast distances across Alaska and Siberia, learned indigenous languages, translated texts, and established local churches. St Innocent brought the Divine Liturgy to the remote corners of a vast expanse of territory.   He carried the Gospel to people who had never heard it and worked so they could worship God in their own language.

He learned Aleut and other local languages and sought to communicate the Gospel through local cultures rather than simply transplanting Russian customs. This missionary approach reflects the mystery of the Incarnation: God speaks our language in Christ and gives himself in tangible, material signs.