What would a scientist find?

The mechanics of the transformation that occurs at every Mass have been the subject of controversy since at least the Reformation in the sixteenth century. Although Eastern Orthodox and Western Catholic Christians use different terms and theological language to explain the change that takes place, it seems clear to me from what I have read, seen and heard that they share the same essential conviction: the bread and wine taken, blessed and offered in the Eucharist become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. What was once ordinary food is no longer ordinary food. The belief that Christ is truly present in the Eucharist and that a real transformation takes place is consistent with what Christians believed, taught and practised from apostolic times onwards.

At the time of the Reformation, this ancient consensus was fractured, even though the original disputes arose largely in other areas of doctrine, particularly the nature of salvation, the role of Scripture and the authority of the Pope.

Is Mass boring?

St Thomas Aquinas taught that, in heaven, we will never exhaust the mystery and beauty of God [Summa Theologiae q12 a6]. That is a delightful thought. We may think of heaven, therefore, is not a static existence but an eternal participation in the inexhaustible richness of divine truth and love.

In the Eucharist we receive a foretaste of heaven as we join the heavenly assembly.  Could anything be more true, beautiful and better than the Mass on this side of eternity?

Not only is life always (for me, at least) interesting and exciting, if sometimes challenging and painful, but we can also look forward in Christian hope to an eternity of ever-deeper wonder, joy, and communion with God. As St Paul writes:

What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him (1 Corinthians 2:9).

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.

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. 

Why special vestments?

 

Question: Why do priests wear vestments at Mass?
Answer:  For persons not familiar with Catholic ritual and practice the sight of priests or ministers wearing colourful robes and vestments may seem puzzling, if not quaint.  What has any of this to do with what is going on, one may ask?  The wearing of vestments is symbolic – it represents and signifies something sacred and set apart.  The priest acts ‘in the person of Christ’ (‘in persona Christi’) and not only leads the prayers but becomes a sacramental sign of Christ in the mystery of his death and resurrection.  The focus is not on the priest so much as on Christ who offered himself once for all on Calvary. In the Eucharist the fruits and graces of that one sacrifice are made present and applied to us.
Each liturgical season is associated with different colours so that, for example, in Ordinary Time (from Pentecost to Advent as well as immediately before Lent) the vestments as well as the altar cover and frontal as well as  the hanging lectern cloth are usually green.  During Advent and Lent, purple is used while red is used on feast days of the apostles, martyrs or at Pentecost. White is used on the great feasts of the Lord, on Marian feasts and on many solemnities and saints' days.

The wounds of the church and the eucharistic mystery

In the upheaval surrounding the trauma suffered by victims of sexual, psychological and physical abuse over recent decades, very many people directly or indirectly affected have turned their backs on the Roman Catholic Church. Although the reasons for abandoning the Church and its sacraments are many and complex, the prevalence not only of abuse but also of the woefully inadequate - and at times mendacious - response of senior prelates has been a major factor in accelerating the decline in religious observance.

I know people who have been deeply traumatised and for whom the very sight of a religious habit or symbol evokes anger, fear and revulsion. Catholics do well not to underestimate this reality. It is true that media coverage has not always been fair and that the impressions left on the wider population are sometimes misleading. Nevertheless, the suffering of victims and the failures of Church leadership have left deep wounds.

Amid this maelstrom of grief, anger and disillusionment, some have asked: "How can a Mass celebrated by an evil priest ever be valid?" Or, "How can defiled hands consecrate the Body of Christ?"

Obligation or privilege?

Question: is it a mortal sin to miss Mass on a Sunday?

Answer: This, I suggest, is the wrong starting point.  The first question should be: How could a Christian possibly miss the celebration of the Lord’s death and resurrection on the Lord’s own day?  And, how could anyone, knowingly and intentionally, miss such a wonderful opportunity to unite one’s sufferings and joys with those of Christ and to do so in communion with other believers in a parish or specific geographical community?  Legally speaking, attendance at Mass is a strict requirement for Roman Catholics on Sundays and Holy Days (the latter as appointed by the local Church authorities).  It is written into Canon Law and is seen as part of the fulfilment of the Third Commandment to keep the Sabbath holy. There is no disputing that.

I recall being taught that there was a gradation of seriousness in missing parts of Mass, and that arriving after a certain point in the liturgy could mean that one had not fulfilled the Sunday obligation. My recollection was that the Gospel marked an important dividing line, though the actual moral theology was probably more nuanced than a simple venial-versus-mortal distinction. There were, also, the question of knowledge and consent. So, for example, a farm worker might have been delayed due to the lambing season or a family member suddenly got sick and had to be attended.

Just by way of reality check and based on my own personal calculations, a parish in Ireland today would count its good fortunes to get a turnout of more than 20% among nominally Catholic parishioners or 5% among those between the ages of 12 and 40. And, frankly, I would not vouch for the *orthopraxis* (as distinct from orthodoxy) of many of those who do attend.

As Catholics we need to grow up more and take responsibility for the wonderful faith in, and gift of, this sacrament. And, if the homily is less than inspiring and if the presence of others whose lives might appear to be less than exemplary we have yet another occasion to make our daily offering of suffering [thankfully the homilies are inspiring in my parish!].  After all the Church could be seen as a Refugium Peccatorum – a refuge of sinners (applied often to Our Lady who was of course without sin) - and there is always room for one more – me!

*orthopraxis* - denotes right practice (living according to those beliefs)

A thirty day challenge

Question: So, what do you say when you are in the Real Presence and focussed on adoration?

Answer: Nothing in particular.

A saint once said, “God looks at me and I look at God.” That is often enough.

If the Holy Spirit moves me to think, speak, or pray about something, then I follow that prompting. If I am lost for words, I simply remain there - quiet, attentive and receptive.

If I feel bored and find myself watching the clock, then that too becomes something I can offer to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament: “Here I am, Lord - bored and dry.”

If I begin to wonder what I am doing there, or whether I truly believe in the Real Presence, I pray the words of the Gospel: “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.”

What difference does it make?

Question: Does believing in the ‘Real Presence’ make any difference?

Answer: I believe that it does. It determines how we approach the great sacrament of the Eucharist, how significant participation is and what is at stake when we receive the sacrament in holy communion.  It also matters, I believe, because the bread and wine that become the body and blood of Christ transforms our worldly way of seeing things and living.  We cannot, simply, walk away and continue living as we did before. We have met the Risen Christ in an altogether special and unique way that demands a complete surrender of our wills and conversion of life. This is why it is a good and wholesome thing to receive as often as we can provided that we are properly disposed.

How do you know?

There follows a brief personalised Question and Answer blog series about the Eucharist. Today I consider the following question:

Question: How do you know that the bread and wine after the consecration are not 'substantially' bread and wine but the Body and Blood of Jesus?

Answer: I ‘know’ this because I am convinced that this is the consistent teaching of the catholic church since the earliest times and is consistent with the scriptures. 

Strictly speaking, I do not ‘know’ this in the same way that I know that 2+2=4 or that Australia exists as a place.  I ‘know’ it based on trust, understanding and – above all – gift.  At baptism, confession, communion and confirmation we are, each of us, given particular gifts compatible with our age, development and experience.  Like when I switch on a computer in the morning I do not understand the internal workings, codes and complicated interactions that occur. I trust that the machine will boot up and give me a view of windows and whatever programme or application I run.