Catholic Massterclass: All About Holy Mass

Big news, everyone: I think this will be our final Catholic Massterclass! I never thought it would last this long, and yet I think it could go even longer. Holy Mass is so rich! We’re going out with a mystery, which is fitting for our mysterious worship. Today we’re talking about Eucharistic miracles. A Eucharistic miracle is an extraordinary event in which God makes visible what is normally hidden. At every Mass, a true miracle takes place: bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ, though this change is invisible. In Eucharistic miracles, that same reality becomes visible in a way that we can perceive. In that sense, they are something like a “double miracle.” I have three miracles that I’d like to briefly share with you.   First is the Eucharistic Miracle of Lanciano, the earliest recorded Eucharistic miracle. It took place in Italy around the year 700. A priest who was experiencing doubts about the Real Presence saw the appearance of the bread and wine change at the words of consecration. The Host became visible flesh, and the wine became visible blood. These miraculous species have been preserved for over 1,300 years. Scientific studies in the 1970s found that the flesh is human heart tissue and the blood is real human blood, type AB.   Next is the Eucharistic Miracle of Bolsena. Once again, a priest wrestling with doubt witnessed the Host begin to bleed during Mass. The blood stained the corporal, which is still preserved today in Orvieto, Italy.   Finally, we turn to the Eucharistic Miracle of Buenos Aires. A discarded Host was found and placed in water so that it would dissolve. Instead, it became a bloody substance. Scientific analysis later revealed that it was human heart tissue with AB blood type. Even more striking, white blood cells were present, indicating that the tissue was living at the time of examination. The scientist who analyzed the sample was not told its origin.   There are many more examples of Eucharstic miracles from history, some of them seem unbelievable - I suppose they all seem unbelievable, which is part of what makes it a miracle - but they all point to the reality of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, which comes to us at Holy Mass. You could read more about them by going to this website, designed by St. Carlo Acutis when he was just a teenager: https://www.miracolieucaristici.org/ May the Lord grant us all a greater love for the Mass and for the Holy Eucharist!

This week we’re going to talk about deacons. Although we don’t have any deacons in our parishes, you may attend Mass where a deacon is assisting the priest or bishop. It’s worthwhile to know what that role is all about.   We have to go back to the Old Testament. In the Temple of Jerusalem, God established a clear distinction among His people. Only the priests—descendants of Aaron—could offer sacrifice. Yet they did not act alone. The Levites, drawn from the same tribe but not ordained as priests, were entrusted with assisting in the worship of God. They prepared what was needed, cared for the sacred spaces, and supported the priests in carrying out the liturgy with reverence and order.   There is a similar pattern in the Mass. In the New Covenant, the bishop and priest act in the person of Christ the High Priest, offering the one sacrifice of Christ made present on the altar. Alongside them stands the deacon, ordained not to the priesthood, but to service. The role of the deacon closely resembles that of the Levites. At Mass, the deacon proclaims the Gospel, may preach, prepares the altar, assists the priest during the Eucharistic Prayer, and helps distribute Holy Communion. He does not consecrate the Eucharist, just as the Levites did not offer sacrifice, but his role assists the beauty, order, and integrity of the liturgy.   Alongside his assistance in the liturgy, deacons also add something to the life of the Church. While the Levites were primarily focused on the Temple, the deacon is sent beyond the walls of the church. From the earliest days of the Church, deacons were entrusted with caring for the poor, the neglected, and those in need. Their ministry reminds us that the sacrifice we participate in at the altar must be lived out in love and service in the world. In this way, the deacon becomes a bridge—connecting the worship of God with the needs of His people.   This structure teaches us something important: not everyone has the same role, and that is by God’s design. The beauty of the Mass is not found in everyone doing everything, but in each person fulfilling the role entrusted to them. The priest offers the sacrifice. The deacon assists and serves. The faithful unite themselves to Christ’s offering. Together, this ordered harmony reflects the worship of heaven itself—where all is directed toward the glory of God.   Deacons wear similar, but different vestments as a priest and bishop. Their main vestment is called a dalmatic, which looks similar to a priestly chasuble, but it has sleeves. The stole they wear is diagonal from the right shoulder to the left side. The practicality of these vestments allows them to assist more freely than the flowing vestments of the priest.

Today’s Catholic Massterclass will focus on the use of bells during the Eucharistic Prayer. The GIRM provides this instruction: A little before the consecration, when appropriate, a server rings a bell as a signal to the faithful. According to local custom, the server also rings the bell as the priest shows the host and then the chalice (GIRM, no. 150).   Two simple points about this: first, it is optional, not required, to use bells just before the consecration (often interpreted as the epiclesis) and at the elevation of the Sacred Host and Chalice after the gifts are consecrated; second, the common practice when bells are used is that there is one ring at the epiclesis and three rings at each of the elevations. A smaller number of parishes also ring the bell one time immediately after the priest consumes the Body and Blood of the Lord.   The purpose of the bells comes from traditional liturgies when the Mass was offered in a language other than the vernacular (the common language of the people in any given location), mostly in Latin. The Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) was offered in Latin, of course, but also with the priest facing the same direction as everyone else (ad orientem), which made it more difficult for people to hear and see what was happening at the altar. What’s more, the priest was speaking quietly, so often the only people who could hear anything were the altar servers. The servers would ring the bells at those times which were most worth paying attention to, namely the calling forth of the Holy Spirit on the gifts, the moment when the people had a chance to adore Jesus in the Eucharist, and at the completion of the sacrifice. The ringing of the bells helped people to be drawn toward the altar when they were perhaps focusing on some other prayers or meditations. Today, even though Mass is often offered in the common language and with the priest facing the people (versus populum), the bells are still helpful because humans still tend to get distracted at inopportune times. They can help to call our minds back to the present moment to focus on the only truly important thing taking place, which is the worship of God ordained by Jesus.

Now that we’ve completed our walk through the Mass, we’ll spend a few weeks talking about some unique topics surrounding and included in the Mass. This week’s topic is focused on the practice of bowing at the mention of sacred names and during the Creed. Bowing at the mention of sacred names is something that has largely fallen out of practice, although it is still the expected gesture (i.e. the norm) to be made at the appropriate times. Here is what the GIRM has to say about it: A bow of the head is made when the three Divine Persons are named together and at the names of Jesus, of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of the Saint in whose honor Mass is being celebrated. (GIRM, no 275, a.) A bow signifies reverence and honor shown to the persons themselves or to the signs that represent them. It is a simple gesture of lowering oneself before someone greater. You may notice this if you pay close attention to the priest while at Mass - he makes a slight bow of the head when mentioning any of these sacred names. You are invited to do the same. If you have a difficult time keeping your attention fixed on the Mass, making the resolution to bow at the mention of these sacred names just might help you focus better. Another place where Catholics bow during Mass is during the recitation of the Creed: A bow of the body, that is to say a profound bow, is made in the Creed at the words Et incarnatus est (by the power of the Holy Spirit . . . and became man). (GIRM, no 275, b.) The Lord Jesus came down from Heaven to dwell among us, beginning in the womb of Mary. This is an act of unspeakable humility. He still dwells among us in the lowliness of the Holy Eucharist. Incredible. While we profess our Creed, we show particular honor at the mention of the Incarnation by the Holy Spirit. A profound bow, bending at the waist instead of the head, expresses that we are willing to lower ourselves in humility as we consider the humility of Christ.

We will finally reach the conclusion of Mass in this week’s Catholic Massterclass! What an incredible journey! Our final three actions to explore are the Prayer After Communion, the Blessing, and the Dismissal. All three are fairly brief, so we should be able to cover them all today.   After a moment of silence, the priest offers the Prayer After Communion, which is provided in the Roman Missal. The prayer includes an acknowledgment that we have received the incredible gift of the Eucharist, while asking for that gift to bear fruit in our lives as we move forth into the world. This is a very important part that will eventually lead to the dismissal: our worship and reception of the Holy Eucharist is meant to lead to greater righteousness in our lives. This prayer is an acknowledgment that we need the Lord’s help for that to happen, alongside our own participation in the work of redemption.   After that prayer, the Roman Missal states that necessary, brief announcements may be given before the final blessing. It seems worth highlighting those two words: necessary and brief. This is all still within the context of worship of God, so we don’t want to put all the focus back on ourselves when it should remain on God.   The final Blessing comes from a couple different places in Scripture. First, we see in Leviticus 9:22-23 that the priest would go and offer sacrifice, followed by a priestly blessing of the people. In Luke 24:50-51, while Jesus is ascending into Heaven, Luke tells us that Jesus blessed his disciples. The ascension is a good image of the end of Mass. The sacrifice has been completed and Jesus returns to sit at the right hand of the Father, but he first provides his High Priestly blessing. At Mass, the priest acts in the person of Christ. He has offered the sacrifice. Before he departs from the sanctuary, he offers the High Priestly blessing of Jesus. The blessing provides a sign of grace and protection for those who are going into a world where they might encounter a variety of situations both pleasant and unpleasant. With the blessing of God, his faithful people can be confident that the Lord is with them every step of the way.   Finally we come to the part of the Mass that gives the Mass its name. The current form of the Mass has four possible dismissals that the priest may use. In the older form of the Mass, which was always spoken in Latin, the priest said, “Ite, missa est,” which translates to something like, “Go, it is the dismissal.” The Mass receives its name from the word missa, which translates into a sending forth. Ultimately, our worship of God is meant to send us into the world as people transformed by what we have done and received. We shared union with God and now we bring that union into our homes, work places, friendships, families…anywhere in need of God’s loving presence. The people of God are sent on a mission to glorify the Lord by the way they live their lives. This is an incredible mission, and the people express their joy and gladness at such a command: Thanks be to God!   Holy Mass ends there. You’ll notice there is not actually prescribed a closing hymn or extra prayer in our current form of the Mass. Many parishes pray the St. Michael Prayer and/or sing a hymn, which is not a problem, but it’s worth noting that these are not officially part of Catholic Mass. We’ll have a few more sessions of our Massterclass to cover a few more topics - stay tuned!

After the distribution of Holy Communion has finished, the priest takes a moment to purify the sacred vessels, making sure to clean and consume every crumb and every drop, rinsing them with water and making sure nothing is wasted. The principle comes from John 6 after the multiplication of the loaves, John tells us that Jesus instructed the disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, that nothing may be lost” (John 6:12). Jesus has performed a different, better kind of miracle with bread for us, so we also want to make sure nothing of this miracle is lost. If the fragments of ordinary bread were treated with such care, how much more the Eucharist, which is truly the Body of Christ? As I mentioned in the last session, we believe even the smallest fragment of the Sacred Host or the smallest drop of the Precious Blood is the fullness of Christ, so we don’t want to treat the Eucharist casually or leave those crumbs behind. They deserve our highest reverence, so it is fitting for the priest to be careful during the purification.   While the priest is purifying the sacred vessels either at the altar or the credence table, the Roman Missal provides this prayer for him to pray quietly: “What has passed our lips as food, O Lord, may we possess in purity of heart, that what is given to us in time may be our healing for eternity.” The priest is praying that all who have received the gift of the Eucharist would be healed in such a way that they can abide with this living Presence of the Lord in their hearts all the way into eternal life. Just as the sacred vessels are carefully purified, the priest asks that our hearts also be purified. We always seek the Lord’s continual grace of conversion, especially as we share with him in Holy Communion.    While this is happening, and during the entire time Communion is being distributed, it’s very common for parishes to be singing a hymn with a Eucharistic theme or to be chanting the Communion Antiphon with an accompanying Psalm. The congregation is often invited to join in the singing or chanting as an expression of our communal sharing of the Eucharist. Some people may choose, however, to return to their pew for silent prayer. This silent prayer, even while singing is taking place, allows for personal reflection on the incredible mystery they are sharing in, which is true Communion with the Savior of the world. They may choose to offer prayers of thanksgiving and adoration, contemplating the mystery of Christ present within them, or they may choose to share with the Lord the deepest needs of their lives or of their loved ones. It can be a very sacred encounter for all.   I personally like to pray the Magnificat after I’ve distributed Communion and purified the vessels. The Magnificat is a beautiful prayer prayed by Mary during the Visitation (Luke 1:39-56; the Magnificat is vv 46-55). Some have suggested that this prayer is really from the baby Jesus from within the womb of Mary, expressed by Him through His Mother. As I share in a quiet moment of prayer after Holy Communion, I imagine the Lord sharing that same prayer of praise from within me, which I can then express as my own. I also like to pray the Prayer of St. Francis (which was probably not written by St. Francis, but that’s another story for another day), the one that begins, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…” From my prayer of praise, I ask the Lord to help me be his instrument of grace for the world. Others may have their own prayers they like to pray after Communion or they may simply enjoy contemplative love shared between Lord and disciple. May the Lord grant that all of us share in the fruits of Holy Communion!

This next part of Holy Mass goes beyond what words can describe. Our Lord Jesus gives Himself to us in Holy Communion. Most of this session will actually be very practical, but we first need to start with a simple reminder.   We really believe the bread and wine have been changed into the living Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus crucified and risen from the dead. We believe it is the same Jesus on the altar and offered to us in Holy Communion that lived and walked in Israel 2000 years ago, albeit in the form of bread and wine. A miracle of God’s grace has taken place even though we can’t experience the miracle with our bodily senses. Nonetheless, He is really present in the Holy Eucharist and gives Himself to you entirely as you come forward to receive Holy Communion with Him, His Body and Blood coming into union with yours. A person could spend a lifetime reflecting on this one reality. We all could spend more time reflecting on it. Many of the Saints spoke and wrote so eloquently about this sublime reality. I invite you to take some time to consider as fully as possible the gift of the Eucharist. From that consideration, we can think about how we may want to approach the altar of the Lord. Even while we speak about some practical details, it’s important to hang on to the wondrous reality at hand.   The posture of a person in receiving the Eucharist is a bit tricky. The norm established by the bishops of our country is that a person would make a profound bow prior to receiving Communion and then would receive while standing. However, people are most welcome to genuflect instead of bowing or even to receive Communion while kneeling. These are expressions of reverence that have been found in the Church throughout history. Some people experience an inner pull toward lowering themselves as a way to honor Christ. This does not make them better than anyone else, for they are only honoring Christ as they feel inspired to do. Perhaps surprisingly for us, the universal norm of the Church is to receive Holy Communion on the tongue, even though in the United States many people receive in the hand. I’d bet most of us would put it the other way around - the norm is on the hand, while it is allowed on the tongue. You are free to receive your Lord standing or kneeling, on your tongue or in your hand, provided you are seeking to show the greatest honor to Jesus. One little note, if you choose to receive Communion in the hand, please check for crumbs, for the smallest fragment of the Sacred Host still contains the whole Christ.   Similarly, it may surprise you that the general practice around the world is that people would only receive the Eucharist in the form of bread. The Precious Blood of Christ is not offered at Communion around the world. The Eucharist is the living Presence of Christ, which means that His Body and Blood are always together (you can’t have a living person with their body and blood separated). One Sacred Host contains the fullness of Christ. To be sure, offering the Precious Blood of Christ at Communion is allowed and is offered in many parishes in the United States. Some priests prefer to avoid the use of Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion if at all possible, for they are meant to be extraordinary and not an ordinary part of the Mass.

After singing the Lamb of God and executing the accompanying actions and prayers, everyone kneels down again while the priest genuflects. The priest holds up the Eucharistic host and says, “Behold the Lamb of God; behold Him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb,” and everyone responds, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” Let’s break this down a little bit.   As we’ve discussed before, kneeling and genuflecting are common postures people take when recognizing the awesome presence of Jesus. Here, the Blessed Sacrament is about to be lifted up for all to recognize, so we lower ourselves before Him. Then the Church has the priest recite lines that point to two passages from the Bible. We discussed before that John 1:29 has John the Baptist announcing Jesus’ identity: “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” A similar announcement is here, made with the eyes of faith in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Revelation 19:6-9 is the other passage here. There is an image and a shout of praise from the great heavenly marriage banquet where the marriage of the Lamb to his Bride the Church is celebrated. In Holy Communion, the Church is declaring that we are already participating in the heavenly banquet each and every time we come to Mass, where Jesus gives Himself to his Bride in sacrifice and Communion. Beautiful!   The response to this joyous declaration comes from Matthew 8:5-13, the story of the centurion who sought healing from Jesus for his servant. Jesus responds by saying he will come and heal the servant. The centurion, careful to avoid making it seem like he is commanding Jesus to come, says, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only say the word, and my servant will be healed.” Jesus then responds by saying he has not found such marvelous faith in all of Israel and so heals the servant just by his word. He then mysteriously draws upon an image of what the Jewish people know as the Messianic Banquet - a reference found in Isaiah 25 - where people will come from all over the world to sit at table in the kingdom of heaven. Combined with the image of the heavenly marriage banquet found in Revelation 19, this sounds like what we’re doing at Mass! Incredible!   Sometimes people ask what the “word” is that Jesus must say. It is the effective Word of Christ — the same Word that heals, forgives, consecrates, and brings about what it declares. Just as He said to the centurion, “Go; be it done for you as you have believed,” so He heals us according to our faith and trust in Him.   The priest then prays quietly, “May the Body of Christ keep me safe for eternal life,” and receives the Host. He then prays, “May the Blood of Christ keep me safe for eternal life,” and consumes the Precious Blood. Only after he has received does he distribute Holy Communion to the faithful. Afterward, the Church provides a Communion Antiphon — usually a verse from Scripture connected to the Mass of the day — which may be chanted with a Psalm, recited, or accompanied by a hymn. Its purpose is to keep our focus on the mystery we are receiving. We might talk more about our selection of songs later on.  We’ll talk more about your reception of Holy Communion next week.

For this week’s Catholic Massterclass, we’re not going to move forward just yet. Instead, I want to focus on something that most people don’t notice during this part of the Mass. Even though it often goes unnoticed, it is a critical moment — not only for the priest, but for each member of the congregation. I hope it opens your eyes in a new way to your preparation for receiving Holy Communion.   Last week I spoke about the Lamb of God, the Fraction Rite, and the commingling of the Eucharistic Host and the Precious Blood of Christ. There is another part of that portion of the Mass that is easy to miss. While the Lamb of God is being sung, after the priest has commingled the Eucharistic species, he bows slightly and prays quietly until the Lamb of God has finished, or even a little after. What is he praying during that time? Is it worthwhile to know those prayers — and perhaps even to pray them yourself?   The Order of Mass in the Roman Missal provides two options for the priest:  (1) Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, who, by the will of the Father and the work of the Holy Spirit, through your Death gave life to the world, free me by this, your most holy Body and Blood, from all my sins and from every evil; keep me always faithful to your commandments, and never let me be parted from you.   or (2) May the receiving of your Body and Blood, Lord Jesus Christ, not bring me to judgment and condemnation, but through your loving mercy be for me protection in mind and body and a healing remedy. Up to this point in the Mass — and in what follows — the priest prays aloud on behalf of the people, standing in the Person of Christ. In this quiet moment, however, he prays personally. He bows before the Lord he is about to receive and recalls that he too is a man in need of mercy and protection. Scripture and Sacred Tradition remind us that religious leaders will be held to a higher standard, which makes these prayers especially important for the priest. He takes refuge in the power of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus, asking for fidelity, protection, and perseverance. Jesus says in the Gospel of John, “If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love” (Jn 15:10). The priest is asking for the grace to be faithful to the Lord’s commandments and, therefore, always remain with him.   There is another part to these prayers, however, that often goes unspoken. St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself” (1 Corinthians 11:27-29). Receiving the Body and Blood of Christ is not casual. In this New Covenant sacrificial meal, we declare our allegiance to Christ. If we knowingly cling to grave sin, we contradict that allegiance. That is why St. Paul urges self-examination. The priest pauses here to examine his conscience and to beg the Lord’s mercy before approaching Holy Communion.   This seriousness, however, should not frighten us — it should steady us. The Eucharist is given as a remedy and a source of life. We simply must approach it honestly and reverently.

The next part of Holy Mass combines three different actions into one movement: the Fraction Rite, the Lamb of God (Agnus Dei), and the commingling of the Body and Blood of the Lord. Each of them reveals something distinct about what is taking place on the altar, but together they show one single mystery. Let’s take a closer look.   While the Lamb of God is sung or recited, the priest picks up the Eucharistic host and breaks it. From one portion he breaks a small fragment and places it into the chalice, praying quietly, “May this mingling of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ bring eternal life to us who receive it.” All of this happens fairly quickly. (Yet another reason for the Sign of Peace to be sober and offered only to those nearest you — if we are busy chatting, we may miss one of the most revealing moments of the Mass.)   In Luke 24, the risen Jesus appears to two disciples on the Road to Emmaus. At table with them He took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them — and their eyes were opened. It was in “the breaking of the bread” that they recognized Him. The Church deliberately repeats this action at every Mass. The breaking is not practical preparation; it is proclamation. A living body is not divided — a sacrificed one is. The fraction shows sacramentally what the consecration has made present: the sacrifice of Christ. From the earliest days of Christianity, the Eucharistic worship was even called “the Breaking of the Bread.” We recognize Christ precisely at the moment His sacrifice is shown to us.   As the Host is broken, we sing: Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us…grant us peace. Throughout the Old Testament, lambs played a central role in worship. The Passover lamb protected Israel from death and had to be eaten. The sacrifices offered in the Temple brought a kind of reconciliation with God, especially on the Day of Atonement. When John the Baptist called Jesus the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, he revealed that all those sacrifices pointed to Him. So while the priest performs the action of sacrifice, the congregation speaks its meaning. We are not watching a ritual; we are witnessing the sacrifice of Christ. Notice the pattern of the prayer: We ask for mercy; we ask again for mercy; finally we ask for peace. Peace is not a substitute for mercy — it is the result of mercy. Before receiving the Lamb who judges the living and the dead, we persistently beg forgiveness, and only afterward do we ask for the peace that comes from reconciliation with God.   After breaking the Host, the priest places a fragment into the chalice. In death, Christ’s Body and Blood were separated. In the Resurrection, they are united forever. The commingling does not make Christ alive — He is always the living Lord in the Eucharist — but it shows sacramentally that the sacrifice made present on the altar is the sacrifice of the risen Christ. The One offered to the Father is not dead, but living. The priest prays quietly that this mingling bring eternal life to those who receive it. The Eucharist is life-giving, but it must be received properly. This prepares us for the next moment of Mass when we will acknowledge our unworthiness before Communion. So in just a few moments the Church shows us a very large window into the mystery of Jesus: He is sacrificed (the breaking); He is identified (the Lamb of God); He lives forever (the mingling).

Following the Lord’s Prayer during Mass comes the Sign of Peace or the Rite of Peace. There are two places where instructions are given in the Roman Missal, once right in the Order of Mass and, before that, in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, paragraph 82. It’s probably better to start with the paragraph from the GIRM.   Paragraph 82 mentions three things about the Sign of Peace: first, it is to be understood as a preparation for Holy Communion, a time for the faithful people in the pews to express to each other that we share an ecclesial communion (we are united - hopefully we are united - in our love for the Church and Her doctrine) and mutual charity toward one another; second, that the sign of peace to be given is established by the local conference of bishops and by local customs and cultures (in other words, what does the Sign of Peace actually look like in real time?); third, that the sign of peace is to be given in a sober manner and only to those nearest to each person. These are all very interesting points that could be expanded upon for pages, especially the third point, but we will leave it as a simple explanation for what we’re looking for at this point in Holy Mass. Before we get to that explanation, let’s take a look at the Order of Mass.   When you pay close attention to the priest during this part of Mass, you’ll notice that he is no longer speaking to the Father, as he does almost the entire Mass, but to Jesus the Son. “Lord Jesus Christ, you said to your apostles…” Some priests signify this shift in the Divine Subject by looking directly at the Eucharist, the living Body and Blood of the Lord. The priest acknowledges that it is Jesus who gives us His peace, which is supreme over any other type of peace that can be found. His peace is supernatural, while any other peace is merely natural. It’s this supernatural peace that we’re seeking. Jesus gave that peace in a number of places, but the specific reference here comes from John 14:27, which comes at the Last Supper. We can see that Jesus gave us the supreme gift of the Eucharist at the Last Supper, but he also gave us His peace, which is also an extraordinary gift to receive! When the priest has finished his prayer to Jesus, notice what he says to the congregation: “May the peace of the Lord be with you always.” Father is not offering you his natural peace, but the supernatural peace of Christ. And when he instructs those present to offer each other the sign of peace, it is the peace of Christ that we are supposed to be offering to those around us. Maybe this can help us see why it ought to be a sober moment rather than a chaotic one. Maybe this can also help us to see why this moment is not one for us to catch up with each other or comment to each other about the homily, but instead to focus exclusively on desiring the peace that surpasses all understanding to rest upon each person’s heart and mind. What a profound desire to share with each other!   The reason for offering the Sign of Peace during Mass comes from the Bible and history. Jesus gives instructions to his disciples during the Sermon on the Mount that we are to make peace with our brethren, to reconcile with them if possible, before offering our sacrifice on the altar. The Sign of Peace can act as a sign (or could be an acknowledgement) of such reconciliation. St. Paul also instructs the Christians in both Corinth and Rome to give each other a holy kiss of peace (Romans 16:16, 1 Cor 16:20). Historically speaking, we can look back to our old friend St. Justin Martyr, who wrote about the worship of 2nd century Christians while he was living in that time. He mentioned that the people would greet one another with a kiss [of peace]. Over time, the Sign of Peace has been “located” in different times of the Mass and has had different appearances, but it has always been included at least as an option. Even today, it’s not a strict requirement to include the large-scale sign of peace, but the priest at least has to offer the peace of Christ to the congregation with the proper response.

There is much more that could be said about the Eucharistic Prayers in the Roman Missal and in general, but we’ll move on to the next part of Holy Mass, which is the Lord’s Prayer. There are a few interesting points to make about the Lord’s Prayer and the surrounding text, including a surprise statement that many believe to have Protestant origins but really comes from the prayers of the early Church.   The introduction to the Lord’s Prayer during Mass states: “At the Savior’s command and formed by divine teaching, we dare to say…” The Lord’s Prayer (often called the Our Father) is the only prayer specifically commanded by Jesus in the Gospels. It is found in two places: Matthew 6:9-13 and Luke 11:1-4. In Luke’s version, Jesus finished praying and his disciples requested that he teach them how to pray. He then instructed them to pray this prayer, which is why we call it the “Lord’s Prayer” and why we place such an emphasis on praying it daily. In the early Church, it was an expectation that each Christian would pray the Lord’s Prayer on a daily basis. Then in Mass we run into the strange line, “...we dare to say…” What does that mean? Why do we dare to say the Lord’s Prayer if Jesus instructed us to pray it? Again, the early Church Fathers repeatedly called it a daring and bold prayer, acknowledging that it is a prayer of sonship. We are only children of God because of our baptism, but that acknowledgement also implies that we are on a level of relationship to God that Jesus is on. We are acknowledging that baptism causes us to participate so fully in the life of Christ that we share in his divine nature. I don’t know what you think about that, but I certainly see that it is a bold statement! We are unworthy sinners and yet Jesus causes us to be raised to his level of relationship with God. Incredible!   Of course, the heart of this part of Mass is the Lord’s Prayer itself. We could speak for hours about each line of the Prayer, but I will give here just a brief note that there are seven petitions in the Lord’s Prayer. The first three are focused solely on God being glorified and the final four are focused on our need for God’s grace. This is a good preparation for Holy Communion: acknowledge God’s supreme goodness, desire that all would know Him as He ought to be known, and then ask Him for what only He can provide.   The final part of the prayer includes a brief prayer called the Embolism (a little stoppage in the communal prayer for the prayer of the priest) followed by the famous doxology that many people associate with the Protestant community because they insert it at the end of the Lord’s Prayer each time they pray it (while Catholics only say it during Mass). This is longer than we have space for, but there is a document called the Didache, which included the teaching of the Apostles from the earliest days of the Church. In the Didache is found an instruction to insert the line, “For to you is the power and the glory forever.” It became so familiar to the Christian community that most copyists of the Gospels wrote it into the Gospel. When the Scriptures began to be translated into other languages, especially into the King James Version, they assumed the line had always been in the Gospels. Interestingly enough, the Protestants who love the Bible have a line in their biblical prayer that comes from Catholic Tradition.

The final of the primary Eucharistic Prayers, Eucharistic Prayer IV (EPIV) is easily the least used of them all. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if none of you had ever been at a Mass when EPIV was used. It’s a little strange to me why it isn’t used often, but it could be that it sounds a little different from the others and is a bit on the longer end of the spectrum. Here are some unique features of it:   Eucharistic Prayer IV has its own Preface, which must be used whenever EPIV is used. The reason for this is that the Preface and the first half of the Prayer give a beautiful summary of Salvation History, so any other Preface wouldn’t quite fit with the Prayer. Because of this, Eucharistic Prayer IV cannot be used on days with a proper Preface, which includes many Sundays and most solemnities. This teaches us that the Eucharistic Prayer is not a collection of interchangeable parts, but a unified act of worship with its own internal logic.    The Preface praises God who has always existed before all ages and has dwelt in unapproachable light. The angels surround his heavenly throne gazing upon the glory of his face day and night. From that reality, he created everything in wisdom and in love, culminating in the creation of man and woman in his own image. We lost his friendship through disobedience, but he came to our aid by way of covenants and the teaching of the prophets. Finally, he “so loved the world that in the fullness of time,” he sent his Only Begotten Son to be our Savior. He proclaimed the good news of salvation, gave himself up to death, and rose from the dead, destroying Death itself and restoring life to our fallen race. Finally, he sent the Holy Spirit bringing his work to perfection in the world so he might sanctify creation to the full. All of that is found in the first half of Eucharistic Prayer IV - so lovely!   You can tell from that summary and from looking at the full Prayer that EPIV is very Trinitarian in its composition and contains several references to the Gospel of John. There are several lines that could be found in that Gospel, which also sounds different from the other three Gospels. There is a more poetic sound and feel to this Eucharistic Prayer, while at the same time clearly maintaining the reality of the sacrificial nature of the Mass.   Just like Eucharistic Prayers II and III, Eucharistic Prayer IV has its origins in the worship of the early Church. If you look up “Anaphora of St. Basil” (Anaphora means Eucharistic Prayer) online, you’ll find that it is remarkably similar to Eucharistic Prayer IV. The Anaphora of St. Basil has its origins in the 4th century in Alexandria in Egypt. Some people argue that it is one of the earliest Eucharistic Prayers we have in writing. Drawing heavily from the Anaphora of St. Basil, the Church composed Eucharistic Prayer IV in the 20th century, preserving its theological structure and spirit. It has influenced the Greek Eucharistic Prayers of St. John Chrysostom and St. James, and still influences some of our Eastern Catholic brethren of the different Catholic rites, as well as some who are no longer in full communion with Rome.   There we have it. One Eucharistic Prayer (The Roman Canon) that is very closely tied to the Eucharistic Prayer of the Traditional Latin Mass and three Eucharistic Prayers that are very closely tied to Eucharistic Prayers from the early Church. What a gift!

For many priests and laypeople alike, Eucharistic Prayer III settles as a nice middle ground between the Roman Canon and Eucharistic Prayer II. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM) suggests that Eucharistic Prayer III is most appropriately used on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation and many priests follow that suggestion. Here are some unique features of this Eucharistic Prayer:   The very first paragraph after the Sanctus states that the Lord “never cease[s] to gather a people to yourself, so that from the rising of the sun to its setting a pure sacrifice may be offered to your name.” The acknowledgement that it is the Lord’s initiative to gather people to himself is an important one. No matter how persuasive you or I may be, it is the Lord who must act if a person is going to be drawn to him. Jesus says, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him” (John 6:44). What’s the purpose of being drawn to the Lord? People of all nations are gathered to God for the purpose of offering a pure sacrifice to his name. This is a direct connection to a passage from the Book of Malachi in the Old Testament. As the Lord scolds the Temple priests, he says, “For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name is great among the nations, and in every place incense is offered to my name, and a pure offering; for my name is great among the nations, says the Lord of hosts” (Malachi 1:11). This is significant: the Lord is prophesying that a day will come when people from “the nations” will offer sacrifice to his name. It’s not just any sacrifice, but the minchah sacrifice, which was a grain offering. Normally the sacrifices could only be offered in the Temple, but here the Lord is suggesting that the sacrifices will be offered around the world. It sure sounds like the Mass, an offering of the Bread of Life around the world, is the fulfillment of this passage!   As you can tell, Eucharistic Prayer III heavily emphasizes the sacrificial nature of the Mass. There are several instances of mentioning the nature of our worship with several mentions of the sacrifice or the One being offered as we participate in the Sacrifice of Jesus at Calvary for the forgiveness of sins.   One more point about the Prayer itself: EPIII is the only Eucharistic Prayer that allows the priest to insert the specific name of the Saint of the day or the Patron Saint of the place where Mass is being offered. EPI includes those two lists of saints and EPs II and IV have the basic listing of Mary, Joseph, the Apostles, and all the Saints, but EPIII adds the general category of Martyrs and offers as an option the particular Saint of the day or place. Unfortunately, some priests like to insert the specific Saint of the day into EPII, but they should not do so. That is part of what makes EPIII unique.   Eucharistic Prayer III is uniquely crafted from a combination of historical Eucharistic Prayers from history. The beautiful prayers were taken from a wide range of ancient Eucharistic Prayers: Mozarabic Liturgy, Anaphora of Theodore of Mopsuestia, Anaphora of St. Basil, Anaphora of St. Clement, and the Leonine Sacramentary. My point in bringing this up is to connect with history - these names listed here go back several centuries into the early days of the Church. Like with Eucharistic Prayer II, the Church is endorsing a return to historical worship as a way to join the Heavenly worship of the Mass.

Last week we looked at the longest Eucharistic Prayer (The Roman Canon) and this week we will look at the shortest Eucharistic Prayer (Eucharistic Prayer II). As I have mentioned the past couple of sessions of our Catholic Massterclass, there is controversy over the reality of options for the Eucharistic Prayer. Nonetheless, we have a variety and each of them has unique characteristics and often rich imagery in the prayers. Here are some unique characteristics of Eucharistic Prayer II (EPII):   The first unique feature of Eucharistic Prayer II is that it includes its own proper Preface, though it may also be used with other Prefaces from the Roman Missal. It is Trinitarian in its emphasis and has strong connections with a very early version of the Eucharistic Prayer used during Mass in the early Church.   As I mentioned, EPII is the briefest of all of the Eucharistic Prayers and appears best suited for weekday Masses, although it can also be used on Sundays and Holy Days. One of the reasons for this is the mention of the dewfall during the epiclesis: “Make holy…these gifts…by sending down your Spirit upon them like the dewfall…” This is a strong reference to the miraculous bread from Heaven that came to the people in the desert by way of the morning dew bringing the manna on the ground each morning. Those who attend Mass during the week are coming to receive their daily miraculous Bread from Heaven.    One more unique characteristic of EPII that I will mention comes toward the end of the Prayer and sounds a little awkward: “Remember also our brothers and sisters who have fallen asleep in the hope of the resurrection, and all who have died in your mercy: welcome them into the light of your face.” Where does that line come from? What does that mean? There are several references in the Old Testament, especially in the Psalms, that refer to God shining the light of His face upon those He wishes to care for and save. When we pray that the dead be welcomed into ‘the light of God’s face,’ we are asking that they be brought into God’s saving presence—what Scripture describes as seeing God face to face, which is Heaven itself. Beautiful!   A very neat fact about Eucharistic Prayer II is that the entire prayer has connections with the worship of the early Church. St. Hippolytus lived during the 3rd century - 1800 years ago - and he wrote out the prayer used during the consecration of the Holy Eucharist when people gathered for worship, and it is remarkably similar to Eucharistic Prayer II. While scholars debate details of its exact authorship and use, the Church sees in it a trustworthy witness to very early Eucharistic prayer. You could search online for “Eucharistic Prayer from St. Hippolytus” to see what I mean. Though the prayer fell out of use over time, the Church has endorsed a return to it as we worship God and seek his daily miraculous Bread from Heaven.

We’ll spend the next four weeks looking at each of the primary Eucharistic Prayers provided by the Church in the Roman Missal. The first one - Eucharistic Prayer I or the Roman Canon - is the longest and most connected to history. Many of us are aware that the look and sound of Mass was changed in the 1960s, going from Latin to the vernacular language of any given place. In the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), there was one Eucharistic Prayer that was prayed at each and every Mass. If you were to translate that one Eucharistic Prayer into English, you would end up with something very similar to Eucharistic Prayer I. It’s not an exact match, but it’s very close. Because of that, we can be confident in saying that the Roman Canon is a prayer that has been present at Mass for centuries and has provided the structure of the Eucharistic Sacrifice for countless saints, missionaries, martyrs, and faithful people of God.   There are some unique features of the Roman Canon that make it stand out compared to the other three. There are two long lists of saints included in the Roman Canon, including all of the Apostles, a few of the earliest popes, and other men and women from the early Church. Here we are reminded of those who have laid a firm foundation of faith for us and who still cheer us on as we strive to enter through the narrow door. These members of the Church Triumphant become present to us, the Church Militant, in the Heavenly worship of Holy Mass.   There are several mentions of sacrificial images, including some from the Bible. The sacrifice of Abel, whose offering of his first fruits was pleasing to God, the sacrifice of Abraham, willing to offer his only son Isaac as a sacrifice (though, of course, we know the Lord prevented him from actually carrying out the sacrifice), and the offering of bread and wine by Melchizedek provide the perfect foreshadowing of the Sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross and in the Eucharist, the firstborn and only beloved Son of the Father offered for our salvation, made present here in the form of bread and wine. The words of the Roman Canon remind us that the Eucharistic Sacrifice—Christ’s one saving sacrifice made present—is the necessary and pleasing offering through which God applies the grace that saves us from eternal damnation. The Roman Canon is not concerned with explaining the Mass to us; it is concerned with offering the sacrifice to God.   Another unique feature comes in the wording leading up to the Words of Consecration. The priest says and enacts what Jesus did at the Last Supper. Jesus “raised his eyes to Heaven” and the priest is instructed to look upward. Jesus “took this precious chalice in his holy and venerable hands” and the priest is instructed to pick up the chalice. It’s interesting it says, “this precious chalice,” reminding us that there is a mystical reality at work that we can’t see, as though the chalice the priest is using is drawn into and participates in the mystery of the very chalice used by Christ at the Last Supper.   There are more unique features to mention, but the last one I’ll mention here are the two moments when the priest pauses his prayers to silently pray for the living and the dead, reminding us all that we are there to offer the Mass for those present, but also for those who are not present at the Sacrifice. We pray that, somehow, God may receive the Sacrifice of the Mass and supply grace for those who are not yet convicted by faith to be present and for those who have passed before us and need our prayers to assist them into Heaven. So, always come to Mass with some prayer intention(s) and hold them in mind during the Eucharistic Prayer.   The Roman Canon is a beautiful Eucharistic Prayer! Unfortunately, because of all of these unique features, it is much longer than the others and the length often deters priests from using it. Many people have expectations of a brief, efficient Mass. In the case of this parish cluster, our Mass schedule is pretty tight, so time is a prized commodity. What’s more, the current pastor can’t figure out how to preach shorter homilies. 🙂 Maybe we can switch out our expectations (and maybe the pastor can learn to preach shorter homilies), so we can fully embrace and even grow to love the longer Eucharistic Prayer. Next week, we’ll look at Eucharistic Prayer II, the shortest of them all.

After the Holy, Holy, Holy (the Sanctus), the Mass enters its most sacred moment: the Eucharistic Prayer. Everything we have done so far has been leading to this prayer, and everything that follows flows from it. This is the prayer in which Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross is made present to us sacramentally. Although there are several Eucharistic Prayers, they all share the same essential structure. Understanding these common parts helps us recognize that we are participating in one great act of worship, not a series of separate prayers.   The Eucharistic Prayer is always directed to God the Father. The priest does not pray to the congregation or about God, but on behalf of the Church, to the Father, through Jesus Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit. This prayer reveals the deeply Trinitarian nature of the Mass.   The Eucharistic Prayer begins by continuing the spirit of the Preface and the Sanctus: giving thanks to God for His saving works. The word Eucharist itself means thanksgiving. Before anything is offered, the Church first acknowledges who God is and what He has done.   In every Eucharistic Prayer, the priest invokes the Holy Spirit upon the bread and wine. This is called the epiclesis. Just as the Spirit hovered over the waters at creation and overshadowed Mary at the Annunciation, the Spirit now descends to bring about God’s saving action. The transformation of the gifts is not magic—it is the work of God.   The priest then recounts the words and actions of Jesus at the Last Supper. These are not merely remembered or reenacted. When the priest speaks Christ’s words, Christ Himself acts through the priest. The bread and wine truly become the Body and Blood of Jesus, making present the one sacrifice of Calvary.   After the consecration, the Church proclaims the Mystery of Faith. In Scripture, “remembering” does not mean recalling something from the past. It means making it present. The Church now stands mystically at the Cross, the Tomb, and the Resurrection, united to Christ’s saving work.   The Church then offers to the Father: Christ Himself, the Sacrifice He has entrusted to the Church, and Herself, united to Him. We do not offer a new sacrifice, but participate in Christ’s one eternal offering. Our prayers, sufferings, and lives are drawn into His perfect gift to the Father.   The Eucharistic Prayer always includes prayers for the Church on earth, for the living and the dead, offered in union with the Saints in Heaven. This shows that the Mass is never private or individual. It is cosmic in scope, uniting heaven and earth, the living and the dead, into one act of worship.   We conclude with the Doxology: “Through Him and with Him and in Him…” All glory is given to the Father, through Christ, in the Holy Spirit. The people respond with the Great Amen, affirming and embracing everything that has just taken place. This is not a routine response—it is the people’s solemn assent to the sacrifice offered in their name.

The Holy, Holy, Holy—the Sanctus—comes directly from Sacred Scripture. In Isaiah 6, the prophet hears the seraphim crying out “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts,” and in Revelation the same hymn resounds in the worship of heaven. This is the song of heaven itself. When we sing it at Mass, we are not merely recalling a biblical moment—we are entering into heavenly worship. The liturgy lifts us beyond time and space and unites us to what is always happening before the throne of God.   Immediately after this hymn, we kneel. That posture is not accidental. In the Gospels, kneeling is one of the most common responses when people come to recognize the divinity of Jesus—whether in awe, supplication, or worship. We kneel because something infinitely greater than a symbol is about to take place. The same Jesus who is worshiped in heaven is about to become sacramentally present on the altar. Our bodies confess what our voices have just proclaimed: God is here. By the fourth century, Christians in both East and West were already singing the Holy, Holy, Holy during the Eucharistic Prayer—clear evidence that the Church from her earliest centuries understood the Mass as a participation in the worship of heaven. To call God the “Lord of hosts” is to confess that the Mass is never a private gathering. Every time we worship, we stand before the God who commands the armies of heaven—and they worship with us.

Once the gifts are prepared, the priest prays the Prayer over the Offerings. This prayer does not consecrate the gifts; rather, it formally offers them to God and asks Him to receive and sanctify what has been placed on the altar. This reflects a basic rule of biblical worship: offerings are never simply placed before God—they are named, offered, and prayed over.   In the Temple worship, the priest did not improvise a new meaning for the gifts; he asked God to accept what He Himself had commanded. The Church does the same. The Prayer over the Offerings acknowledges that what lies on the altar is about to be taken up into Christ’s one sacrifice.   Historically, such a prayer has always been part of the Mass. In the Roman tradition it was called the Oratio super oblata (“the prayer over the things offered”). While the wording and number of offertory prayers have developed over time, the act of praying over the offerings has never disappeared—because sacrifice always demands prayerful offering.   Immediately after the Prayer over the Offerings, the priest begins the Preface Dialogue: “The Lord be with you. (And with your spirit.) Lift up your hearts. (We lift them up to the Lord.) Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. (It is right and just.)” In this dialogue, we are preparing to take part in the Eucharistic sacrifice by calling upon the Lord’s presence, lifting our hearts above earthly concerns, and giving thanks to God for what He has given us. I’ve mentioned this before, but the Greek word eucharistia means “thanksgiving”. We give thanks by entering into the thanksgiving sacrifice Jesus has commanded.   Next comes the Preface, which is a solemn, public act of thanksgiving directed to God prior to entering into the Eucharistic Prayer. There are several Prefaces in the Roman Missal, some specifically for each season of the liturgical year, others for particular categories of saints, and still more for other various categories. If you listen to the words of the Preface, you’ll notice that there is a basic structure to each one. It begins with properly acknowledging that we owe our gratitude to God as an obligation of duty (“our duty and our salvation…”). Next, there is some attribute or reason given for why He is worthy of our praise and thanksgiving. Finally, we acknowledge that we are joining with all of the saints in heaven in giving thanks and adoration to Him. (More on this final stage next week.)

Every Sunday, after the General Intercessions, something quiet but deeply meaningful happens: the Offertory. Bread and wine are brought forward either by the people or by the servers, a song is sung, and the priest begins a series of prayers at the altar. As usual, there is a nice connection with Old Testament worship that has been brought up through Christian history.   In the Temple, God commanded Israel to bring their gifts forward before the sacrifice was offered (see Lev 1; Lev 2; Deut 26). The people approached with their offerings—animals, grain, bread, wine—and placed them into the hands of the priests. Worship always began with the faithful giving something that would be taken up into the sacrifice itself. The Church continues that ancient pattern. Because the Eucharist is a true sacrifice, we too have a moment of presenting gifts to God.   The essential gifts of the Offertory are bread and wine, because they will become the Body and Blood of Christ. In most parishes you’ll also see the collection brought forward, although this is not necessary. These gifts represent the sacrifice that we all bring, which include more than the bread and wine. Our labors, joys, sorrows, and even our entire lives are spiritually placed upon the altar as a sacrifice. This is mentioned by the priest, “Pray, brothers and sisters, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God our almighty Father.” The sacrifice of the priest is the bread and wine, which will become the Body and Blood of Christ, while your sacrifice is the life that you bring to worship.    In the Jerusalem Temple, the Levites sang psalms while the people brought up their gifts. The singing accompanied the action and lifted the hearts of the worshippers. The Church has always done the same. While the people sing, the priest quietly begins the Preparation of the Gifts. His prayers explain why this moment matters. “Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, for through your goodness we have received the bread we offer you, fruit of the earth and work of human hands, it will become for us the Bread of Life ... .the wine we offer you…it will become our spiritual drink.” These beautiful words come from ancient Jewish blessing prayers. They acknowledge that the bread and wine are God’s gifts to us—and now we return them so He may transform them into Christ’s Body and Blood. While he is preparing the wine, you’ve probably noticed the priest pouring a drop of water into it. “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.” The tiny drop of water represents us. The wine represents Christ. Mixed together, they become inseparable. This symbolizes our union with Jesus in His self-offering to the Father. Again, our own sacrifices are united to the sacrifice of the Eucharist.   Incense (when used) shows that our prayer rises to God and that the gifts are set apart for something holy. The washing of hands is a sign of interior purification: the priest prepares his heart to enter the Eucharistic Prayer. He quietly says, “Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sins.” This is a direct quote from Psalm 51:2, expressing a desire for interior purification before offering the sacrifice.   The Offertory is not “intermission.” It is the moment when the Church gathers everything we are and everything God has given us, and places it on the altar. Bread and wine will soon become Christ Himself. But first we offer them—and with them, we offer ourselves. In the Offertory, we do what God’s people have always done: We bring our gifts, we lift our hearts, and we ask God to make our offering holy.

After the homily each Sunday, we stand and offer the Prayers of the Faithful, sometimes called the Universal Prayer or General Intercessions. Many people wonder: Why do we do this? Is this a recent addition to the Mass?   While the form we use today was restored after the Second Vatican Council, the practice itself goes back to the earliest Christian communities. Around the year 155, St. Justin Martyr described the Sunday Eucharistic gathering and noted that after the readings and the homily, “we all rise together and offer prayers” for various needs. These prayers were offered publicly and responded to by the faithful—much like what we do now. Over the centuries this element faded from the Roman Rite, though it remained in many Eastern liturgies. Vatican II did not create something new, but restored an ancient practice so the Church today could once again benefit from it.   The restored practice has a very specific purpose: to allow the baptized to exercise their priestly role by interceding for the needs of the Church and the world. After hearing God’s Word and responding to it through the homily, the faithful stand and offer petitions that arise from the needs of the community and the entire human family. The Church intentionally places these intercessions at the hinge between the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. We have listened to God speak; now we speak to God on behalf of others. This public intercession fulfills the exhortation of St. Paul, who urged believers “to make supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings for all people” (1 Tim 2:1). It is the moment when the spiritual priesthood of the baptized becomes audible in the liturgy.   The Church does not give an official fixed list of intentions, because the needs of the world and the local community shift from week to week. However, the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM 70) gives a stable structure that guides how these intercessions should be composed. Normally, four categories are included: Prayers for the Church (For the Pope, bishops, clergy, the holiness of the faithful, vocations, and the mission of the Church.) Prayers for the world and those in authority (For peace, justice, good governance, the protection of the vulnerable, and the welfare of all peoples.) Prayers for those who suffer (For the sick, the poor, the oppressed, the grieving, those facing temptation or crisis, and all who carry heavy burdens.) Prayers for the local community (For the parish, upcoming sacraments, local needs, and anniversaries or events affecting the people gathered.)   The Prayers of the Faithful are not simply practical announcements or a moment to shift our posture. They are the Church at prayer: the Body of Christ petitioning the Father for the needs of humanity. When we respond, “Lord, hear our prayer,” we join our voices to Christ, the one true intercessor, who constantly prays for the Church.

Each Sunday, after listening to God’s Word, the Church stands and professes the Creed. It can be easy to treat this moment as routine, something said simply because it is “what Catholics do.” But in reality, the Creed is an important moment in the liturgy. It expresses who God is, what He has done, and what we believe as His people—so that we may worship Him rightly.   Throughout Scripture, God consistently teaches that true worship is founded on truth. Israel was commanded to remember who God is and what He had done for them. Their most important statement of faith, the Shema—“Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord is one” (Deut 6:4)—was recited daily. It was not a theological list, but it functioned as a proclamation of identity and fidelity: We belong to the one true God. In Christian worship, the Creed fulfills and expands this purpose. Because we have received the fullness of God’s revelation in Jesus Christ, the People of God profess not only the unity of God, but the mystery of the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Paschal Mystery, and the life of the world to come. The Creed ensures that our worship is not vague or generic, but intentionally Christian. Before we approach the altar, we publicly profess the faith of the Church so that we may offer the Eucharistic sacrifice with hearts and minds aligned to the truth.   A little background. In the earliest centuries, creeds existed primarily in the context of baptism. Before entering the Church, catechumens professed their belief in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. These baptismal formulas eventually developed into what we now call the Apostles’ Creed (this is the one recited at the beginning of the rosary). The Nicene Creed we recite on Sundays comes from two ecumenical councils—Nicaea (325) and Constantinople (381)—which the Church convened to clarify the divinity of Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Heresies had arisen that denied Christ’s full divinity, and the Church responded by handing on a clear, authoritative summary of the apostolic faith: Jesus is “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.” The Creed was not originally part of the Mass, but it gradually entered the liturgy as a safeguard of orthodoxy.   The Church continues to profess the Creed during Mass because it performs several essential functions: It unites us to the universal Church. Every Catholic around the world professes the same faith. When we speak the Creed, we stand in solidarity with believers across continents and centuries. It protects the truth of the Gospel. The Creed anchors us in the apostolic faith, guarding us from misunderstandings, errors, and the temptation to recreate God according to our own preferences. It helps to form our minds. The Creed is not only something we say—it is something that shapes us. Each profession deepens our identity as disciples of Jesus and members of His Body. It connects us to the ancient practice of declaring who God is. Just as Israel regularly proclaimed that they worshiped the LORD and no other, we too declare whom we worship—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—to the exclusion of every false god.   We profess the Creed during Mass because worship and belief are inseparable. To worship God rightly, we must know who He is. The Creed is the Church’s weekly act of remembering, proclaiming, and celebrating the truth God has revealed. Standing together, we confess our faith so that we may offer ourselves—and the Eucharistic sacrifice—with hearts firmly rooted in the one true God who saves.

One of the most familiar moments of the Mass is the homily. After the readings, everyone instinctively leans forward and waits to hear something that will encourage them, teach them, or challenge them. This instinct is ancient. We can see its roots in the Scriptures themselves. In the synagogue at Nazareth (Luke 4), Jesus stands to read from the prophet Isaiah, and then He sits down—taking the posture of a teacher. St. Luke says, “The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him.” They expected Him to preach. And He did: “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” From the very beginning, God’s Word was meant to be proclaimed and then broken open so God’s people could understand and respond.   The early Christians continued this pattern. Around the year 155, St. Justin Martyr described Christian worship this way: after the readings from “the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets,” the “president of the assembly” (that is, the bishop or priest) would “offer a verbal instruction and exhortation” to the people. In other words, there was preaching—an explanation of the Scriptures and an exhortation to live what had been heard.   The Church today continues this ancient practice. The Second Vatican Council teaches that the homily is not an optional speech but “part of the liturgy.” On Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation, the homily is required. Its purpose is simple and beautiful: to break open the Word of God so the people can receive it, understand it, and allow it to shape their lives.   Many Catholics understandably treat the homily as though it were the most important part of the Mass, or at least just as important as the Eucharist itself. Modern culture plays a part in this, since in many Christian communities the sermon is the center of worship. And even as a priest, I place great effort into preaching well because it matters. But the homily is not the center of the Mass. The sacrifice is.   The Church teaches clearly that the Eucharistic Prayer—when Christ’s sacrifice on Calvary is made present—is the “center and summit” of the entire celebration. The homily prepares us for that moment; it does not replace it. This was the understanding of the early Fathers of the Church as well. St. Augustine, one of the greatest preachers in Christian history, tells his people again and again why he preaches: so that they will be properly disposed to approach the altar. His goal was not simply to inform or inspire but to purify, encourage, and awaken the hearts of his listeners so they could participate fruitfully in the sacrifice of Christ. The homily opened their hearts; the Eucharist transformed them.   Of course, we’ll talk more about the Eucharistic sacrifice in future sessions of our Massterclass.

For our Catholic Massterclass today we’ll talk about the readings proclaimed during Mass.The proclamation of the Word of God has always been part of Christian worship. St. Justin Martyr, who lived in the 2nd century, mentions that something is always read from what we would call the Old Testament and also from the “memoirs of the apostles”, which is the New Testament. The exact structure of the Biblical readings has had a few different forms over time, but it’s always been there. Our current structure provides us with three readings, or four if you count the Responsorial Psalm. I’ve spoken about the layout of the readings in previous sessions of the Massterclass, so I won’t repeat what I said then. It is, however, worth our time to recall what St. Paul says: “All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17). Having the Biblical readings in our worship is helpful for us because it keeps us close to God’s spoken voice, training us in righteousness, and it reveals God’s glory. Even if the readings sometimes feel distant or difficult to grasp, the Word of God still accomplishes what it intends (cf. Isaiah 55:11). Hopefully we can all understand that the reality of having the Sacred Scriptures is a gift, even if we don’t understand everything, which leads us to respond, “Thanks be to God!” at the conclusion of each reading.   And among all the readings, none is more sacred than the Gospel. We stand for the Gospel out of respect for the life of Jesus, which is the primary subject of the Gospels. Because of the sacredness of the Gospels, the priest quietly prays two brief prayers—one before and one after proclaiming the Gospel.   The first one is said as he bows before the altar on his way to the ambo: “Cleanse my heart and my lips, almighty God, that I may worthily proclaim your holy Gospel.” There could be a reference here to the Call of Isaiah from Isaiah 6. The Lord brings him to the Temple where Isaiah sees the Lord in all of His glory. Isaiah realizes he is a man “of unclean lips” and begins to be worried about not being worthy to be in such a holy place. An angel brings a burning coal from a fire and touches it to Isaiah’s lips, cleansing him and making him ready for the mission God is about to give him as a prophet. The priest recognizes what a privilege it is to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the congregation for the glory of God, so he asks the Lord for a similar purification from his own sinfulness, so that he may proclaim the Gospel worthily and well. The next time you hear the Gospel proclaimed at Mass, remember these hidden prayers of the priest, and silently make them your own.   The second silent prayer immediately follows the proclamation of the Gospel. While the congregation is proclaiming, “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ,” the priest kisses the Gospel passage out of respect for the Word and says, “Through the words of the Gospel may our sins be wiped away.” He is asking that even the proclamation of the Gospel would have such an effect in our lives that it would lead to the forgiveness of our sins, so that we may all be worthy to stand in the Lord’s presence in His holy temple.

After the Sign of the Cross and the greeting, the priest says, “Let us pray.” Then there’s a pause — a quiet moment easily overlooked. But in that silence, something profound happens: the whole congregation is invited to pray silently, offering up their personal intentions, gratitude, and needs to God. When the priest then prays the Collect (pronounced KAH-lekt), he “collects” all those individual prayers and unites them into one voice before the Father. That’s why it’s called the Collect: it gathers — or collects — the prayers of the faithful into a single, solemn petition. The Structure of the Collect Each Collect follows a classic, time-tested pattern: Address to God the Father – “O God, who…” A reason or attribute – recalling something about God’s nature or saving work The petition – asking for a specific grace or transformation Conclusion through Christ – “Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son…” This structure beautifully mirrors how we approach God in prayer: we acknowledge who He is, recall His goodness, ask for what we need, and present our prayer through Christ in the Holy Spirit. A Window into the Day’s Mystery Each Collect expresses the theme of the liturgical day or season. On a saint’s feast, it may ask for the grace to imitate that saint’s virtues. On a Sunday in Lent, it may ask for purification or strength against temptation. It’s the first major prayer of the Mass that truly focuses our hearts on what God is doing today in His Church. The Priest’s Role The priest prays the Collect with hands extended — a gesture of intercession, representing Christ the High Priest. The people respond “Amen,” making the prayer their own. In that moment, the Church prays as one body, united in heart and voice before God. Why We Say “KAH-lekt” The word Collect comes from the Latin collecta, meaning “gathering.” In Church usage, it kept its Latin pronunciation (KAH-lekt), while the everyday English verb “to collect” shifted to kuh-LEKT. Keeping the older pronunciation reminds us that this is not just an ordinary act of “collecting,” but a sacred gathering of prayer — a holy moment that unites us before God. In summary: The Collect is far more than an opening prayer — it’s the Church’s first great act of communal prayer at Mass, drawing all our hearts together and lifting them to God as one.

After the Sign of the Cross and greeting, the Mass continues with the Penitential Act, a moment of humble preparation to enter the sacred mysteries. We begin not by pretending we are worthy, but by admitting that we are not — and trusting in the mercy of the God who calls us here. Maybe you remember last Sunday’s Gospel about the Pharisee and the tax collector. The tax collector stood off at a distance, beat his breast, and said, “Be merciful to me, a sinner.” We take that into our worship, for Jesus was clear that his approach was the righteous one.   The priest invites everyone to acknowledge their sins in silence, followed by one of three approved forms, the most familiar being the Confiteor (“I confess to almighty God…”). As we recite the Confiteor, we strike our chest just as the tax collector in the Gospel did. This is not a replacement for sacramental confession, but it truly disposes us to receive grace. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal notes that the priest’s prayer that concludes the rite — “May almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life” — is an absolution, though “it lacks the efficacy of the Sacrament of Penance” (GIRM 51). Still, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains (CCC 1436, 1458), venial sins are forgiven through the penitential act when we sincerely repent. This simple, honest moment clears the way for us to encounter the Lord with renewed hearts.   Immediately following this act of repentance, we cry out for mercy in the Kyrie eleison (“Lord, have mercy”). These ancient Greek words, among the oldest in the Mass, are not gloomy but hopeful — the plea of those who know God’s mercy is greater than their sin.   Then, on Sundays outside Advent and Lent, our tone changes from penitence to praise. We sing the Gloria, beginning with the angels’ hymn from Christmas night: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.” Having confessed our unworthiness and received mercy, we are now free to glorify God with joy. The Gloria praises the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, marveling at God’s holiness and goodness. It is not a request for anything, but a song of pure worship — a foretaste of the praise of heaven. The Gloria has been present from the beginning, and our current form of it has been virtually unchanged since the 9th century! One of things about the Gloria that I always like to mention is that it is so clearly focused on proclaiming God’s glory, which is yet another reminder that we are here for Him. Maybe some of us are getting a little tired of being reminded of this reality, but it’s one that has been unacknowledged too often in the past and we need the reminder.   Together, the Penitential Act and the Gloria form a rhythm of the Christian life itself: repentance leading to rejoicing, humility giving way to worship. Every Mass begins this way because every encounter with God begins this way — with mercy received and glory given.

What most people would understand to be the official beginning of Mass is the Sign of the Cross, something all Catholics are taught to do from as early an age as possible. Interestingly enough, almost no other Protestant denomination makes the Sign of the Cross, even while they may begin “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” When we trace the Cross upon ourselves and invoke the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we proclaim that: We belong to the Trinity, the God we are about to worship. We have been redeemed through the Cross of Christ. We enter this liturgy not as individuals, but as baptized members of His Body. The Sign of the Cross draws a clear boundary: what follows is holy. It marks the moment when we step from the ordinary into the sacred — from daily life into divine worship. Just as the priest and people crossed the threshold of the church to enter the building, the Sign of the Cross marks the spiritual threshold into God’s presence. Our physical act of tracing the Cross on our bodies reminds us that we are bodily creatures and the Cross is meant to be something we fully embrace by way of suffering and acts of self-denial, for it is through the Cross that salvation comes to us. Following the Sign of the Cross is the first dialogue between the priest and the people: “The Lord be with you.” “And with your spirit.” We find phrases similar to these in the Old Testament whenever God was about to give someone a mission that was much bigger than they could handle. We even see this in the Gospel of Luke when Gabriel comes to visit Mary: “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you…” From there he told her that she would bear God’s own Son in her womb - a much bigger mission than she could handle, but God’s grace and presence with her could bring it to completion. When the priest says, “The Lord be with you,” there is an acknowledgment that we are entering into a mystery that is much bigger than we can understand: our own mystical participation in the Paschal Mystery and heavenly worship. God’s grace and presence is necessary for us to understand and fully engage our worship of Him. Your response to the priest, “And with your spirit,” is an acknowledgment that God has given the priest a much bigger mission than he can naturally carry out, but God’s grace and presence in his core makes it all possible to be fulfilled. God’s grace makes the priest capable of acting in the Person of Christ as he leads everyone in heavenly worship on earth. Incredible! Just as with the Sign of the Cross, a gesture is included with the words. The priest extends his hands as he speaks to the people, as though saying to them, “I’m here for you, with you.” Remember, the priest is acting in the person of Jesus, and the dialogue is meant to be a dialogue of love. For the priest to say, “The Lord be with you,” is really for Jesus to be speaking through him in love. As a little note, the Roman Missal doesn’t list the people as extending their hands in return while they say, “And with your spirit,” so there is no need for you to do so.

When the priest enters the sanctuary at the beginning of Mass, one of his first actions is to bow to the altar and then reverence it with a kiss. (Whenever the tabernacle is in the sanctuary, the bow to the altar is replaced by a genuflection.) This gesture is rich with meaning, even though it is often quiet and unnoticed.   The altar is the central symbol of Christ in the church. It is not just a table where bread and wine are placed—it represents Christ Himself, the “living stone” rejected by men but chosen by God (1 Peter 2:4). It is also the place of the sacrifice, because on it the Eucharist is offered, which is one with the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross. For this reason, the altar points us both to Christ and to Calvary.   By bowing to the altar, the priest acknowledges Christ’s presence and honors Him with a gesture of humility. When he kisses the altar, it is an expression of love and reverence for Christ, who is both the priest and the victim of the sacrifice. In ancient times, altars were built over the tombs of martyrs, so the kiss also recalls the communion of saints who gave their lives for Christ and share in His victory.   The priest’s kiss, then, is a greeting of Christ and a recognition of the holy mystery about to unfold. It ties together Christ, the Cross, the saints, and the Eucharistic sacrifice into a single act of reverence. By beginning Mass this way, the priest shows that everything to follow is centered on Christ, whose love is at the heart of our worship.

At the beginning of every Mass, the priest walks in while the people stand and sing. This might seem like a simple way to “get things started,” but in reality it connects us with a deep biblical pattern of worship.   In the book of Exodus, we read that whenever Moses went into the Tent of Meeting to encounter the Lord, “all the people would rise and stand, each at the entrance of their tent, and look after Moses until he had gone into the tent” (Ex 33:8). Moses entered God’s presence on behalf of the people, and they stood in reverence, watching and praying as he went. They remained outside of the Tent while Moses encountered the Lord, but they were attentive to the reality before them.   When David was king and the place of worship had moved into Jerusalem, he instituted the practice of chanting with music during the worship. Later, in the Temple of Jerusalem, the priests would enter the holy place to minister before God while the people and Levites outside joined in song and psalms of praise. The movement of God’s minister into the sacred space was never silent or casual — it was surrounded with prayer and music.   This pattern continues in the Mass, but now in its fullness. Jesus is the new Moses who enters the true dwelling of God — heaven itself — to intercede for us. The priest walks to the sanctuary in persona Christi, in the very person of Christ, and so it is most fitting for the people to stand as he enters. At the same time, the priest walks forward also as a representative of the baptized, who share in Christ’s priesthood by their baptismal identity. The people are not left outside, as Israel once was, but are invited to participate in Christ’s own offering.   That is why the entrance is not usually silent or passive. The whole assembly joins in song — whether a chant or a suitable hymn. The Church intends this entrance chant to echo the psalms of old, or at the very least to lift our hearts and minds to the worship of God. By standing and singing as the priest enters, we show that we are a pilgrim people, led by Christ into the presence of God, and united in the worship about to unfold.

Finally, we move into the Mass with our Catholic Massterclass. Can you believe we spent the first 29 weeks talking about Catholic Mass before actually getting into the details of the Mass itself? I don’t know what you thought about that, but I have found the Mass to be such a rich source of connections between the past and the present and, of course, of the eternal future. I have especially enjoyed seeing all of the connections with Old Testament worship in the Temple. Let’s jump into the details.   The first thing you may notice at Holy Mass in our parishes is also something you may notice to be absent in many Catholic churches: bells are rung to signify the beginning of Mass. Many Catholic churches have the habit of ringing bigger bells outside of the church to signify that Mass is going to begin soon, but not as many have bells inside the church to signify the immediacy of Mass’ beginning. Either way, what is the deal with the bells? That’s what we’ll look at in this week’s Catholic Massterclass.   The practice of ringing bells in connection with worship of God has its origins in…Old Testament worship - what a surprise! 🙂In Exodus 28:33-35, the Lord instructs Moses to create vestments for Aaron the high priest, which are to have bells on them so they can be heard when he goes to offer worship to God. When the people hear the bells, they understand that something incredibly important and holy is about to take place. The bells serve as a call to attention, so the people can stop what they are doing or saying and pause for a time of reverence. They could know that the high priest is working for them, interceding for them before God. Perhaps strangely to us, the bells were so important that the high priest would have died if they couldn’t be heard both when he entered the Temple and when he departed. Evidently, it’s very important to the Lord that His people are aware of the sacrifices being offered.   For us as Catholics, bells serve a similar purpose. The bells you may hear outside a church, usually rung about ten minutes before Mass begins, serve as a reminder to everyone around, Catholic or not, that our worship of God is going to begin soon, “so you better pick up your pace and get in here.” The bells you may hear immediately before the entrance procession call attention to those in the church that the priest is about to enter the sanctuary, the Christian place of worship. The priest is about to go to work for you, interceding for you before God. Of course, you are meant to participate in the offering, but the priest acts as the head of the assembly just as Christ is the head of the Church. Hopefully when you come into the church, you are already striving for silent reflection and reverent preparation, but the bells still serve as a call to greater attention and reverence, to set aside any distracting thoughts and concerns so you may give your attention to the holy sacrifice of the Mass.   We will talk about bells a bit further down the road in our Massterclass, but here’s another neat development: some people have seen the bells to be an instrument that drives away evil spirits and calling upon the heavenly hosts of angels to protect us from temptation and distraction. It may be a helpful thought for you to think of the bells in this way: Heaven and earth are about to meet on the altar, and the sound of the bells reminds us that God prepares the way for us to focus on that reality by clearing the invisible realm around us, sending the enemy away and sending the aid of his angels. Lovely!

For this week’s Catholic Massterclass, we’re going to dip our toes into something a little more controversial. To get to the point, I would like to ask a question: If you traveled to another country and tried to strike up a conversation, what language would you expect the people to speak? I hope the answer is obvious: you’d expect them to speak whichever language is primarily spoken in that country. In Germany, they would speak German, and you’d be ok with it because you know you’re not in your homeland. In France, they would speak French, and you’d be ok with it because you know you’re not in your homeland. We could go on and on with the different languages of each country. Some people enjoy going to other countries and listening to the local language - I’ve heard it said, for example, that French is such a beautiful language to hear, even if none of the words are understood. Others might go visit another country and wish the people would speak English, but they still expect that most won’t know English because that isn’t the main language of the land.   One of the things I’ve been mentioning about the Church is that she is Catholic - universal. The Catholic Church is present around the world, speaking every language under heaven. At the same time, being a universal Church, the Church also has a universal language, one that could be spoken anywhere in the world and is meant to be understood by all of her members. Unfortunately, this universal language is probably not known and understood by too many members of the Church today, but it is still worth mentioning. That language is Latin—at least for the Latin Rite, which is the largest part of the Catholic Church. The universal language of the Church is meant to be something that expresses our unity, especially during Holy Mass. As has been mentioned several times throughout our Massterclass, I know some of us grew up in a time when Mass was exclusively offered in the Latin language all around the world. When the Second Vatican Council changed the Mass, Latin was almost universally set aside in favor of the vernacular - the local language spoken in any given location. This switch helped people around the world become more familiar with the words being spoken and prayed during Holy Mass. It was a great gift for many people. What’s often forgotten, or has never been taught, is that the Church still holds that Latin is her mother tongue and that she would like her members to know at least some parts of the Mass in Latin. This may come as a surprise, but the Church actually asks that we know how to recite the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer in Latin. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal even says: ‘Since the faithful come together from different countries, it is desirable that they know how to sing together at least some parts of the Ordinary of the Mass in Latin, especially the Profession of Faith and the Lord’s Prayer.’ This seems like something worth pointing out, even if it seems difficult to imagine us getting to a place where we recite or chant the Creed in Latin each week at Mass. It is growing more common to hear the Lord’s Prayer chanted in Latin, but even that seems fairly daunting to accomplish in an average parish. I know some of us may not like “going back” to using Latin, but this will be just for today. It’s a chance to get a fresh taste of the Church’s native language, and to remember that our worship isn’t about what we prefer—it’s about offering God the glory that is His due. Even if it feels unfamiliar, it’s a small way of joining more fully in the sacrifice of the Mass. What a great opportunity to sacrifice by being present at Mass in a language you don’t prefer!

We have just two weeks left of this portion of our Catholic Massterclass before we FINALLY start going through Mass step-by-step.   In the Gospel of Luke there is the famous story of the Road to Emmaus. Jesus has risen from the dead and appears to two disciples who are making their way to Emmaus from Jerusalem. He is hidden from their vision - they take up a conversation with Jesus and don’t realize it - while they talk about the sadness of the Crucifixion. As they are walking, Jesus does something of a big Bible study, explaining how the entirety of the Scriptures (what we call the Old Testament) reveal that the Messiah had to suffer in order to save the people. He shows them that everything points to the truth of who Jesus is. When they finally reach their destination, Jesus remains with them. During their meal, Jesus takes bread, gives thanks, and breaks the bread. During the breaking of the bread, Jesus’ true identity is revealed to them and then he vanishes out of their sight. The two disciples run back to the Apostles gathered in Jerusalem and tell their story of how Jesus was made known to them in the break of the bread. It’s a very lovely story, but it also tells us something about Mass. We have two basic “parts” to our Catholic Mass, our time of worship. During the first part, we focus on the Word of God. This is usually called the Liturgy of the Word. The heart of the Liturgy of the Word is the reading of Sacred Scripture and the homily. The Word of God is proclaimed to us and we listen attentively with open hearts and minds, which is then followed by the priest explaining the Scriptures in such a way that, hopefully, we can see further references to Jesus. If you remember last week, I mentioned that the First Reading and the Gospel during Ordinary Time are meant to match up and make a connection with Jesus between the Old Testament and the Gospels. This is a great example of making a way for us to see Jesus more clearly in the full context of the Bible. Then with our minds more enlightened to understand Jesus, we move into the Liturgy of the Eucharist, which is focused on our participation in the Last Supper united to the Crucifixion. It is during the Liturgy of the Eucharist that the Body and Blood of Jesus are offered to the Father and then broken before us. The Eucharistic Bread is broken for us, which can help us to see Jesus’ true identity as the Messiah who has come to lay down his life for our salvation. At the end of Mass, we are dismissed: “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord,” or one of the other dismissals. Holy Mass is our own little Road to Emmaus, when Jesus opens our minds to understand the Scriptures, then reveals Himself to us more fully in the “breaking of the bread”, and then we are sent to proclaim the mystery to others who have not encountered Jesus in this way.. Lovely!

Last week I spoke about the Roman Missal as the primary book used by the priest during Catholic Mass and this week I want to take a moment to look at the other main book used during Mass, which is the Lectionary. The word Lectionary comes from the Latin word lectio, which means “to read”.    The Church has always had a Lectionary, although it has taken different forms throughout history. Before Vatican II, the Roman Lectionary followed a one-year cycle, repeating the same readings annually. The Council (1963) called for “opening the treasures of the Bible more lavishly,” leading to a three-year cycle (A: Matthew; B: Mark with John; C: Luke; with John included each year). This reform greatly expanded exposure to both Old and New Testament texts, allowing the faithful to encounter a fuller range of Scripture.   At Sunday Mass, the structure is: First Reading – usually from the Old Testament (Acts of the Apostles during Easter). Responsorial Psalm – sung/recited response. Second Reading – writings of the Apostles from the New Testament, especially St. Paul. Gospel – high point of the Word, proclaiming Christ’s life and teaching. The principles guiding selection of readings are: Harmony: Old Testament foreshadows and New fulfills. Semi-continuous reading: Books (esp. Gospels and Epistles) are read progressively across weeks. Christ-centered: The liturgical year unfolds the mysteries of Christ’s life, death, resurrection, and ascension.   The roots of a lectionary come from Judaism, where synagogue worship included fixed readings from the Law and Prophets (cf. Luke 4; Acts 13). Early Christianity continued this tradition—St. Paul urged public Scripture reading, and St. Justin Martyr (2nd c.) described Sunday worship with Old Testament and Gospel readings followed by a homily. Over centuries, the Roman Church often reduced readings to Epistle and Gospel only, but Vatican II restored the more ancient three-reading pattern.   I’ve mentioned this before, but a point worth making again is that, during Ordinary Time, the Old Testament reading, the Psalm, and the Gospel are meant to connect with each other. Sometimes that connection is obvious - for example, last week’s First Reading and Gospel both clearly speak about the value of humility - and sometimes that connection needs a little further exploration to find. The same pattern is not necessarily meant to be followed during the special seasons of the year, such as Lent and Advent.   The readings from the Bible come to us during the Mass and so even reading and listening to them contributes to our worship. At the same time, our souls can be fed by them as we hear God speak to His people. This is incredible nourishment that prepares us to love God better and follow Jesus more closely as His disciples.

One of the many great things about being Catholic is knowing that you can attend Holy Mass anywhere in the world and it will look and sound the same as everywhere else, even if it’s not being offered in your native language. On any given Sunday, the prayers and readings are the same all over the world. The offering of the Eucharist in worship is the same all over the world. It’s a great gift that many other Christians don’t have. In fact, the word “catholic” actually means “universal”, which means the Church is meant to spread all over the world, to reach all languages and nations in one universal religion. While we may have different cultural backgrounds, our worship is meant to share a kind of unity that transcends all of our differences. To assist us in that task, the Church has provided liturgical books as the source of our structure for Mass. This week and next, we’ll take a quick look at the two primary liturgical books that form the structure and content of our worship, namely the Roman Missal and the Lectionary.   The main book that you see the priest use for the prayers of the Mass is called the Roman Missal, commonly called the Missal. It is Roman because the Roman Catholic Church has its home base in Rome, where the Pope lives. The word Missal comes from the Latin word for Mass, Missa. We’ll talk more about Latin in a few weeks. The Missale (Latin again) is the Mass-book, which translates into Missal in English. The Roman Missal provides the structure of the Mass by way of instructions called “rubrics” and the various prayers of the Mass the priest offers on behalf of the people. They are called rubrics because they are written in red ink (ruby) and instruct the priest on what to do, while the prayers are written in black and reveal to the priest what to say. There is a common phrase: say the black, do the red.    As I mentioned back toward the beginning of our Catholic Massterclass, structure has always been an essential component of man’s worship of God. From the time of Moses onward, the Lord has provided a specific structure for His people as they come before Him to offer worship. The Catholic Church throughout history has understood this to be essential in offering Mass, especially as the Christian faith has spread around the world. There have been various changes to the structure of the Mass throughout history, but the same substantial reality has been present from the beginning and will be present until the end of time. Because of this reality, it is essential that the priest not deviate from the rubrics and prayers. Sometimes priests have thought that they could make a little addition or subtraction here and there, but these would be considered to be liturgical abuses. As I have mentioned throughout our classes, it’s incredibly important for all of us, clergy and laity alike, to remember that the Mass is about what we offer to God on His terms, which comes to us through His Church; it’s not about my preferences or yours. The Church teaches: It is the right of all Christ’s faithful that the Liturgy, and particularly the celebration of Holy Mass, should truly be as the Church wishes, according to the stipulations as prescribed in the liturgical books and in the other laws and norms. (Redemptionis Sacramentum, no. 12) You have a right to the proper celebration of Holy Mass and the priest has an obligation to properly offer the Mass. He does so when he follows the rubrics and offers the prayers with the Eucharistic sacrifices as the Church requires.

Chalice Last Supper cup; also Roman banquet vessel (calix) Holds the Precious Blood. Symbol of Christ’s Passion (“the chalice of suffering”) and salvation (“chalice of blessing”). Noble materials (gold, silver, or gilded interior); dignified, non-porous. Paten Roman banquet plate (patina) Holds the bread to be consecrated into Christ’s Body. Sign of the breaking of bread at the Last Supper. Noble material, same dignity as chalice; gilded on top surface. Ciborium From cibus = food; in use by 4th c. Holds consecrated hosts for Communion or reservation in the tabernacle. Lid = reverence & protection. Same material as chalice/paten; fitted cover for reservation. Pall From pallium = covering; medieval use Stiff square cover for the chalice. Protects Precious Blood from dust/insects. Symbol of Christ’s burial shroud. Linen (traditionally), stiffened with insert; usually decorated with a cross. Corporal From corpus = body; ancient origin Linen cloth on which Body and Blood of Christ rest. Symbol of burial shroud. Ensures no fragments are lost. White, absorbent linen (traditionally pure linen). Folded carefully. Purificator From purificare = to cleanse; medieval Used to wipe the chalice and purify vessels after Communion. White linen, usually with small cross. Must be reverently washed (sacrarium or separate first rinse). Altar Cloth Early Christian practice; by 4th c. universal Honors the altar (Christ Himself). Symbol of burial cloths and banquet tablecloth. At least one white cloth must cover the altar (tradition: three). Fine, worthy fabric. Altar Cross (Crucifix) Required since Middle Ages Visible reminder of Calvary; Mass is the same sacrifice as the Cross. Crucifix must be on or near the altar; visible to priest and faithful. Cruets Roman dining flasks; adopted by Christians Hold wine (Christ’s divinity) and water (His humanity). Also recall blood and water from His side. Glass, metal, or dignified material; distinguishable, practical size. Lavabo Towel Ancient handwashing custom in Temple & Roman dining Used by priest during lavabo ritual: “Lord, wash away my iniquity...” White cloth, simple, dignified. Chalice Veil (optional) Medieval development Covers the chalice before Mass; symbolizes reverence and mystery of the Sacrament. Cloth of the liturgical color; fine material. Burse (optional) Medieval Holds the folded corporal for transport to the altar. Same material as chalice veil; dignified. Monstrance (outside of Mass) 12th c., rise of Eucharistic adoration Displays consecrated Host for adoration. Rays symbolize Christ, Light of the World. Precious metals; luna with secure glass. Thurible & Boat From Jewish Temple & Roman practice; 4th c. Christians Incense = prayer rising to God (Ps 141:2), reverence, purification. Thurible = metal censer; boat holds incense grains. Dignified and functional.

The past two sessions of our Catholic Massterclass have approached the topic of vestments worn by bishops and priests during Holy Mass. I hope that was helpful for you to hear about them and learn their names. These bulletin articles may help you have an opportunity to go back and review at your leisure.   This week I’m going to attempt to tackle a daunting topic, keeping in the theme of dressing during Mass, which is what you are meant to wear during Mass. There are a few things we don’t particularly enjoy receiving instruction about and one of those things is our choice of clothing. In fact, I learned that this has been a topic addressed throughout history by various Catholic leaders. Some “hot topics” seem to always remain hot topics.   To begin, I want to be clear that there are no actual laws regarding how you are to dress when you come to Mass, except that you should be wearing clothes! 🙂 Local dioceses and/or parishes are allowed to implement policies and regulations for dress during Mass, but our diocese and parishes currently don’t have any such policies. Still, I think it’s worth our consideration to think about what we’re up to here. I’d like to propose some principles and invite you to consider how to dress according to those principles.   Jesus tells a parable about the Kingdom of Heaven in Matthew 22:1-14 - I’d invite you to read it - with the image of a banquet hosted by a king. People are invited to the banquet and make excuses for not attending, so the king invites anyone who wants to come. The scene ends with the king confronting a man who came to the banquet but was not dressed in a proper wedding garment. To be sure, there is symbolic meaning to this wedding garment, but there is also a reality that God expects us to be properly prepared to come to His banquet. On this side of Heaven, Mass is that banquet. It is the great feast where Jesus provides for us the best possible Food we can receive in the Holy Eucharist. We come to offer our worship, which is the sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Jesus, and then He feeds us with His Body and Blood. Incredible! Just like with the parable, the expectation is that we would be properly prepared for such a banquet. This includes above all our interior disposition - a spirit of reflection, repentance (maybe even going to Confession if we’ve committed a mortal sin), and awe - but it also includes our exterior disposition - dressing in such a way that we both know we’re attending something incredibly important and don’t want to draw attention toward ourselves. I attended a wedding recently and it seems everyone knew to dress better than they usually do and their dress revealed the dignity of the event. I’d invite you to consider whether you approach Mass with even more attention to the dignity of the event.   One little note: some of you grew up at a time when women had to wear some kind of head covering, and maybe others of us have seen a woman wearing a veil during Mass in recent times. Historically, the veil has been seen as a sign of modesty and humility for women in coming before the Lord. If you remember when I spoke about the veiling of the Ark of the Covenant and the other sacred articles of Israel’s worship, the people knew those holy, beautiful objects belonged to the Lord, so they veiled them to symbolize their beauty and glory. A woman wearing a veil is similar: reserving her beauty for the Lord. It is no longer a requirement, but I have noticed more and more women, especially young women, embracing this beautiful practice.

The first vestment the priest puts on is his alb and amice, which is the white base layer that goes over his normal clothing. Not every priest wears an amice, including me, because some albs are created differently. The Latin word albus means “white” and the alb has its origins in the Roman tunic and has been used in the liturgy since around the 4th century. It reminds the priest of the white garment given to him at his baptism, representing the purity of the soul post-baptism. The amice is a small white garment that goes around the neck area, similar to how a soldier wears chainmail as a base layer of his armor.   Around his waist the priest wears a cincture, which is a rope that acts as something of a belt, also dating back to the early centuries of the Church. It comes from the Latin word cingere, which means “to gird” or “to bind around”. It represents chastity and self-mastery. You might not notice the cincture because it is often hidden by the outer vestments.   Next is the stole, which is the slim garment worn around the neck. Again in the Roman Empire, officials wore long, scarflike garments. Catholic clergy started wearing them during liturgy as signs of ordination. Today it represents the authority and responsibility of the priesthood, an image of the yoke of Christ. Because it represents the authority of the priesthood, priests usually kiss the stole before and after they put it on.   An optional vestment is the maniple, which was required to use prior to 1967. Originally practical in purpose, it was used to wipe sweat from the brow of the priest. Over time, it developed to take on the symbolic meaning of the toil and suffering of ministry, and the tears of penance. It’s still an optional vestment, but it’s hardly ever worn outside of the Traditional Latin Mass.   Finally, over the top of everything is the chasuble, which is the big cloaklike vestment the priest (and bishop) wears. The Latin word casula means “little house”, which provides an image of the priest putting a little tent over himself, wrapped in the charity of Christ as he prepares for Mass.   As always, each vestment carries its own significance and meaning. Understanding the meaning helps us to enter into the liturgy in a deeper way. The priest acts in the person of Christ and the vestments help to reveal the different aspects of Christ’s role in our lives.

I’m excited for today’s Catholic Massterclass because we get to have a little show-and-tell. Last week I mentioned the vestment colors that the clergy wear during Mass and other liturgies. For the next two weeks I am going to focus on particular vestments, this week looking at the specific articles worn by bishops. It’s not very common to see a bishop during Mass, unless he comes for a Confirmation Mass or if you attend one of the bigger feast days at the Cathedral in Crookston. Still, there are some distinct articles worn by bishops that are helpful to understand for the next time you see one.   Starting at the top, the bishop wears two pieces of headgear that the priest doesn’t wear. The first of those is the miter, which is the tall pointy hat. The miter has its deepest origins in the Old Testament. The high priest was to wear a turban (sometimes translated as miter) to signify his office, which had a gold plate that read “Holy to the Lord” (Exodus 28:36-38). If you remember from previous homilies, Jesus Christ is the eternal high priest and all priests share in His high priesthood. Bishops share more fully in His high priesthood, so they are given more articles to emphasize this connection. The style of the bishop’s miter was influenced by the distinct headgear worn by Roman officials. The two points on the miter and two hanging bands symbolize the Old and New Testaments.   Underneath the miter is the zucchetto, which looks like a small skullcap. In the past, clergy received a tonsure—a ceremonial shaving of the crown of the head—as a visible sign of their consecration to God. The zucchetto originated as a means to keep their skulls warm in colder weather and protected from the sun in warmer weather. Over time it has become another symbol of the office the bishop occupies.   Moving down around the bishop’s neck is the pectoral cross, which is a cross he wears with a longer-than-usual chain. The cross rests near his heart and reminds the bishop to model his life on the Cross of Jesus Christ and to bear the burden of his office with that same charity of Jesus. The bishop of a diocese is responsible for every soul living in his diocese, Catholic or not, and this is a great burden to carry. It is his primary cross to bear.   Sliding down his right arm, we find on the bishop’s right hand an episcopal ring, which signifies the authority of his office. Romans in the Roman Empire wore rings as a sign of their authority and as their own personal seal. Since the Roman Catholic Church had its home base in Rome, bishops developed the practice of wearing rings also. There has been a custom throughout history to kiss the ring of the bishop as a way to honor his office and signify allegiance to his authority. Some people still choose to observe this practice today - when shaking the bishop’s hand, they will bow down to kiss his ring - not as personal admiration, but as a sign of reverence for the bishop’s apostolic office and the unity of the Church. The ring also symbolizes the bishop's fidelity to the Church, the Bride of Christ. Finally, in the bishop’s left hand is his crosier, which is symbolic of his role as the chief shepherd of his diocese. Just as shepherds use a crosier to guide, organize, protect, and defend their flock, so the bishop carries a crosier to signify that he must do the same with the charity of Christ the Good Shepherd, who leads us beside restful waters (Ps 23) and lays down His life for His sheep (Jn 10:11).

Priests wear different colors during the year when offering Holy Mass. What do those colors mean? Why do we have different colors?

Pausing for a brief moment of reflection, it's worthwhile to consider whether we really believe all of this about the Mass. Do I think it's the most important moment each week? Do I believe what has been taught? If so, it makes sense to spend significant time preparing for Mass each time I go. Extra time in prayerful silence, reading the readings ahead of time, going to Confession, etc. Everything important in life requires preparation. The Mass is the same. Similarly, the experience of the good things in life is only enhanced by taking time to savor the goodness after it's been experienced. It is worthwhile to take some extra time after Mass to savor what God has done for us.

Catholics commonly genuflect when they come into a church. Why is that? The same Jesus is present in the Eucharist as was in the Gospels, so it is appropriate that we show Him similar honor and reverence as we see in the Gospels. When we genuflect before the Eucharist, we acknowledge the presence of the One who has the power of creation and rules our lives.

Catholics instinctively know to dip our hands into the holy water at the entrance of the church and bless ourselves with the sign of the cross. Do we know why we do it? This is a reminder of our baptism, an expression of being open to receiving grace from God, a bid for divine protection from evil, and a great way to prepare for worship.

Catholics a required to fast from food and water for one hour prior to receiving Holy Communion. Why is that a law? How long have Catholics done this? This Massterclass session explores this practice and the reasons for it.

The Lord gives instructions about the bread of the presence in the Old Testament (Exodus 25:30 and Leviticus 24:5-9), which is a sign of God's presence among the people and of the covenantal relationship they share. Jesus gives us a New Bread of the Presence in the Eucharist, which is more than a sign - the reality of His Presence among us and the New Covenant. Incredible!

Sometimes you may see the tabernacle with a veil over it or in front of it. There may be something similar in front of the altar. What is that all about?

An integral part of our worship is lifting our voices in song and chant. This has been part of liturgical worship since the time of David the king and has been a vital part of Christian worship from the beginning.

In the Temple worship, the priest would receive the offering from the people and then turn to offer the sacrifice to God on their behalf. He would face the same direction, the same Person in worship, as the people. The priest in Mass offers the sacrifice of the Eucharist on behalf of the people, which may be done facing the same direction as the people, ad orientem.

This week we look more closely at incense. It is found in Old Testament worship and in the Heavenly liturgy. It is also found in Catholic Mass. It points us to sacrifice. It symbolizes prayers rising to God. It brings greater dignity to worship. It engages the senses. It veils the holiness of God.

There were sacred vessels used in the Temple to carry out the particular sacrifices and offerings. We also use sacred vessels for Mass, which are truly holy and help us to recall the dignity of the Eucharist and of Mass.

We take a look at some of the core furnishings of the Temple and how they compare with some of the core furnishings of a Catholic Church.