Greg Smisek, who publishes an e-newsletter for young adults on Catholic events and news in the Twin Cities, included a short article this week about the new translation of the Roman Missal. I'm reprinting it today, in honor of Thanksgiving Day.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving!

Last week at their fall meeting, the U.S. Bishops approved the last of the texts of the long-awaited English translation of the Roman Missal. But it will be another year or so before the texts can be used at Mass. In the meantime, you can get a taste of what we can look forward to at the Bishops’ website, www.usccb.org/romanmissal.

Apropos the national holiday, I thought I’d provide the following future text (not authorized for use yet):

Priest: The Lord be with you.
People: And with your spirit.
Priest: Lift up your hearts.
People: We lift them up to the Lord.
Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
People: It is right and just.

It is truly right to give you thanks,
truly just to give you glory, Father most holy,
for you are the one God living and true,
existing before all ages and abiding for all eternity,
dwelling in unapproachable light;
yet you, who alone are good, the source of life,
have made all that is,
so that you might fill your creatures with blessings
and bring joy to many of them by the glory of your light....

— Preface of the Fourth Eucharistic Prayer (study text)

More on the new translation

Labels: church, liturgy

During the past week, many people have been watching a YouTube video of a wedding entrance. It doesn't take place at a Catholic wedding, but it clearly seems to be in a Christian context.



There's something infectious about the moment. It's a fun celebration of the joy of the moment, communicating a carefree sense of celebration... a unique, creative and serendipitous ode to human love.

However, it seems to me that such an outpouring of self-expression is more suited to a reception than the start of a worship service. In the words of Cardinal Ratzinger,

"Real liturgy implies that God responds and reveals how we can worship him. In any form, liturgy includes some kind of 'institution.' It cannot spring from imagination, our own creativity -- then it would remain just a cry in the dark or mere self-affirmation. Liturgy implies a real relationship with Another, who reveals himself to us and gives our existence a new direction." (The Spirit of the Liturgy, "Liturgy and Life")

I think the young playwright Karol Wojtyla had a similar insight, more particularly as it relates to marriage, in a passage from The Jeweler's Shop. A couple struggling through their married life after starting on a wobbly foundation observe their situation as follows:

CHRISTOPHER
When we took the rings I felt your hand trembling ....
We forgot to pay attention to the face of that old man,
whom Mother told me about: his eyes are said to be very expressive.
It is not our fault that we read nothing
in his eyes; and he said little -- things we knew anyway.
So do not be surprised, Mother, than his words left no trace
(things we knew anyway -- we did not sense greatness),
and Monica's trembling hands told me much more.
I was engrossed in her being moved, and in my own
experience of her being moved, which I shared fully
-- and I saw us two deep down in our own experience:
I think I love her very much.

MONICA
We were taken up with each other -- how could we tear ourselves away ...
He did nothing to fascinate us ...
he simply measured, first, the circumference of our fingers, then of the rings,
as an ordinary craftsman would. There was no artistry in it even.
He did not bring us closer to anything. All the beauty remained
in our own feeling. He did not widen or narrow anything ...
I was absorbed by my love -- and by nothing else, it seems.

In essence, the hyperfocus on their own powerful emotions / desire for each other overshadowed the sacramental and transcendent dimensions of the vows they were entering into. The jeweler, a priest-like figure who stood before them -- almost like a witness at a marriage -- was in the periphery of their experience, a mere tired formality in the background of what they perceived as most important.

I wonder how often this sort of thing happens to men and women approaching the altar and the sacrament of marriage. How often does God's role in the marriage covenant become only window dressing for a couple preparing for marriage? I don't have the answer, but only want to pose the question.

We live in a hypersentimental culture. But sentimentality doesn't carry us through trials and difficulties. The grace of God -- the initiating and sustaining power of human love, enabling two distinct persons to become one flesh in the mundane but very demanding sacrifices of each being for the other -- is an essential part of what Christians acknowledge and ask for when they come together in the covenant of marriage.

I know some will say I'm a spoil-sport for raising this question, but is an entrance procession like the one above really an appropriate way for a couple to present themselves before God and the human community at the threshold of their marriage vows? I don't know the answer, but merely want to raise the question.

Labels: church, John Paul II, liturgy, marriage and family, moral life, multimedia, poetry, prayer, sacraments

When I reached the prison camps of Siberia, I learned to my great joy that it was possible to say Mass daily once again. In every camp, the priests and prisoners would go to great lengths, run risks willingly, just to have the consolation of this sacrament. For those who could not get to Mass, we daily consecrated hosts and arranged for the distribution of Communion to those who wished to receive. Our risk of discovery, of course, was greater in the barracks, because of the lack of privacy and the presence of informers. Most often, therefore, we said our daily Mass somewhere at the work site during the noon break. Despite this added hardship, everyone observed a strict Eucharistic fast from the night before, passing up a chance for breakfast and working all morning on an empty stomach. Yet no one complained. In small groups the prisoners would shuffle into the assigned place, and there the priest would say Mass in his working clothes, unwashed, disheveled, bundled up against the cold. We said Mass in drafty storage shacks, or huddled in mud and slush in the corner of a building site foundation of an underground. The intensity of devotion of both priests and prisoners made up for everything; there were no altars, candles, bells, flowers, music, snow-white linens, stained glass or the warmth that even the simplest parish church could offer. Yet in these primitive conditions, the Mass brought you closer to God than anyone might conceivably imagine. The realization of what was happening on the board, box, or stone used in the place of an altar penetrated deep into the soul. Distractions caused by the fear of discovery, which accompanied each saying of the Mass under such conditions, took nothing away from the effect that the tiny bit of bread and few drops of consecrated wine produced upon the soul.

the priests in the Nazi prison camp of Daucau
fashioned this makeshift monstrance

Many a time, as I folded up the handkerchief on which the body of our Lord had lain, and dried the glass or tin cup used as a chalice, the feeling of having performed something tremendously valuable for the people of this Godless country was overpowering. Just the thought of having celebrated Mass here, in this spot, made my journey to the Soviet Union and the sufferings I endured seem totally worthwhile and necessary. No other inspiration could have deepened my faith more, could have given me spiritual courage in greater abundance, than the privilege of saying Mass for these poorest and most deprived members of Christ the Good Shepherd’s flock. I was occasionally overcome with emotion for a moment as I thought of how he had found a way to follow and to feed these lost and straying sheep in this most desolate land. So I never let a day pass without saying Mass; it was my primary concern each new day. I would go to any length, suffer any inconvenience, run any risk to make the bread of life available to these men.

Fr. Walter J Ciszek, SJ - in He Leadeth Me

Labels: communion, Eucharist, liturgy, paschal mystery, prayer, sacraments, suffering

The Catholic Spirit has profiles of the three men to be ordained to the priesthood at 10 am today at the Cathedral of Saint Paul: Deacons Douglas Ebert, Allan Paul Eilen, and Michael Johnson. Click on the images below to read about each of them.

    

Come to our help,
Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God;
you are the source of every honor and dignity,
of all progress and stability.
You watch over the growing family of man
by your gift of wisdom and your pattern of order.
When you had appointed high priests to rule your people,
you chose other men next to them in rank and dignity
to be with them and to help them in their task;
and so there grew up
the ranks of priests and the office of levites,
established by sacred rites.

In the desert
you extended the spirit of Moses to seventy wise men
who helped him to rule the great company of his people.
You shared among the sons of Aaron
the fullness of their father's power,
to provide worthy priests in sufficient number
for the increasing rites of sacrifice and worship.
With the same loving care
your gave companions to your Son's apostles
to help in teaching the faith;
they preached the Gospel to the whole world.

Lord,
grant also to us such fellow workers,
we are weak and our need greater.

Almighty Father,
grant to these servants of yours
the dignity of the priesthood.
Renew within them the Spirit of holiness.
As co-workers with the order of bishops
may they be faithful to the ministry
that they receive from you, Lord God,
and be to others a model of right conduct.

May they be faithful in working with the order of bishops,
so that the words of the Gospel may reach the ends of the earth,
and the family of nations,
made one in Christ,
may become God's one, holy people.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

source: Ordination Rite, Order of Priest, prayers of consecration

Labels: church, communion, events, Holy Spirit, liturgy, prayer, priesthood, vocations

Today is Divine Mercy Sunday, a time to remember in a special way the message of our Lord to St. Faustina Kowalska, a simple nun from Krakow in early part of the 20th century.

When I was studying in Europe as part of a semester-abroad program in 1992, I had a chance to visit Krakow and visit the convent where Sister Faustina lived. I remember leaving from Steubenville's Austrian campus early that day -- which meant skipping out of the end of a talk given by Cardinal Schönborn, who was reading to us from the latest draft of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Just one more thing to lay before God's mercy...

When we arrived in Krakow, it was hard to find Sr. Faustina's convent -- although the fact that none of my classmates spoke Polish might have had something to do with it... We just pulled out our holy cards with the image of the Divine Mercy on it, and first were directed to the wrong church! But we eventually got there, and the sisters were kind enough to show us around... we saw the sisters' cemetery, the chapel that contains the image, and the tomb of St. Faustina. Here are a few photos...

The sister's cemetery

Praying at the tomb of St. Faustina

The Divine Mercy image in the chapel

A Polish holy card

Labels: Easter, liturgy, mercy, saints

The feast of Divine Mercy is this coming Sunday. Visit the website of the National Shrine of Divine Mercy for all kinds of information about Saint Faustina, the Divine Mercy chaplet, and John Paul II's special devotion to the Divine Mercy.

I remember reading St. Faustina's diary about fourteen years ago, after visiting her convent outside of Krakow, and being very moved not only by her mystical experiences but also her deep and abiding love for God and for sinners. Two of my favorite quotes:

Only love has meaning; it raises up our smallest actions into infinity (Notebook I, #502)

Almost every feast of the Church gives me a deeper knowledge of God and a special grace. That is why I prepare myself for each feast and unite myself closely with the spirit of the Church. What a joy it is to be a faithful child of the Church! Oh, how much I love Holy Church and all those who live in it! I look upon them as living members of Christ, who is their head. I burn with love with those who love; I suffer with those who suffer. (Notebook I, #481)

So why not prepare yourself for this feast of the Church? Many parishes will be having Divine Mercy devotions this Sunday at 3 pm, the hour of mercy. While the Divine Mercy novena began on Good Friday, it's not too late to join in. You can also download a talk on Divine Mercy to your computer or MP3 player, compliments of Fr. Jay Finelli, the iPadre.

Labels: Easter, liturgy, mercy, multimedia, podcasts, prayer, saints

Parting of the Red Sea by Arnold Friberg

From the conclusion of Pope Benedict XVI's homily at the Easter Vigil:

There is a surprising parallel to the story of Moses’ song after Israel’s liberation from Egypt upon emerging from the Red Sea, namely in the Book of Revelation of Saint John. Before the beginning of the seven last plagues imposed upon the earth, the seer has a vision of something “like a sea of glass mingled with fire; and those who had conquered the beast and its image and the number of its name, standing beside the sea of glass with harps of God in their hands. And they sing the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb …” (Rev 15:2f.). This image describes the situation of the disciples of Jesus Christ in every age, the situation of the Church in the history of this world. Humanly speaking, it is self-contradictory. On the one hand, the community is located at the Exodus, in the midst of the Red Sea, in a sea which is paradoxically ice and fire at the same time. And must not the Church, so to speak, always walk on the sea, through the fire and the cold? Humanly speaking, she ought to sink. But while she is still walking in the midst of this Red Sea, she sings – she intones the song of praise of the just: the song of Moses and of the Lamb, in which the Old and New Covenants blend into harmony. While, strictly speaking, she ought to be sinking, the Church sings the song of thanksgiving of the saved. She is standing on history’s waters of death and yet she has already risen. Singing, she grasps at the Lord’s hand, which holds her above the waters. And she knows that she is thereby raised outside the force of gravity of death and evil – a force from which otherwise there would be no way of escape – raised and drawn into the new gravitational force of God, of truth and of love. At present she is still between the two gravitational fields. But once Christ is risen, the gravitational pull of love is stronger than that of hatred; the force of gravity of life is stronger than that of death. Perhaps this is actually the situation of the Church in every age? It always seems as if she ought to be sinking, and yet she is always already saved. Saint Paul illustrated this situation with the words: “We are as dying, and behold we live” (2 Cor 6:9). The Lord’s saving hand holds us up, and thus we can already sing the song of the saved, the new song of the risen ones: alleluia! Amen.

Labels: church, Easter, liturgy, paschal mystery, pope benedict xvi

Fr. Tom Margevicius, a member of the Companions of Christ who teaches liturgy at the Saint Paul Seminary, has written a great series of articles on the Mass. Here's a link to the first article as it appeared in The Catholic Spirit:

Part I: What we believe is what we pray and live

I especially like this passage:

A few years ago, a college sports team met with President Bush, and people gasped because some women on the team wore flip-flop sandals. The reaction was reasonable because for really special events we dress up.

The Eucharist commemorates the most important event ever, and our words, actions and objects should dress it up. That's why the church protects worship from becoming too pedestrian. Not just anybody leads the Eucharist. We choose particular men and ordain them to do so. We don't use paper cups and plates, nor do we talk to God using words like, "Hey, Dude!" Something special is going on.

Of course, here in southern California we have different ideas about how to dress up for Mass...

Labels: liturgy, prayer