Our first reading outlines the Old Testament’s strict legal requirements for those suffering from skin diseases such as leprosy.  Seen as ritually impure, highly contagious—a threat to the rest of the community—they were to present themselves to the priests who would declare them unclean and they would be cast out from the community, the town, removed from relationships with all others…they would, in a sense, be totally banished and isolated.

And so our gospel is filled with surprise:

• first, a leper approaches Jesus, threatening in one sense to make the master Himself ritually impure, as well as physically unclean/dirty/infected;
• The leper surprises us as he declares that he knows Jesus can heal him, restore his health and livelihood, bring him back into communion with all people, the Church…Jesus can give the man his life back.

And, not surprising to us, Jesus does just that.  We hear him instruct the one He has restored to quietly show himself and offer to God according to Moses’ decree…yet the man does not.  Filled with rejoicing, we can understand why he is exuberant, can’t we?

Imagine if you were set outside of communion with God and with all others for a period of time that is not only extensive but also indeterminate, that is to say, beyond your ability to correct or limit or control.  Imagine, to put it bluntly, being an illegal immigrant.  Or imagine being a despised ‘prostitute of ancient times’, or a hated minority or outcast.  Yes, aren’t these conditions akin to the leper of our gospel?

St. Paul, in our second reading, encourages us to be—along with him—imitators of Christ Jesus.  And so let us welcome all others as Christ does, disregarding difference/dis-ease/and accepting them as Christ accepts us.  Thank the good Lord that all are welcome to come to Him, be touched and healed by Him, welcomed into the circle of love by Him!

We’ve been blessed these last few weeks to see inklings of sunlight—sometimes overwhelming in their brightness—during a season that is often overcast, dark and frigid.  Usually, as in our first reading, we can hear Job’s lament with consonant ears: “Is not our life on earth a drudgery? …assigned months of misery and troubled nights?”  We too, often wonder, don’t we, if we’ll ever see happiness again?

• Consider those who are suffering terrible illness;
• or those who are even now painfully enduring the agonizing death of their husband or wife of so many years, so many joys, so many loves;
• what about those who are in such painful agony that they reach out to so many different addictions in order to ease their pain or longing….

It is enough to think of certain unforgettable pages of the rest of the Book of Job, which present our human, ongoing frailty.  In fact, we are like those who “dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is the dust, who are crushed more easily than the moth.  Between morning and evening they are destroyed;  they perish for ever without anyone regarding it”.  Again, Job continues to confess:  “My days are swifter than a runner; they flee away, they see no happiness.  They shoot by like skiffs of reed, like an eagle swooping on its prey”.

The sense of human limitation is intense in these passages.  Our existence has the frailty of the grass that springs up at dawn; yet suddenly it hears the whistle of the sickle that reduces it to a heap of hay.  The freshness of life all too soon, gives way to the dry emptiness of death.

Yes, so many of us rightly wonder if we’ll ever see happiness again.

Ah, but then we hear Jesus respond, “Let us go on to the nearby villages.”  After spending a whole day of hours upon hours curing the sick, He does not stop, but rather reaches out to each of us and to others—all others—so that He becomes the antidote to our drudgery, our restlessness, our “months of misery”.  Yes, when the nights drag on and we are filled with restlessness, only one thing makes us want to get out of bed in the morning: Jesus Christ!

For, in Christ, our gracious God rebuilds Jerusalem one broken heart at a time.  To the weak, He became weak, to win over the weak, says St. Paul in our second reading.  And we, too, sharing in weakness, desire that Christ speak words of comfort, of compassion, of holy closeness and intimate love with each one of us.

And he does.  He reaches out to grasp our hand, to restore us again and give us life, to help us up…that we might begin anew…afresh with His own Spirit, awash in His own Light.

Yes, we’ve been blessed indeed to see light in these dark days and months and years.  And through it all, Christ is that light that rebuilds us, clings to us, gives us hope and encourages us on the journey toward His Kingdom.

May He bless us again throughout this week ahead.

You may be unaware, but I suffer from high levels of anxiety.  I know it’s absurd, but it’s just my lot at this point in my life.  Case in point: over the last four months, you’ve surely noticed that our offertory collections have been significantly higher.  You’d think I’d be very happy…grateful for your stewardship of treasure, but the opposite has been true.  You see, we can track our offertories week to week as the years go by and without much trouble we can regularly and accurately predict each week’s offertory.  That hasn’t been the case during these months.  I’ve been seeking the reason, but to no avail!  The economy is still not that strong; we’ve not seen a huge increase in worshippers; our music & liturgy haven’t really changed that much…and my homilies aren’t any shorter.  So, my anxiety levels have been up: why the sudden and drastic increase in giving?  Why is it still staying up?  How long will it last?

Well, thank the good Lord, last week it came back down to steady!

I know: it’s absurd for me to worry and be anxious…and these only confuse and confound me…and I’m distracted from the reality and truth that our people have been generously sharing from their treasure and that God is clearly blessing us.  Yes, anxiety, distraction and the resulting confusion are not helpful, and yet, they are age-old challenges are they not?

St. Paul speaks of distractions and the cloudy focus they impart.  Even in our first reading, we hear the Israelites praying NOT to hear the voice of God nor see His presence, erroneously thinking that either holy experience would lead to their doom.  And even our Lord in today’s gospel experiences—in those present at the synagogue—how confusion keeps them blinded to who Jesus Christ really is.  Sure, the crowd is fascinated by his teaching and they are enthralled by his miraculous works, but they fail to hear that he is “the Holy One of God”.  No, the amazement over Jesus’ powers does not at all mean that the people believe in him…and so they miss a crucial and life-changing opportunity to accept the revelation of God’s chosen One.

May the same not be said of us: my each of us struggle with and, God-willing, overcome our many anxieties, distractions and resulting confusion; may we be able to see & hear Jesus for who he really is, and with the Holy Spirit’s aide, rejoice that He comes into our midst to share his life, death, and resurrection with us.

Two days ago I had my monthly meeting with my spiritual director: a fellow-priest who is a very prayerful man and who is grounded in his parish ministry.  Anyway, this session lasted twice as long as usual because I was expressing to him some of my spiritual struggles of late.  As I shared many of the small, simple images which were contributing to the larger struggle, he listened gently and reflected his very keen understanding.  Yet, along with this understanding came some very powerful guidance and insight!  Yes, with the help of saintly images and delicate theological points, he and I were able to come to new depths of my appreciation for priestly ministry in our parish.  It was quite beautiful, really.

As much as I’m grateful for this priest’s insight and direction, I must admit that it is clearly God’s work that really makes the difference in these spiritual struggles.  Sure, I was the one seeking to wrestle with my dryness, and I was the one hoping for consolation in my personal prayer, but it was God’s Holy Spirit who then allowed me to see Him anew.  God is the one who continues always to invite me into deeper faith in—and rest with—Him.

Recall Samuel in our first reading: he is disposed to hearing the Lord’s voice in his sleep, but it takes another—Eli—to direct him to listen and respond.  Thus Samuel is schooled to move toward the reward of knowing God.  And what of Andrew in our gospel? Or Simon?  Both of these grow into apostles first from their openness and seeking, then through their dialogue with another (Andrew with John, and then Jesus; Simon with Andrew and, of course, then with Jesus as well).

It would seem to me that as we enter into the ordinary times of the Church year, we might consider how we are disposed to God’s whisper, His promptings, His invitation.  We might, too, consider how we enter into a dialogue of faith with God and others.  Clearly, our disposition and our dialogue can be paths toward the greatest of rewards: the gift of faith…the gift of God’s own self.

(It’s been wonderful to celebrate the Christmas season with so many–and to enjoy a short hiatus from my weekly blog.  This weekend, my online reflections begin again:)

In our everyday lives, we are busy about many things and many ‘do-ings’.  We strive for income, for purchasing goods, for acquiring, for recognition…the list is almost endless.  Yet, on today’s feast, we find that we are doing nothing…yet.  This word “epiphany” or ‘manifestation’ is not something that the Magi do; rather it is something done to and for them.  Almighty God reveals and makes known the gift of Himself in the little babe at Bethlehem, and the Magi are witnesses; recipients of this revelation, this manifestation.  Unwarranted on their own accord, these wanderers follow the inclinations of the Star and they are brought to rejoice when they see the Christ-child.  God’s own initiative manifests the vision of His gift, and from there, after adoring, the Magi go forth by a new route: a route of rejoicing and proclaiming what they had heard and seen.

Now that this epiphany has been shared with us—the Church—we too, after adoring, are invited to take on new ‘do-ings’.  We are given the awesome task of sharing what we have seen, and heard, and learned, and now know:  that God makes his dwelling among our human race and his dwelling is eternal, is one of peace.  May our voices, our activities and our very lives echo the great news of the Magi and the song of the angels.

The “O Antiphons” refer to the seven antiphons that are recited (or chanted) preceding the Magnificat during Vespers of the Liturgy of the Hours. They cover the special period of Advent preparation known as the Octave before Christmas, Dec. 17-23, with Dec. 24 being Christmas Eve and Vespers for that evening being for the Christmas Vigil.

The exact origin of the “O Antiphons” is not known. Boethius (c. 480-524) made a slight reference to them, thereby suggesting their presence at that time. At the Benedictine abbey of Fleury (now Saint-Benoit-sur-Loire), these antiphons were recited by the abbot and other abbey leaders in descending rank, and then a gift was given to each member of the community. By the eighth century, they are in use in the liturgical celebrations in Rome. The usage of the “O Antiphons” was so prevalent in monasteries that the phrases, “Keep your O” and “The Great O Antiphons” were common parlance. One may thereby conclude that in some fashion the “O Antiphons” have been part of our liturgical tradition since the very early Church.

The importance of “O Antiphons” is twofold: Each one highlights a title for the Messiah: O Sapientia (O Wisdom), O Adonai (O Lord), O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse), O Clavis David (O Key of David), O Oriens (O Rising Sun), O Rex Gentium (O King of the Nations), and O Emmanuel. Also, each one refers to the prophecy of Isaiah of the coming of the Messiah. Let’s now look at each antiphon with just a sample of Isaiah’s related prophecies :

O Sapientia: “O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to salvation.” Isaiah had prophesied, “The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him: a spirit of wisdom and of understanding, a spirit of counsel and of strength, a spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord, and his delight shall be the fear of the Lord.” (11:2-3), and “Wonderful is His counsel and great is His wisdom.” (28:29).

O Adonai: “O sacred Lord of ancient Israel, who showed yourself to Moses in the burning bush, who gave him the holy law on Sinai mountain: come, stretch out your mighty hand to set us free.” Isaiah had prophesied, “But He shall judge the poor with justice, and decide aright for the land’s afflicted. He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked. Justice shall be the band around his waist, and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.” (11:4-5); and “Indeed the Lord will be there with us, majestic; yes the Lord our judge, the Lord our lawgiver, the Lord our king, he it is who will save us.” (33:22).

O Radix Jesse: “O Flower of Jesse’s stem, you have been raised up as a sign for all peoples; kings stand silent in your presence; the nations bow down in worship before you. Come, let nothing keep you from coming to our aid.” Isaiah had prophesied, “But a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom.” (11:1), and A On that day, the root of Jesse, set up as a signal for the nations, the Gentiles shall seek out, for his dwelling shall be glorious.” (11:10). Remember also that Jesse was the father of King David, and Micah had prophesied that the Messiah would be of the house and lineage of David and be born in David’s city, Bethlehem (Micah 5:1).

O Clavis David: “O Key of David, O royal Power of Israel controlling at your will the gate of Heaven: Come, break down the prison walls of death for those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death; and lead your captive people into freedom.” Isaiah had prophesied, I will place the Key of the House of David on His shoulder; when he opens, no one will shut, when he shuts, no one will open.” (22:22), and “His dominion is vast and forever peaceful, from David’s throne, and over His kingdom, which he confirms and sustains by judgment and justice, both now and forever.” (9:6).

O Oriens: “O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.” Isaiah had prophesied, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shown.” (9:1).

O Rex Gentium: “O King of all the nations, the only joy of every human heart; O Keystone of the mighty arch of man, come and save the creature you fashioned from the dust.” Isaiah had prophesied, “For a child is born to us, a son is given us; upon his shoulder dominion rests. They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.” (9:5), and “He shall judge between the nations, and impose terms on many peoples. They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again.” (2:4) .

O Emmanuel: “O Emmanuel, king and lawgiver, desire of the nations, Savior of all people, come and set us free, Lord our God.” Isaiah had prophesied, “The Lord himself will give you this sign: the Virgin shall be with child, and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel.”

(7:14). Remember “Emmanuel” means “God is with us.”

According to Professor Robert Greenberg of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, the Benedictine monks arranged these antiphons with a definite purpose. If one starts with the last title and takes the first letter of each one – Emmanuel, Rex, Oriens, Clavis, Radix, Adonai, Sapientia – the Latin words ero cras are formed, meaning, “Tomorrow, I will come.” Therefore, the Lord Jesus, whose coming we have prepared for in Advent and whom we have addressed in these seven Messianic titles, now speaks to us, “Tomorrow, I will come.” So the “O Antiphons” not only bring intensity to our Advent preparation, but bring it to a joyful conclusion.

Clearly, from last week’s beginnings, Advent shows us not only that we are people of suffering (see our first reading from Isaiah), but we are also the blessed beneficiaries of God’s mercy and comfort (this week’s first reading is God’s response, “Give comfort to my people”).  But it’s easy for us to have missed such a message, tucked away in a few simple Scripture passages.  In fact, in today’s world, there are lots of distractions that can keep us from seeing, from hearing, from experiencing the blessings of our great God.

And so it is: so easy for us to let the season of Advent pass us by without truly preparing ourselves to celebrate our Lord’s birth. Yet, when we enter fully into this season, our hearts become filled with joy as we await the celebration of the birth of our Savior. The Advent season becomes, then, a time of joyful anticipation. We recognize with the eyes of faith that God, in his love for us, has sent his son into the world to bring us peace and joy. This is the true gift of this season: our heavenly Father’s gift of his Son for our salvation. In the midst of this season, we would be served well by recognizing that just as the Father has given us such a gift, so must we seek to give the gift of his love to one another.

Heaven and Hell (Anonymous)

A man spoke with the Lord about heaven and hell. “I will show you hell,” said the Lord, and they went into a room which had a large pot of stew in the middle. The smell was delicious, but around the pot sat desperate people who were starving. All were holding spoons with very long handles which reached into the pot, but because the handle of the spoon was longer than their arm, it was impossible to get the stew into their mouths. Their suffering was terrible.

“Now I will show you heaven,” said the Lord, and they went into another room identical to the first one. There was a similar pot of delicious stew and the people had the same long-handled spoons, but they were well-nourished, talking and happy.

At first the man did not understand. “It is simple,” said the Lord. “You see, they have learned to feed each other.”

We have these Advent weeks to reflect on the love God has shared with us through the birth of his Son. We will discover through this holy season that our greatest joy will come when we seek to feed one another. Giving of ourselves for the sake of another is the example that our Lord has set for us. May we not allow this time to be only about the presents that are bought, given, received and sometimes returned, but rather, let us enter deeply into the gracious love we share in, when we receive our Lord on Christmas Day.

Happy Solemnity of Christ the King!  So many of us associate this solemnity and Christ’s Kingship with the kind of photo you see to the left: Christ victorious, in glory, accomplishing all that is supremely Good: establishing a Kingdom of Justice, Love & Peace…all the ideals our world and her various societies need.

Yet, as often as we might hope for a regal ruler of the Kingdom of God, we are quickly reminded that God stoops to accept & embrace all of our humanity, including jeering, suffering, and even death.  But as King, Christ rules even those darker aspects of our lives.  A blessed feast to you.

(The first photo is taken from a seminary in Ottawa, while the second photo is of the main crucifix of the cathedral in Lucca, Italy)

For the last few weeks, we’ve been considering the various effects we will experience as we implement the third edition of the Roman Missal next weekend.

From principles, we began to consider practical adjustments last Sunday.  Today, I’d like to continue our reflections beginning with the Lord’s Prayer.  Already we’ve considered our posture and the common gesture of hands folded in prayer during our liturgy whenever we are standing.  In fact, once we stand for the Lord’s Prayer, we will remain standing for quite some time as the liturgy flows and peaks.

Take a moment to recall what the purpose of liturgy is.  While worship of God is the reason for our prayer, liturgy is the way we demonstrate our faith in a visible, tangible way; it’s through ritual that we express together what we believe.  When we celebrate the liturgy then, especially the Eucharist (or ‘Mass’), we express what we believe in word and song and action…together, in unison and in unity.

Now I realize that over the last 45 years, we’ve been attempting to express this common unity in word and song and action.  For those who are a little older, you’ll easily remember that when you used to go to Mass, the primary work of the liturgy was done by the priest: you weren’t really encouraged to fully, actively and consciously participate.  Instead, you would go to confession or pray the rosary or perform a novena all while the priest was doing the work of the liturgy.  It was as if there were two worlds: the world of the sanctuary and the world outside the sanctuary.  But with Vatican II’s renewal of the liturgy, it was desire of the Church that each and every believer participate most fully in the prayer & ritual of the Mass.  We were asked to set aside our own particular & private devotions in order to take up the one, universal ritualized liturgy of the Church together.  This is one of the many reasons why we instituted lectors and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion, why we have modified the ministry of usher to encompass all of the various aspects of hospitality.  And throughout the last 45 years, we have been growing toward that full, active, conscious participation in the heavenly liturgy which comes into our midst and the midst of the universal church.  Thus as we enter into the liturgy, we enter into this one, common, unified worship of God that is offered by the entire Church, wherever and whenever she worships.

So, moving into the Communion Rite, let’s recall some of our gestures as well as consider a new posture.  For the reception of Holy Communion, one first needs to be properly disposed to receive the Lord’s Body & Blood.  Each person—according to their ability—then approaches the sanctuary with hands folded in prayer.  In unison and with little pageantry, the faithful form an ordered procession.  At the present time, most people make a profound bow as they stand immediately in front of the minister.  There have been some close calls over the last few years as people have bowed and in the process have knocked the paten or bowl containing the Eucharist.  So, it is my hope that we will modify this only slightly:  as you are approaching the Communion Minister and there remains one person between you and the minister, please make your profound bow at that time.  Once you have bowed, you then take another step or two toward the minister in order to receive.  The minister will continue to say, “the Body of Christ” to which you properly respond, “Amen.”  Now, there are two ways you might choose to receive the Body of Christ: either on your tongue or on your hand.  In either case, recall that you are “receiving” the Lord.  Here, we experience a number of varied ways people act: they either grab for the host, or they hold their hands at an angle, or they forget to hold their hands out at all; or, if on the tongue, they do not hold their head up so that we can actually see where to place the host, or they only open their mouth a bit and do not hold out their tongue, or they may hold their head and tongue steady up until the last moment and then lunge forward…clearly not the cleanliest manner.

So, if you are receiving on the hand, after saying “Amen,” simply hold your hands straight out and flat, with the left hand atop the right.  The minister can then place the host on your left hand and with your right hand, you then transfer the host immediately, from your hand to your tongue.  If you are “a south paw”, simply reverse the hands.  You are then invited to approach the minister of the Precious Blood.  If you receive the Body of Christ on your tongue, after saying “Amen,” simply hold your head up, open wide your mouth and lay out your tongue…this will allow the minister to share Holy Communion with you in a most reverent fashion.  You, too, are then invited to share in the Blood of Christ.

Again, while there is still one person in between you and the minister, make your profound bow then…and then after saying “Amen” you may grasp the chalice and consume the Precious Blood…after which you may procession back to your seat.  Please note well: I did not say you may process out into the parking lot!  No, the liturgy is not fulfilled quite yet, there is still work that God has yet to do for us…and we have yet to participate.

A simple notation here is worthwhile: when you receive either the Body of Christ from the paten, or the Blood of Christ from the chalice, you are actually and truly receiving both the Body & Blood of Christ in either species.  Practically speaking, for those who cannot partake of the physical presence within the sacred wine or the sacred, wheat host, please know that if you receive only one of the sacred species—either the Body of Christ within the element of bread or the Blood of Christ within the element of wine—you are actually partaking of both divine realities, the Body and the Blood of Christ.

Here is introduced one of the more drastic modifications that we will adopt in our parish beginning next week.  Once you return to your place, please do not kneel or sit yet.  Instead, honor well the principle of “common-unity” and continue to pray fervently for all others who are still approaching for Holy Communion.  Once the last person has received Holy Communion, all are then encouraged to kneel together, offering sublime prayers of thanksgiving to God.  Once the tabernacle has been sealed, only then may we all be seated together.

In this weekend’s bulletin, there is a very short reflection that further highlights the reasons behind our common gestures and postures during the Communion Rite…if you have any doubts or you’re not sure you have understood some of these instructions, please read the bulletin insert this weekend…it’s fairly brief.

After some time for silent prayer, we are invited to stand together for our Prayer after Communion, the blessing and the dismissal.  Please keep in mind, that the dismissal is God’s sending forth for each of us…and, after the presider has recessed, all are invited to either offer a private prayer of thanks, remain in the Church for any private devotions or to proceed into the world to be that leaven which hopes to raise all people to the glory of the Father.  Yes, this is the point at which you are encouraged to leave this place rejoicing.

So, now, this has been a lot, I know.  You’ve been very attentive and considerate these few weeks as we’ve delved into the third edition of the Roman Missal.  Thank you for allowing me your attention, your considerations, and your goodwill.  I only have three brief caveats:

1.        As much as we will strive for greater common-union within the Universal Church located here in Clinton Heights, utilizing strong liturgical principles: be aware that not every parish is going to do exactly as I have been describing.  No surprise there, huh?  But rest assured, that we have to presume that every parish, and every Catholic, will be doing their very best to be faithful to the Church’s liturgy;

2.        There really is no need for us to act as though we’ve been deputized to become “liturgical police”.  Instead, we’ve been thoroughly invited to unite our minds and hearts, our words and gestures and postures.  But there are sometimes circumstances that people find themselves in, from which they are unable to participate in common postures or gestures.  That’s alright…do the best you can.  What is not alright is when someone might choose to actively disagree with our worship, to stubbornly set themselves outside of communion with the worshipping body.  Still, our best response will always be one of charity and acceptance of whomever comes to be with us…however they come to be with us.  There’s never a need, however, for us to ‘police’ the liturgy.

3.        Be patient over the next several weeks, months and even years.  This is all so new to every one of us…myself very much included!

• Be patient with me as I work very hard to lead our common prayer: I guarantee you I will make mistakes and I’ll stumble across new words and phrases for months to come.
• Be patient with those around you: we all learn and adapt at different speeds and in different ways…simply be accepting of the best efforts of all those around you.
• And by all means, be patient with yourself.  You may find that the comfort of prayer might escape you for a few weeks, or you may become distracted by all the modifications.  That’s natural, so expect it.  And when it comes, welcome that challenge, and simply keep trying to enter more fully, actively and consciously into the ritual & liturgy of the Church…all while God Himself comes to meet us and dwell within & among us!

Thank you again; God bless you and love you always.

For the last couple of weeks, we’ve been considering some essential principles that exist to guide our worship as a community of faith, principles such as common-unity in our words of faith, and the principle of open submission to communal, universal worship instead of merely engaging in our own private devotion.  One additional instruction should govern our rituals: if an element (be it a gesture or posture or words) is not provided for by the liturgy, it should not be introduced.  When I was in seminary and as transitional deacons we were to practice celebrating Mass, there were times when a student would make a gesture that was not called for (for example, making the sign of the cross over the chalice prior to co-mingling the Body & Blood of Christ—a former practice, but one that was discontinued with the second edition of the Roman Missal).  When asked why he was doing it, the student would inevitably say that he had seen it done that way before.  Our professors were quick to correct us, reminding us that what is provided for by the liturgy is more than adequate for our spiritual health—we need not and should not remove or introduce any elements whatsoever that were outside of the liturgy and its goal.

A further illustration: in one of our parishes outside of downtown Albany, there is a local practice of having everyone present recite the doxological prayer, “Through Him, With Him, In Him…”.  While that might sound very nice and inclusive, it still however is in direct opposition to the Church’s liturgy: it is the role of the priest presider to proclaim this summation of our redemptive, Eucharistic faith, to which all those present are invited to respond with full, active and conscious faith, “Amen”.

Practically speaking, this will affect us most dramatically when we consider our gesture during the Lord’s Prayer.  While sociologically and/or psychologically there may be just reasons for us to take on a posture of open arms during “the Our Father”, maybe seen as a gesture of openness and submission, it is however not what the Church is asking of us as participants.  Instead, united under the care of the priest presider as shepherd, the faithful are invited to unite their words with the one, common prayer Christ shares with us…without hands raised.  It is fitting for the presider to maintain his particular gesture of orans, simply because he continues to gather and offer all of the prayer of this united people during worship.

Now this may not sound like a terribly difficult modification to our current practice; however, realize that for some, this will be a significant challenge.  Again, I invite you consider opening yourself up to the greatest degree when we humbly gather in God’s presence during our celebrations of Mass.  In the same vain, I would offer to you that I am not making up or fabricating what the Church is asking of each one of us: this is simply, and wholly, the universal prayer of the universal Church.  For us to be in deeper communion throughout the Church, it is best signified by our universal postures, gestures and words.

So to carry these principles into our worship, let’s take a few moments today to consider how our liturgy will take shape beginning in 2 weeks time.

From the moment we begin to gather, we’re invited into this Sacred Space to renew our friendship with one another and with God.  We bless ourselves with holy water, we may then continue to greet one another and share our care and our love with one another.  We move toward a pew or seat, and we genuflect to the tabernacle and/or make a profound bow to the altar.  We may kneel for a few moments as we gather our thoughts and prayers and intentions.  Our Cantor (who will also take on the role of “commentator” or director of worship during our ritual) will introduce the liturgy with words of welcome and reflection (and, if necessary, brief announcements).

After a few moments of settling our spirits into our ritual, we are invited to stand for our introductory rites.  As we stand, the default posture we usually maintain is one of hands folded in prayer.  Consider how you will stand: will it be an attentive posture, or will it be one of exhaustion or distraction or boredom?  will you slouch or will you stand erect, offering honor to the person of Christ who is in our midst?  Finally, throughout these introductory rites, I invite you again to engage yourself fully in the prayer and overall ritual: sing to the best of your ability, respond with one voice, together—not racing ahead of others, but looking to maintain an actual ‘single prayer’ with your sisters and brothers.  If the penitential rite calls for us to do so, strike your breast once as we recall our own fault.  And by all means, be willing to offer a full voice to our acclamations, like “And with your spirit” and “Amen”.

Our lectors (and, by the way, our Extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist…at the appropriate times)—as they approach the sanctuary, will make a profound bow at their waist, to signify not only the holy space that they are approaching, but also to honor the altar of sacrifice where Christ will come to feed us with His Body and Blood.  As we hear the Word of God proclaimed in our assembly, we are seated, but again, with an attentive posture, ready to accept this Word as “a living Word”, breathed into our midst and our very selves.  Our responsorial is exactly that, our living response to the saving word that has been proclaimed in our hearing.

For the gospel acclamation, again we rise and sing with full voice.  We listen attentively and actively to the gospel proclaimed, and we are seated for the homily.  (now, if you needed a time to fall asleep for a bit, I might suggest that this is a perfect time!)

After the homily, we generally rise to proclaim our faith.  Again, we join in a universal truth that is expressed now in our midst as a single profession, our voices in good cadence together.  After this, we are then invited to formulate our own particular, local prayers.  During this rite, it is so appropriate for us to pray for our own particular intentions all while offering our greater, communal intentions for the Church and the world…and all our inhabitants.  At the conclusion of this prayer, we are then seated as the offertory is received and the altar is prepared.

And thus begins our most immediate preparation for the implementation of the new Roman Missal in just two weeks.  Next week, we’ll continue to consider the second half of our ritual worship and further adjustments to our words, our postures and our gestures.

Finally, please be most open to modifications, to adjustments and to changes.  If we can only relax in the blessed work of our Saving God, only then can we be truly engaged in, and affected by, the great and awesome acts of God in our celebrations of the Sacred Liturgy, the Mass.

Let us be a people of great peace and joy this week and always.