Announcing the Gospel

Why do people clap at the end of Mass?

2010-01-07T12:37:00.009-07:00

The simplest explanation is that people want to express their appreciation to those who assisted with the Mass: the musicians, the readers, servers and, of course, the clergy. This otherwise benign gesture, while well-intentioned, has become a normal part of the liturgy in a growing number of parishes. Unfortunately, it reveals a serious misunderstanding of what the Mass is all about.

Why do people clap? It’s customary to clap at the end of a performance, even mediocre ones. You buy your ticket, you find your seat and you watch politely as the performers do their thing. At the end of the performance, you clap. If it’s an especially good performance,

you might give a standing ovation; maybe even call for an encore. In the theater it’s clear who’s who: you’re part of the audience and the actors, singers, dancers and musicians are the performers. You watch; they perform. In the theater or the stadium, you’re not one of the players; you’re a spectator. You paid for admission and you expect a good show.

This mind-set has begun to creep into the Mass. How did it happen? After all, one of the most important teachings of Vatican II, and one of the main reasons for many of the liturgical changes since the Council, was to foster greater participation on the part of the laity. “Mother Church,” the Council Fathers said, “earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that fully conscious and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy.” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 14). It’s one of the reasons, by the way, that the vernacular was allowed freer use in the liturgy, even though Latin is still the norm (SC 36, 54).

Vatican II, it is said, erased the rigid boundaries between the hierarchy and the laity. No longer were we to think of the Church in terms of a two-tiered system with clergy and religious in a higher, “holy” class – and the rest of us, who are members of an inferior spiritual class. Vatican II stressed the idea that everyone, by virtue of baptism and confirmation, are called to holiness no matter what one’s state of life was. Supposedly, before the Council the people were passive and compliant. Their only purpose, it seemed, was to “pay, pray and obey.” But Vatican II was supposed to have changed all that by encouraging the laity to be more actively involved in the life and mission of the Church.

Thankfully, there has been a lot more active participation in the Church on the part of the laity since Vatican II, which is why clapping at the end of Mass puzzles me. Because what it conveys, albeit unconsciously, is that many Catholics do not see themselves as members of the Body of Christ and active participants in the liturgy, but as consumers of religion and spectators of spiritual ‘sport.’ What does “full and active participation” really mean? It can mean, of course, the involvement of lay people in the liturgy as readers, extraordinary ministers of communion, altar servers, etc. But as Bishop Conley explains “full, conscious and active participation” can also mean something else; something that might appear inactive. “This kind of participation,” he said, “could be hidden and contemplative. That is to say, someone could be fully and actively, even mystically engaged in the liturgy and there would be no visible evidence of that. Only God would know!”

One of the more obvious changes following Vatican II has been for the priest to face the people during the Eucharist. The reason for the change was to foster the very thing the Council called for: greater participation. With the priest facing the people the liturgical action of the altar is much more visible to the congregation, thus enhancing their participation in the Mass. With the priest facing the people, however, there’s a tendency to see him as an actor on a stage. The liturgy then runs the risk of revolving around the priest rather than around Christ.

Even if the priest and the people ‘face each other’ their essential orientation is not toward each other, but toward God. “Liturgy,” Pope Benedict XVI said, “implies a real relationship with Another, who reveals himself to us and gives our existence a new direction.” There are many occasions where facing each other is appropriate, but Mass is different for there the priest and people together direct their attention to the Lord in praise and adoration “as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior.”

Clapping at the end of Mass, though well-meaning, is not appropriate because it expresses the idea that we are merely spectators of a religious performance done by others rather than an active participant in it – the very thing Vatican II was trying to correct. “The celebrating assembly,” it said “is the community of the baptized who, ‘by regeneration and the anointing of the Holy Spirit, are consecrated to be a spiritual house and a holy priesthood, that through all the works of Christian men they may offer spiritual sacrifices.’ This ‘common priesthood’ is that of Christ the sole priest, in which all his members participate.”(Lumen Gentium 10; Catechism no. 1141)

Do you see yourself as an observer of the Mass or an active participant in it? Do you see yourself as a religious ‘consumer’ or a follower of Christ? You are no less a part of the liturgy if you sit in the back pew than the reader or an extraordinary minister of the Eucharist, for the Mass is something we do together. Obviously, expressing your appreciation to the musicians or clergy is a very nice thing to do and I don’t want to discourage that. But if you want to show your appreciation to the preacher for a good homily or to the musicians for fine music, then tell them after the Mass. But save the clapping for the theater.

The Road

2009-12-10T12:10:00.000-07:00

Starring Viggo Mortensen (Lord of the Rings) and Kodi Smit-McPhee

If you want to see what a world without God looks like, see “The Road.” It’s a rather dark and depressing film, but I recommend it. It’s the story about a father and his 10 year old son who have survived a mysterious, apocalyptic cataclysm which has destroyed nearly all life on the planet. The movie follows their journey from their home in the mountains to the coast, where they hope things will be better. Food is virtually non-existent. As a result, some people have turned to cannibalism to survive. Much of the dramatic tension in the movie involves the father and son eluding gangs who prey on other humans. Clinging to each other in love, they are able to survive.

Throughout the film dark, heavy clouds hang in the sky, adding to the hopelessness of the situation. The earth is dying. Nobody can be trusted. Many people, including his wife, have committed suicide. But father and son don’t give up. The father does everything he can to stay alive, to protect his son and teach him how to survive in merciless and dangerous world. One of the first rules is not to trust anyone. But the boy is still young. He has not completely lost his innocence, even though he is very much aware of the dangers. In one scene the pair come to an abandoned farmhouse. Upstairs, they discover the gruesome remains of the owner in his bed. As the father takes the blanket from the corpse he notices the shock on the boy’s face. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he says matter-of-factly.

Most importantly though the boy has not lost his faith in humanity. He’s cautious, but he still has the capacity to trust and to see the good in others. In another scene, the boy and his father meet an old man (played by Robert Duvall) stumbling along the road. At the boy’s insistence they give him some food from what little they have. That evening around the fire, after the boy has fallen asleep, the old man says, “When I saw your son I thought I was seeing an angel.” In this dying world where cannibalism is prevalent children, being easy prey, have become practically extinct. The father replies, “To me, he’s more than an angel. He’s God!”

The boy is a Christ-like figure for he is a beacon of hope and light in a very dark and dangerous world. He reminded me of that passage in John‘s gospel which says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5) The world into which Jesus was born was full of despair and hopelessness. True, the world was at peace (Pax Romana) and Rome was at the height of its power, but there was a spiritual ennui, torpor, malaise that was sapping the life from Rome and her citizens. The emperor provided games and bread in abundance in order to mollify the people, but deep down the empire was dying.

There are other religiously significant scenes that I could describe that, I think, makes the film worth seeing. You should see the movie for yourself. Like I said, it’s a dark film, but as the gospel of John put it, there is a ray of light that pierces through the gloominess leaving you with a sense of hope in spite of the darkness.

Faith and Reason

2009-11-09T16:22:00.001-07:00

Evangelization Basics

2009-11-02T11:16:00.004-07:00

Take a look at this 'how to' guide for evangelization:

Evangelization 101

Creation: God's First Sacrament

2009-10-26T14:00:00.003-06:00

I received a contact on my facebook from a guy I went to grammar school with. We were best friends in fifth and sixth grade, but I haven’t heard from him in ….. never mind; it was a long time ago.

At any rate, my old friend was surprised by the fact that I’m Catholic and work for the Archdiocese of Denver. His question to me was intriguing: “Did you find some of your spiritualism in nature?” “Spiritualism” I thought, “that’s an interesting word.” I don’t know what he meant by it, but it did prompt me to think about the connection between God, or that mysterious Other that people can’t or won’t name, and nature and evangelization.

I work at the John Paul II Center for the New Evangelization. From my office I can see the snow covered Rockies from Pike’s Peak to Mt. Evans. It’s really incredible and one of the things that makes being Catholic in the Archdiocese of Denver so special. The connection between God’s goodness revealed in nature and the work we do here is always right there in front of you. You can’t miss it.

For many people, nature is their first contact with God. Sometimes it’s their only contact. For some, nature is God. Be that as it may, nature is the first announcement of the Gospel whether they recognize it or not, for most people can’t help but feel the inherent goodness in it. Nature has a transcendent quality that points to something beyond itself, and most people sense that.

Nature has always spoken to me of something, or Someone, beyond it. Maybe it’s because nature makes me feel so small and vulnerable. Here in Colorado, that sense of smallness is especially noticeable when you're working your way up a 14er struggling for oxygen. The feelings I had when I went to church as a kid were not that much different from the one's I had when I was playing outside or fishing with my dad in the Sierras.

Those feelings haven’t changed much over the years. The vast panoramas and huge skies from the summit of a mountain speak of God’s magnificence. The afternoon thunderstorms that appear suddenly out of nowhere or a raging forest fire remind you of God’s power and unpredictability; the clear-flowing streams of His life-giving spirit.

Creation makes the infinite, invisible, transcendent God present so that we can know Him. Creation is not God, of course, but it points to Him and reveals His glory. As Scripture says, “The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament proclaims his handiwork!” (Psalm 19:1).

The Church Fathers often spoke of creation as God’s first sacrament. It’s the perfect word. It’s not a word you hear everyday either. It’s a uniquely Catholic word. The Church Fathers also talked about two “books” that God uses to teach us about Himself: the Bible and the ‘book’ of nature. Today, when most people are so conscious about the environment, nature can be an effective ‘springboard’ to start talking about God.

My old friend from grammar school, who is a very accomplished artist said, “I have found nature to be such a great teacher about light and color, and dynamic change, that I imagine you'd find things there as well to contemplate in your line of work.” He’s got that right. You can see his work here: http://billcone.blogspot.com/

Anglican Reunification

2009-10-20T11:56:00.001-06:00

One of the fruits of Vatican II was a commitment to ecumenism with a view toward the reunification of the Church in obedience to Christ’s prayer: “That they all may be one.” (John 17:21). No one, of course, knew how or when that would happen, or what shape it would take. In a startling new development, Pope Benedict XVI has authorized the creation of a new Church structure, called “personal ordinariates” (basically non-geographical dioceses) to accommodate Anglicans who have been seeking closer ties with Rome for a number of years. As a former Episcopal priest myself, this development is most welcome. According to Cardinal Levada, Prefect for the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) the new provision is “a recognition that many Anglicans share the Catholic faith and that Anglicans have a spiritual and liturgical life worth preserving.” It is estimated that some 400,000 Anglicans worldwide will be affected by this provision.

Read more: Anglicans

Sacred Direction

2009-10-20T11:44:00.010-06:00

“If then you have been raised with Christ seek those things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.” (Colossians 3:1)

If you want to get people excited, or just get their attention, bring up something having to do with the liturgy.

In August Bishop Michael Slattery of the diocese of Tulsa wrote an article about celebrating the Mass ad orientem (“toward the east”). One of the reasons he celebrates the Mass that way, he said, besides the fact that it’s been the constant practice of the Church for two millennia, is that it magnifies the sacredness of the Mass by focusing on the transcendence of God. In the last 40 years as the priest and people celebrated the Eucharist facing each other, the sense of God’s majesty and transcendence has diminished. The lessening of a sense of the sacred is reflected, I believe, in the way people dress. If you’re having a picnic together, it doesn’t matter how you dress. In fact, in that situation casual attire is quite appropriate. But if you’re going to worship the King of kings and Lord of lords, you’d be inclined to dress differently. True, God is near us, for “in him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28). But to suppose that such closeness means that we are identical with God is a serious mistake. God remains, even in his closeness, wholly other.

Bishop Slattery opined that when the priest and people face each other it can give the impression that they are talking to each other about God, rather than directing their prayers and petitions to God himself. In the liturgy God addresses us and we respond. The trouble with constantly facing each other is that we can become self-absorbed, leading us to believe that there is essentially no distinction between us and God and therefore no need to change; no need for repentance and conversion. The community can turn into a self-enclosed circle. “Of all horrible religions,” G.K. Chesterton wrote, “the most horrible is the worship of the god within. That Jones shall worship the god within him turns out ultimately to mean that Jones shall worship Jones. Christianity asserts that a man had not only to look inwards, but to look outwards, to behold with astonishment and enthusiasm a divine company and a divine captain.” Christ calls us to take up our cross and follow him. The cross, whose arms radiate outward to infinity, invites us to do the same. A circle, on the other hand, is closed in on itself and finite. “What corresponds with reality of what is happening [in the Mass] is not the closed circle but the common movement forward, expressed in a common direction for prayer.” (Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Spirit of the Liturgy, p.81)

Bishop Slattery doesn’t celebrate ad orientem at every Mass mind you, nor does he require his priests to celebrate that way. Versus populum is still the norm. But he does value the traditional posture and explains why it’s important. As an important aside, it’s worth noting that in Eucharistic Adoration we focus our attention on Christ, not each other. Since Adoration is an extension of the Eucharist, this form of devotion is highly instructive. Knowing the significance of ad orientem can help us better understand the Mass, no matter what direction the priest faces.

The essential elements of the Eucharist can be summarized in the following five points:

1. The Mass is a participation in the Most Holy Trinity: In the Eucharistic sacrifice Christ offers himself to the Father in the Holy Spirit.

2. The whole Christ offers himself to the Father. The priest visibly represents the “head” (in persona Christi capitas) while the people visibly represent the Lord’s body. Priest and people, head and body together offer the one sacrifice of Christ. United to Christ in Baptism we, the members of his body, participate in his unique, unrepeatable sacrifice.

3. In statu viae. The whole created order is in a “state of journeying.” (Catechism, 302). It has not yet reached its perfection. We are a pilgrim people journeying toward the Promised Land; we are a people ‘on the march.’ Some people think that ad orientem represents a step backward. On the contrary, ad orientem is a “progressive” posture because it conveys the idea of moving forward. It is not static or regressive, but dynamic and progressive. In the liturgy, we are going somewhere. As Jesus said, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Lk. 9:62).

4. “Thy Kingdom Come:” One of the most common prayers of the early Church was Marana tha – “Come, Lord!” The Mass orients us toward the eschatological future as we look with “joyful hope to the coming of our Savior Jesus Christ.” Worship anticipates the coming of the Son of man who will come as “the lightning from the east” (Mal 4:1-2; Mt. 24:27).

5.Facing the same direction has been the practice of the Church since ancient times and is still the norm in eastern rite churches. As then Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger wrote in Spirit of the Liturgy, “Despite all the variations in practice that have taken place far into the second millennium, one thing has remained clear: for the whole of Christendom: praying toward the east is a tradition that goes back to the beginning.”

As catechists we should understand the symbolism that underlies the ancient tradition, appreciate its value and be able to explain it clearly and sympathetically.

The reordering of the liturgical posture following Vatican II (which was never mandated by the Council, by the way) introduced a new idea about the Mass that didn’t exist before 1965: that of a communal meal. The notion that the Eucharist is meant to replicate the Last Supper where the disciples sat around a common table has no basis in history, according to Louis Boyer. “In no meal of the early Christian era,” he says, “did the president of the banqueting assembly ever face the other participants. They were all sitting, or reclining, on the convex side of a C-shaped table. The other side was left empty for service. The communal character of a meal was emphasized just by the opposite disposition: all the participants were on the same side of the table.” (Spirit of the Liturgy p. 78; my emphasis).

Let me be clear, I am not advocating nor even suggesting that priests change where they stand when they celebrate the Eucharist. The norm is versus populum and will likely stay that way. I am saying, however, that as catechists we should understand the symbolism that underlies the ancient tradition, appreciate its value and be able to explain it clearly and sympathetically. For even if the priest and the people “face each other” during the Eucharist, the fundamental orientation is not toward each other, but toward God. “Liturgy,” Pope Benedict XVI said, “implies a real relationship with Another, who reveals himself to us and gives our existence a new direction.” The Mass is intended to orient us to what lies ahead and above. “Lift up your hearts” the celebrant exhorts us, and we respond, “We lift them up to the Lord.” If there is any direction suggested by versus populum it is not at each other, but up to God.

Announcing the Gospel

2009-10-06T14:05:00.007-06:00

I've never had an original thought in my life. The name of our blog is no exception. The title comes from Pope Paul VI's apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, which usually goes by the title "On Evangelization in the Modern World." Literally translated it means "To proclaim the Gospel."

The title comes from the first sentence which says,

"There is no doubt that the effort to proclaim the Gospel to the people of today, who buoyed up by hope but at the same time often oppressed by fear and distress, is a service rendered to the Christian community and also to the whole of humanity."

The purpose of this blog is to help you share your faith with others from the heart of the Catholic Church - to announce the Gospel. We are totally dedicated to the Magisterium, the official teaching office of the Church consisting of the Pope and the bishops in communion with him.

Most practicing Catholics would like to share their faith, but don't know how. Perhaps you have found yourself in a situation where your beliefs were questioned or maybe even attacked. You felt called to defend the faith, but didn't want to be defensive and so you kept your mouth shut. But we don't do anyone any favors by being quiet. As Paul VI said, sharing the gospel is a service to others, especially those "oppressed by fear and distress." We owe it to others to 'announce the gospel.' Sharing our faith is an act of love.

"Gospel" means "good news." And what is the "good news" that people need to hear? Simply this: God is love. One reason, I suppose, that Catholics are reluctant to share their faith is because they think people know at least this much. But do they? I think not. I think many people believe that the Gospel and the Church are oppressive.

Pope Benedict XVI understands that the gospel is not well known and so needs to be announced, clearly and simply. That's why his very first encyclical - God is Love - was written. A Pope's first encyclical is usally regarded as the foundational statement of his pontificate. It's his 'magna carta,' so to speak, expressing what he considers to be the most important priority for the Church and the world at this time.

"In a world where the name of God is sometimes associated with vengeance or even a duty of hatred and violence, this message is both timely and significant. For this reason, I wish my first Encyclical to speak of the love which God lavishes upon us and which we in turn must share with others."

This is a message that the world desperately needs to hear. It's a message that we as Catholics have a duty to proclaim.

Paul VI wrote Evangelii Nuntiandi in 1975 - ten years after the close of Vatican II whose main objective, he says, was "to make the Church of the twentieth century ever better fitted for proclaiming the Gospel to the people of the twentieth century." That was 35 years ago. We're now well into the twenty-first century and the question is, "Has the Church become 'better fitted' to proclaim the Gospel?" More directly, "Have I become better fitted to proclaim the Gospel?" Have you become better fitted?