Liturgically Speaking: The Universal Prayers and the Offertory

After professing the Creed, we then offer the Universal Prayers, sometimes referred to as the Prayers of the Faithful or the petitions.  We pray for the Church and her leaders, the world, the sick and suffering, local needs, and we pray for the dead.  As we offer these prayers together for our needs, we are exercising our baptismal priesthood.  These prayers conclude the Liturgy of the Word, and we move into the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

           

The Liturgy of the Eucharist begins with the preparation of the altar and presentation of the gifts.  The corporal, missal, purificator, and chalice are brought to the altar.  In the second century, St. Justin Martyr told us simply that “bread, water, and wine are brought.”  Early on, there was no particular ritual for bringing up such gifts.  It was important for early Christians to distinguish themselves from pagan religions, and they did not want the emphasis placed on the pre-consecrated bread as if that were the victim of the sacrifice.  Later, however, the Church had to defend the goodness of material creation against Gnostic heretics who held matter to be evil.  So there arose the practice of bringing forward the bread, wine, and other foods, flowers, and gifts for the poor.  The deacons would separate out what was used for the Mass.  This practice of bringing up various food items ceased in the middle ages, though this is still the customary time to take a collection for the poor or the parish’s needs.

 

 Whereas the faithful used to bring bread for the Mass from home, this participation in the offering is still symbolized when members of the congregation bring forward the bread and wine.  We can participate further in this Offertory by offering ourselves – our lives - interiorly along with the gifts being brought up.  We might pray in words such as these: “Father I offer to you all the work I have done, all the evils I have endured, in union with this sacrifice of the Mass, offered upon the altar of the cross, in atonement for my sins and those of the whole world.”

The priest offers a blessing to God for the bread: “Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation…”  These words have deep roots in the Jewish liturgies as well as echoing the words of King Melchisedech when he offered bread and wine: “Blessed be Abram by God most High, creator of Heaven and Earth, and blessed be God most High for handing over your enemies to you” (Gen 14:18-20).  Ordinary bread was used until about the ninth century when unleavened bread became customary in the Western Church to reflect the use of unleavened bread at the Last Supper. 

After this, the priest places a few drops of water in the wine and prays: “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.”  These words echo St. Peter’s Second Letter: “Through these, he has bestowed on us the precious and very great promises, so that through them you may come to share in the divine nature, after escaping from the corruption that is in the world because of evil desire” (2 Pet 1:4-5).  They also recall the words of Paul to the Philippians: “Christ, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.  Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness…” (Phil 2:6-7).  This is the marvelous exchange for which Christ came, and that is carried out in the liturgy: God became man so that man might share in the divine life of God.  A blessing is said also over the wine, to which we respond “Blessed be God forever.” 

A prayer taken from the three young men thrown in the fiery furnace in Daniel 3:39-40 is prayed quietly by the priest: “With humble spirit and contrite heart may we be accepted by you, O Lord, and may our sacrifice in your sight this day be pleasing to you, Lord God.”  Here the gifts and the altar may be incensed. 

The act of the priest washing his hands arose out of practical necessity.  He was dirty and was about to handle the bread that was to become the body of Christ.  Now known as the Lavabo, it symbolizes an interior purification from sin and guilt.  He prays: “Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.”

Liturgically Speaking: The Creed

After the homily, we pray together the Nicene Creed, a pithy summary of what we believe as Catholics which was developed through the fourth century.  In the early fourth century, a priest named Arius (250-336) denied that Christ was truly divine.  Named after its founder, Arianism taught that while Christ was greater than a mere human, he was nonetheless a created being.  The motto of Arius was “there was a time when he was not.”  He denied that Christ was of the same substance as, or consubstantial with the Father.  For Arius, there was a sharp distinction between what the Father is: God; and what Christ is: a creature, even if the first and greatest creature.  Recognizing that unity of faith meant unity for the Roman Empire, the Emperor Constantine called a universal council of bishops.  The Council of Nicaea in 325 affirmed that Christ was consubstantial with the Father.  In other words, the Son is God as much as the Father is God.  The Council of Nicaea formulated the beginnings of the Creed we profess at Mass.

In the late fourth century another heretical sect arose which denied the divinity of the Holy Spirit.  The Council of Nicaea in 325 spent most of its effort on confessing the Son as consubstantial with the Father.  Regarding the Spirit, Nicaea simply said, “We believe in the Holy Spirit,” with no further clarification.  This opened the way for those who, while affirming the divinity of the Son, denied that the Spirit was also God in the same sense.  Great church theologians of the time, such as Gregory of Nazianzus and St. Basil, wrote in defense of the full divinity of the Spirit.  In 381, the Council of Constantinople defined the matter by professing:  “We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life, who proceeds from the Father, who together with the Father and Son is worshipped and glorified, who has spoken through the prophets.” 

Hence, our Creed used at Mass is known by its full name as the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, since it was formulated at those two great councils in 325 and 381.  This Creed has been normative in the Church ever since.

The Creed was first used in the Eucharistic liturgy in Antioch and Constantinople.  It then spread to Spain where it was adopted in use right before the Lord’s Prayer as preparation for Communion.  From the earliest days of the Church, before one could participate in the Eucharist, that individual must first profess the shared faith of the Church.  For catechumens, those preparing for baptism, they were dismissed from the Church before the Creed for a period of instruction.  Only after professing the Creed at Baptism were they permitted to participate in the Eucharist for the first time.  The Creed was a way of discouraging heretics from participating in the sacred mysteries.  It passed on to the rest of Western Europe and was placed after the Gospel.  It was adopted in Rome in1014 AD.  So our profession of faith recalls our baptismal faith, and our unity in a shared belief.  And at the words “and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary and became man” we bow out of reverence for the mystery of the Incarnation of the Word.

Liturgically Speaking: The Liturgy of the Word

The reading of sacred texts in the liturgy extends back to the earliest Christians.  Around 160 A.D. St. Justin Martyr tells us that during the Christian liturgy of his time, readings were taken from the prophets as well as the “memoirs of the Apostles.” 

“When the Sacred Scriptures are read in the Church, God himself speaks to his people, and Christ, present in his word, proclaims the Gospel.  Therefore, the readings from the Word of God are to be listened to reverently by everyone, for they are an element of the greatest importance in the Liturgy” (GIRM 29).

In our liturgy today there is a three year cycle of readings for Sundays, and for weekdays a complementary yet independent two year cycle.  The three years of the Sunday cycle tend to each focus on one of the Gospel writers: Matthew, Mark, and Luke; John is spread throughout certain points of the liturgical year in each cycle.  The Liturgy of the Word is structured almost as a kind of dialogue, like a back-and-forth between God and His people.  God comes to meet us by speaking to us His Word, and we in turn lift up our response to God.  In the first reading, God speaks to us, usually in an Old Testament reading.  During the Easter season the first reading is from the Acts of the Apostles.  The first reading is generally chosen to have an organic connection to the Gospel to show forth the unity of the Old and the New Testaments.  For this reason, Old Testament readings may be from various places in the scriptures from week to week.  One helpful way to meditate on the readings is to ask, “Why did the Church couple this first reading with this Gospel?  What is the connection?” 

“After each reading, whoever reads it pronounces the acclamation, and by means of the reply the assembled people give honor to the Word of God that they have received in faith and with gratitude” (GIRM 59). Our response, though, is not simply, “Thanks be to God.”  We also respond with the responsorial psalm.  Often a song of praise, it continues our dialogue with God.  Then we again receive the Word in the second reading, usually from a letter of St. Paul or another New Testament letter.  This tends to be a continual reading of a given letter, so there is often no intended thematic connection with the other readings.  Again, we respond with the Alleluia or other Gospel Acclamation. “An acclamation of this kind constitutes a rite or act in itself, by which the gathering of the faithful welcomes and greets the Lord who is about to speak to them in the Gospel and profess their faith by means of the chant” (GIRM 62).  Alleluia comes from Hebrew and means “praise the Lord.”  The procession of the Book of the Gospels is accompanied with this song of praise. 

Since the Gospel holds a place of prominence because it relates the life of the Savior, we stand out of reverence and as a sign of eager attentiveness.  The priest prays to himself, “Cleanse my heart and my lips, almighty God, that I may worthily proclaim your holy Gospel.”  The book may also be incensed.  We, along with the priest, make the sign of the cross on our forehead, lips, and heart, praying that the Word of God may be in our minds, on our lips, and in our hearts.  After the proclamation of the Gospel, the priest or deacon kisses the book, saying inaudibly, “Through the words of the Gospel may our sins be wiped away.”  

Liturgically Speaking: The Gloria and Collect

After the Penitential Act, the Gloria is sung on Sundays and Solemnities outside of Advent and Lent (the prayer is one of such joyful praise, that we “tone down” this joy in the penitential seasons of the Church by omitting the Gloria).  Notice the spiritual movement of the Mass: after we have humbly confessed that we are sinners and implored God for His mercy, our next prayer is one of praise.  The Gloria is sometimes known as the “Greater Doxology,” “doxology” coming for the Greek word for praise.  The Gloria is a very ancient prayer, originally sung as a morning prayer at the rising of the sun.  It was introduced into the liturgy in ancient times, perhaps the second century.  At first, it was sung first only at Christmas.  This is fitting, since it begins with the words of the angels to the shepherds on the first Christmas morning: “Glory to God in the Highest and on Earth peace to people of good will” (Lk. 2:14).  In the sixth century, Pope Symmachus extended this to all Sunday Masses celebrated by the Bishop, and then by the eleventh century the Gloria was used much as it is now. 

If you’ve never done so before, try using the Gloria as a text for your own private prayer.  This can help the meaning “sink in” when it can be so easy to “rattle it off” week after week.  The Gloria opens with emphatic acclamations of praise to the Father: “We praise You. We bless You. We adore you. We glorify You. We give You thanks for Your great glory. O Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father almighty.”  It’s as if we’re using all these acclamations in search of adequate words with which to give God the praise that is His due.  The Gloria then addresses Christ:  “O Lord Jesus Christ, the Only-begotten Son. O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father: you Who take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. You Who take away the sins of the world, receive our prayer. You Who sit at the right hand of the Father, have mercy on us. For you alone are holy. You alone are the Lord. You alone, O Jesus Christ, are most high.”  This may seem repetitive, but the language of love and poetry often is repetitive!  Here we acclaim Christ for who He is, what He has done, and we implore Him to have mercy on us and hear our prayer.  Finally, the Gloria ends by invoking the Holy Trinity: “Together with the Holy Spirit in the glory of God the Father. Amen.”  If you find yourself distracted during the Gloria, consider it as if it were a love song, and choose one word or phrase to focus on and direct to the Father, Son, or Holy Spirit. 

After the Gloria is the Opening Prayer or Collect.  We have already asked God for His mercy and offered a hymn of praise.  Now, in a summary way, we state our needs.  First, Father says “Let us pray.”  There is a moment of silence, and the intention is that we are actually praying.  At that moment we can offer to God our intention for that Mass or anything else we wish to bring before Him in our prayer.  The Collect “collects” the prayers of the whole community as we prepare to enter into the Liturgy of the Word.  The Collect also often lays before us in summary fashion the mystery we are celebrating at that liturgy.  Most Collects have the same structure:  an invocation calling upon God; grounds, or the reason for our confidence in calling upon Him; a petition; and a conclusion calling upon Christ to mediate on our behalf.  These prayers are some of the most beautiful and rich in the whole Mass.  They are also some of the easiest to miss!  If you have a hard time focusing on the Collect, try reading it ahead of time or getting a small missal book so you can follow along and make the prayer your own.  With our Amen, the Introductory Rite ends, and we begin the Liturgy of the Word.

Liturgically Speaking: The Greeting and the Penitential Act

Still within the Introductory Rites of the Mass, after the sign of the cross, the priest greets the congregation.  Like so much of our Liturgy, the greetings reflect the words of scripture.  For instance, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all” is a quote from the closing words of the Second Letters of St. Paul to the Corinthians (13:14).  “The Lord be with you” is from 2 Thess 3:16.  “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” reflects Phil 1:2, Eph 1:2, Philemon 1:3, and 1 Cor 1:3.  Finally, only a bishop may use the very words of Christ in his greeting: “Peace be with you” (John 20:21).

We respond, “And with your Spirit.”  This greeting also reflects scripture: “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers,” (Gal 6:18) and “The Lord be with your spirit.  Grace be with all of you” (2 Tim 4:22).  The response “and with your spirit” is found in the liturgy from the earliest days of the Church. One of the first instances of its use is found in the Apostolic Tradition of Saint Hippolytus, composed around 215.  It’s also important to note that “Spirit” here doesn’t refer primarily to the priest’s human soul, but to the Spirit of God he received at the sacrament of ordination.  In the fifth century, Narsai of Nisibis wrote, “The name ‘spirit’ [refers] not to the soul of the priest but to the spirit he has received through the laying on of hands.”  St John Chrysostom said, “By this cry [and with your spirit], you are reminded that he who stands at the altar does nothing, and that the gifts that repose there are not the merits of a man; but that the grace of the Holy Spirit is present and, descending on all, accomplishes this mysterious sacrifice. We indeed see a man, but it is God who acts through him. Nothing human takes place at this holy altar.”  Hence, in our response, we assure the priest of the divine assistance of God’s spirit for the priest to use the gifts given to him in ordination to fulfill his priestly and prophetic role in the Church.

Next the Mass moves into the Penitential Act.  It is noteworthy that, as we begin the holy sacrifice of the Mass, our first spiritual posture is one of contrition – sorrow for sin.  This should recall to us the words of Matthew 5:23-24:  “Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift there at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift.”  The Penitential Act is both an admission of our guilt and unworthiness, as well as trust in God’s mercy and his initiative in granting His grace and mercy.  The Penitential Act is not a sacramental confession, and will not forgive mortal sins, for which one needs to receive sacramental confession before receiving communion. 

There are a few different options for the Penitential Act.  The first is the Confiteor.  You’ll recognize this prayer as “I confess to almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters….”  When we speak of our fault, our most grievous fault, we make the gesture of striking our breast.  This is the gesture of the tax collector in Luke 18:13, who Jesus gives as an example of true humble repentance.   St Augustine wrote, “"No sooner have you heard the word 'Confiteor' than you strike your breast. What does this mean except that you wish to bring to light what is concealed in the breast, and by this act to cleanse your hidden sins?"  St Jerome said “We strike our breast because the breast is the seat of evil thoughts: we wish to dispel these thoughts, we wish to purify our hearts."

Another form of the Penitential Act, one not often used, is as follows:  Priest: Have mercy on us, O Lord.  People: For we have sinned against you.  Priest: Show us, O Lord, your mercy.  People: And grant us your salvation.”  This exchange echoes Psalm 41:4 and Psalm 85:7.

Another form, The Kyrie eleison, or “Lord have Mercy” formula is also biblical; we hear it on the lips of the blind men of Jericho (Matt 20:30) and the Canaanite woman (Matt 15:22): “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  The Kyrie is a vestige of what were once long litanies usually accompanying the procession to the altar.  It originated in the East where Greek was spoken, and was brought from Jerusalem to the West by pilgrims.  This is why, even in the Latin Rite Mass, it is still maintained in the original Greek.  Around the eighth century, the number of acclamations was reduced to nine: three to the Father, three to Christ (Christ have mercy), and three to the Holy Spirit.  The reforms of the Second Vatican Council gave us the simple threefold “Lord have mercy; Christ have mercy; Lord have mercy,” with which we are familiar.

Since our worship should be a fully conscious and active participation, at this point in the Mass we should take efforts that our inward prayer and disposition matches the action of the Mass.  When Father invites us to call to mind our sins, we should do just that.  We should consider those things we need to bring to the cross of Christ for mercy, those things we need to have washed in the precious blood of the lamb.  Moreover, as we confess our sinfulness and plead for God’s mercy, we ought to move our hearts to contrition, to sorrow for sin.  The Penitential Act is a spiritual moment in the Mass where we come before the infinitely loving God, recognizing our sinfulness, are really imploring Him for His abundant mercy.

Liturgically Speaking: The Sign of the Cross

Once the priest has processed to the altar and reverenced it, he leads us in the sign of the cross.  The sign of the cross is an incredibly meaningful symbol.  

In the Old Testament, the prophet Ezekiel spoke of God’s faithful being signed with a mysterious mark:

“Then he called to the man dressed in linen with the writer's case at his waist, saying to him: Pass through the city (through Jerusalem) and mark an X on the foreheads of those who moan and groan over all the abominations that are practiced within it.  To the others I heard him say: Pass through the city after him and strike! Do not look on them with pity nor show any mercy!  Old men, youths and maidens, women and children--wipe them out! But do not touch any marked with the X; begin at my sanctuary.” (Ezekiel 9:3-6)

In Ezekiel, this sign marks those who are faithful to God’s law, and serves as a sign for their protection.  In the Greek version of Ezekiel, the “mark” he mentioned is the Greek letter “Tau.”  A Tau looks like a capital “T.”  It was not a far stretch for the early Christians to see in this mysterious sign a foreshadowing of the sign of the Lord’s cross. 

The book of Revelation seems to take on the imagery of Ezekiel, speaking of a “seal” on the foreheads of God’s chosen people, a sign of their election and protection:

“Then I saw another angel come up from the East, holding the seal of the living God. He cried out in a loud voice to the four angels who were given power to damage the land and the sea, "Do not damage the land or the sea or the trees until we put the seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God."  I heard the number of those who had been marked with the seal, one hundred and forty-four thousand marked from every tribe of the Israelites…”(Rev 7:2-4)

The words of the sign of the cross recall to us our baptism.  Before his ascension, Christ commanded his Apostles: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:19-20)  Our baptism is our entrance into the Church and the foundation of our life in the grace of Christ, which allows us to approach Him in the Eucharist.

The words of the sign of the cross also profess our belief in the central mystery of our faith – who God is in His deepest identity.  We proclaim one God in three equal Persons – Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

The sign of the cross also recalls the pinnacle event of God’s love for us and the means of our salvation – the Paschal Mystery – the suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ.  Continually makeing the sign of the Lord’s cross, we echo St. Paul, “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” (1 Cor 2:2)

In the early Church we have positive evidence that the sign of the cross was familiar to Christians in the second century:

"In all our travels and movements, in all our coming in and going out, in putting of our shoes, at the bath, at the table, in lighting our candles, in lying down, in sitting down, whatever employment occupieth us, we mark our foreheads with the sign of the cross". (Tertullian, c. 200AD)

The sign of the cross must soon have passed into a gesture of blessing, as St. Cyril of Jerusalem in his Catechesis (386) describes:

"Let us then not be ashamed to confess the Crucified. Be the cross our seal, made with boldness by our fingers on our brow and in everything; over the bread we eat and the cups we drink, in our comings and in goings; before our sleep, when we lie down and when we awake; when we are travelling, and when we are at rest".

Liturgically Speaking: The Introductory Rites of the Mass

For the last few weeks these posts have focused on different aspects of the liturgy, trying to get a sense of what the liturgy is and how it is a distinct and unique form of prayer.  Now over the next several months, we’ll be focusing on the parts of the Mass, seeking a deeper understanding of the mysteries in which we are participating.

The Mass is divided into two major parts: the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  These describe the two principle means by which we encounter Christ in the Mass: through His word in the Scriptures and through His body and blood in the Eucharist.  In the Mass is spread the table both of God’s Word and of the Body of Christ, from which we are instructed and refreshed.  We also find the Introductory Rites at the beginning of Mass, and the Concluding Rite at the end.

The Introductory Rites are intended to bring us together as one and to prepare us to listen to the Word of God and to worthily celebrate the Eucharist.

Mass begins with the entrance procession.  The procession is not merely a pragmatic means of getting from point “A” to point “B.”  Like so many elements of the liturgy, the entrance procession is pregnant with meaning.  It symbolizes the pilgrim Church, those of us still on our journey, approaching our heavenly homeland.  From the doors of the Church and the fallen world outside, the priest and other ministers process to the sanctuary and the altar, where Heaven meets earth.  This pilgrim journey is emphasized by carrying in procession a Crucifix, symbolizing Christ guiding us safely on our journey.  Each procession can also remind us of the procession we specifically celebrate once a year on Palm Sunday.  It reminds us that Jesus has entered into our presence as he once triumphantly entered into Jerusalem at the beginning of His Passion.

When the priest and deacon reach the sanctuary, they reverence the altar with a kiss.  Why kiss the altar?  The altar is a symbol of Christ. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that “the Christian altar is the symbol of Christ himself, present in the midst of the assembly of his faithful, both as the victim offered for our reconciliation and as food from heaven who is giving himself to us. ‘For what is the altar of Christ if not the image of the Body of Christ?’ asks St. Ambrose” (CCC 1383).  So to kiss the altar is to kiss Christ, and is an image of the Church and Christ, Bride and Bridegroom in the wedding feast of the Lamb.

The kissing of the altar is also an act of veneration of the relics of the saints contained in the altar stone.  In the early Church, Mass was often said at the tombs of the martyrs.  This is the origin of having relics in most altars.  In the traditional Latin Mass, as he kissed the altar, the priest would pray “We beseech You, O Lord, by the merits of Your Saints whose relics lie here, and of all the Saints, deign in your mercy to pardon me all my sins.” 

This action is accompanied by the Entrance Antiphon.  For decades now, most parishes have completely replaced the Entrance Antiphon with various opening hymns.  There is a very real difference here.  While a hymn chosen from a hymnal is singing at Mass, singing the Entrance Antiphon is singing the Mass.  A hymn is something brought from outside the Mass itself to be used within the Mass (and there’s nothing wrong with this; it’s given by the Church as an option).  The Entrance Antiphon, however, is an actual prayer text of the Mass for the day, just like the Collect (opening prayer) or Prayer after Communion.  Besides accompanying the procession, the Entrance Antiphon is meant to open the celebration, foster our unity, and introduce us to the mystery being celebrated in that particular liturgy.  For instance, the Entrance Antiphon for “Laetare Sunday” the 4th Sunday of Lent, is “Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her, all you who love her.  Sing out in exultation…”  If we drop these antiphons completely, we are replacing the very texts the Church is asking us to pray!