Homily - What can we learn from the grief on the death of Elizabeth II?

The Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Dear brother and sisters,

Across the globe, in these past few days, we have seen and heard prayers being raised to Almighty God for a monarch who reigned for more than seventy years (cf. I Timothy 2:1-2). It has been a striking spectacle to witness, and one many have found deeply – and surprisingly - moving. What are we to make of what we have seen and of what we have heard?

We must first consider what it is that we have seen. Thousands of men, women, and children have queued for hours – some as many as twenty-four – to walk by the bodily remains of a woman they cannot see. They have willingly – and even gratefully - gone without food and drink, without sitting or lying down, and even without the use of a restroom simply to spend perhaps fifteen second walking past a coffin draped with a flag.

 

Photo: Associated Press/Mike Moore

Pausing before the body of Her Majesty Elizabeth II, men bowed their heads with deep regard and admiration one final time to the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and numerous other realms and territories. Women made a polite and respectful curtsy. Children imitated their appreciative parents. Veterans, and those still in service, offered one final, tearful salute.

Each of these were expected gestures from those who loved their sovereign who dedicated what proved to be here long life to their service, but what is surprising is the great number of people queuing up for so many hours.

Second, we ought to consider what we have heard. Many commentators and pundits have noted the tremendous outpouring of gratitude, but what they have not spoken of is what is most important of what we have heard: nothing. As thousands of people made their way through Westminster Hall, aside from the rap of a staff and the tap of military shoes at the changing of the guard, all we have heard is the wordless moving of the masses.

In the midst of that austere silence, how many men, women, and children have we witnessed make the Sign of the Cross as they offered a quiet prayer for the peaceful repose of the one known to God as Elizabeth Alexandra Mary? The percentage of those who offered such a public and quiet demonstration of their faith is staggering, given that the United Kingdom is reportedly – and by most metrics is – almost entirely secular and devoid of religious devotion and intention. And yet, in the midst of their communal grief, these simple rituals – the bowing, curtsying, saluting, and signing, all of them religious in origin and in content – serve to help people mourn the loss of one they looked to as the grandmother of the nation. What are we to learn from this? We can come to a deeper understanding of the importance of ritual in human life. There is something to be said for expressing profound and heartfelt emotion – whether joyful or mournful - not in loud, flashy, and attention-seeking ways, but in the expansive richness of subtle and unassuming rituals.

Photo: Getty Images

And yet, there are those who wish to do away with such rituals, particularly religious ones, even in the face of the obvious good they hold for countless people. Of this desire, Queen Elizabeth II said in her Christmas Broadcast in 1957:

The trouble is caused by unthinking people who carelessly throw away ageless ideals as if they were old and outworn machinery. They would have religion thrown aside, morality in personal and public life made meaningless, honesty counted as foolishness and self-interest set up in place of self-restraint.[1]

If such intimate ceremonies of honesty and self-restraint are able to convey and express the varying emotions of an entire people at the death of their queen, how much more are self-restraining rituals able to express the varying emotions of the People of God and instill within them ageless moral ideals?

There are those who want the liturgical rites of the Church to be imbued with more externally emotional expressions because they think doing so will draw more people into the Church, even against the evidence to the contrary. They even – sadly – abandon the Church in search of communities where such emotional highs can be sought. 

What they are really seeking is not the worship that God asks of his people – he gave us a ritual to follow at the Last Supper and entrusted it to his Apostles and their successors – but something more akin to entertainment and self-fulfillment. Faith, though, is not primarily concerned with emotions, entertainment, or even the self; rather, faith is concerned with an adherence to the Truth, to Jesus Christ.

Human emotions come and go. As such, our emotions are not always reliable. We misjudge them and misinterpret them. They frequently mislead us and cause up to jump to false conclusions. Moreover, emotions are concerned with, and are primarily focused upon, the human person, upon me as an individual; however, “worship in spirit and truth” is not concerned with humanity, with you or with me, but with God (John 4:24). The Mass is not about us, but about God, and about what God wishes to do for us, namely, to divinize us and conform us to the heart of his Son. 

There is a quiet wisdom to be found in the sober ceremonies with which the members of the Body of Christ draw near to Christ the “one mediator between God and man” (I Timothy 2:5). Effective rituals are unchanging both by nature and by design because they allow us to enter into the mystery more fully; they do not require constant work on our part, always trying to figure out what we are to do next, but rather allow us to be subsumed into the ritual action. In the liturgy, “it is not we who are celebrating for ourselves, but it is the living God himself who is preparing a banquet for us.”[2] The consistent quality of the liturgy helps to be fed by the Lord, to be open to his words and nourished with himself.

To learn this wisdom the liturgy offers to us, we must set aside the exuberance of so much of modern society, an exuberance that pretends at happiness, but is really quite empty of authentic joy. Whether those of the Mass, or of baptism, confirmation, confession, marriage, ordination, or, indeed, even of a funeral, the simplicity of the Church’s ceremonies allows each person to enter the sincere worship of God. It does not matter if an individual worshiper is feeling particularly melancholic or exceptionally giddy; each one, and everyone in between, can be united in the presence of the self-giving and self-impoverishing love of God and be taken up together into this love unlike any other (cf. II Corinthians 8:9).[3] Indeed,

The Christian liturgy is the worship of the universal temple which is the Risen Christ, whose arms are outstretched on the Cross to draw everyone into the embrace of God’s eternal love… It is important that every Christian feel and be truly integrated into this universal “we” which provides the “I”, the basis and refuge of the “I”, in the Body of Christ which is the Church.[4]

This, after all, is the very goal of the Christian life, to be integrated into Jesus Christ and share in the divine life of the Trinity.

Let us, then, not desire to conform the liturgy and rituals of the Church to ourselves, but to conform ourselves to the liturgy and rituals of the Church, to lose ourselves in them, so that, living in “all devotion and dignity,” we may perfect union with Christ and know in him the fullness of everlasting joy (I Timothy 2:2). Amen.

---

[1] Queen Elizabeth II, Christmas Broadcast, 1957.

[2] Pope Benedict XVI, Homily, 21 August 2005.

[3] @discerninganew, response on Twitter to Father Daren Zehnle on 16 September 2022.

[4] Pope Benedict XVI, General Audience Address, 3 October 2012.

On blessings during the Communion procession

Last week, the Catholic Times published an article I wrote in which I asked, "Should blessings be given during the Communion procession?" The text of the article follows:

It often happens that persons present themselves, or are presented by others, to receive a blessing at the time others approach to receive holy Communion. While the beginning of this practice is a bit hard to pin down, it seems to have begun in the United States in the late 1980s or early 1990s out of a desire to help those who cannot receive holy Communion for one reason or another feel included.  

To be sure, inclusion is often a noble concern and Jesus came to gather the nations into the peace of his kingdom, but such a practice often neglects to reveal an important aspect of his kingdom: Everyone is welcome in this kingdom and all are called to receive the Eucharist if certain prerequisites are met. The requirements are neither burdensome nor unreasonable: a person must have received the grace of baptism, attained the use of reason sufficient to distinguish the Body and Blood of the Lord from ordinary bread and wine, and strive to live a life according to Christian morals and make use of sacramental confession to maintain communion with the church. 

Some months ago, Bishop Thomas John Paprocki wrote to the priests and deacons serving in the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois to explain his practice when someone approaches him for a blessing in the procession reserved for those who will receive holy Communion: 

“I do not give any blessings during the time for Holy Communion. Everyone at Mass receives a liturgical blessing from the celebrant at the conclusion of the Mass, just a few moments after the distribution of Holy Communion and immediately before the dismissal. I do not touch anyone, pat them on the head, or make a sign of the cross on their forehead or over their forehead. I make no gesture at all toward them with my hand. If someone above the age of reason approaches me in the Communion with their arms folded indicating that they do not actually wish to receive Holy Communion, I invite them to make a spiritual communion by saying, “Receive Christ spiritually in your heart.” As I say this, I bow my head slightly toward the person while I hold the Host in my hand for the next person who wishes to receive. I do nothing with babies or children being held in the arms of an adult, since a child below the age of reason presumably would not understand the concept of spiritual communion. I do happily and readily give individual blessings to babies, children and anyone else who so wishes after the recessional as I shake hands and greet people as they exit church.”

In the same communication, Bishop Paprocki expressed his desire that “the ordinary and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion in our diocese would emulate my personal pastoral practice.”

The Holy See has been studying this issue for several years now and, while no decision has been made regarding this practice, several principles ought to be borne in mind. 

First, each liturgical procession has a purpose. The procession at the beginning of the holy Mass moves the celebrant and the ministers from the sacristy or from the door of the church to their places in the sanctuary and it is not envisioned that others take part in this procession. The procession during the Gospel acclamation moves the one proclaiming the Gospel, together with the servers and the Book of the Gospels to the ambo. Here, again, it is not envisioned that others take part in this procession. In a similar manner, the Communion procession moves the communicants from their places in the nave of the church to the steps of the sanctuary. Again, it is not envisioned that others take part in the procession.

Certainly no one would suggest that infants or young children be left on their own in the pews; parents or those watching them bring them forward because it would be unwise to leave them behind. Young children were carried or walked in the Communion procession for centuries and, to my knowledge, no child felt left out or neglected because a blessing was not given. I remember frequently accompanying my great aunt in the Communion procession and the fact that I could not yet receive holy Communion deepened a desire within me to receive the holy Eucharist. 

 A second observation pertains to blessings given by extraordinary ministers of holy Communion, those who have been deputed to assist the priests and deacons in moments of necessity. The Book of Blessings reminds us that the lay faithful, in virtue of their respective office in the church, such as parents to their children, may impart blessings, but they are not to do so while a priest or deacon is present. The reason for this is simple: priests and deacons are ordained to minister in the name of the church and in the person of Christ. Consequently, an extraordinary minister of holy Communion should not give a blessing to anyone in the Communion procession because there is always a priest present at that moment.

This leads us to a third consideration to keep, a consideration seen during periods of exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. When the Eucharistic Host is placed in the monstrance for the faithful to adore, a priest does not give blessings in the church because he is in the presence of one who is greater than himself. During Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, the priest or deacon wears a humeral veil in which he enfolds his hands as he holds the monstrance to show the blessing does not come from him, but from Christ. In the same way, it would be inappropriate for a sacred minister to give blessings while he holds the Eucharist in his hands as communicants come forward to receive the Lord. 

Each of these reasons helps to explain Bishop Paprocki’s practice, a practice that is in harmony with the current liturgical norms and the tradition of the church. It is good to invite those who cannot receive holy Communion to ask the Lord for the grace of a spiritual Communion by which they seek to draw closer to him. As their hearts yearn to receive him, let us pray they will be led to request full communion with his church and so receive the Eucharistic Lord himself.

I am happy to engage in an actual dialogue discussing what I am written. I am not, however, interested in engaging with comments which do not discuss what I actually wrote.

UPDATED: Even Catholic headlines are misleading about the washing of feet

The Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments released today a decree signed on 6 January 2016 by His Eminence Robert Cardinal Sarah, Prefect of the same Congregation, revising the text of the rubrics of the Roman Missal regarding whose feet may be washed during the Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday. Why it took two weeks to make the decree public is anyone's good guess.

The text of the earlier rubric clearly stated that the feet of viri selecti, which can only be translated as "select men," could be washed. It should be noted that the washing of feet was - and remains - optional; it is not required. Many - at least in the United States of America - took offense to this rubric and violated it each year by washing the feet of women, boys, and (rarely) girls.

The revised text of the rubric now states that the feet of qui selecti sunt, which can be translated as "those chosen," may be washed. Those chosen are to come from the populo Dei, from "the people of God," that is, from among those who have received the grace of Baptism. As the Code of Canon Law states: "Christ's faithful are those who, since they are incorporated into Christ through baptism, are constituted the people of God" (canon 204 § 1).

The decree goes on to say that those chosen may be selected from the following groups within the people of God: "men and women, and conveniently from young and old, healthy and ill, clerics, consecrated [men and women], laity." But you might never know this from the headlines in the Catholic media.

The headline from Crux declares, "Francis changes the rules: Women can have their feet washed on Holy Thursday." What about boys and girls?

The Catholic Herald says, "Pope Francis opens Holy Thursday foot-washing rite to women." What about boys and girls?

The National Catholic Reporter's headline reads, "Pope's decree opens Holy Thursday foot washings to women and girls." What about boys? What is more, it is not a decree from Pope Francis, but from the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments.

America Magazine declares by way of its headline, "Pope Francis opens foot-washing rite to women in gesture of inclusion." What about the inclusion of boys and girls?

[UPDATE: The headline of the Catholic News Agency says, "Women may now have their feet washed at Holy Thursday Mass, Pope says, and that of Zenit says, "Pope decrees that Holy Thursday foot washing ceremony can include women." What about boys and girls? Zenit's lede goes a bid further, saying, "Those chosen should represent the entire people of God: Young and old, healthy and sick," but that simply isn't true. The decree says that those chosen can come from these goups, but it does not say they must or should come from them.]

However, there is one headline that gets it right, that of the National Catholic Register: "Pope changes rules for washing of feet on Holy Thursday."

[UPDATE: The headline of the Catholic News Service also gets it when it says, "Foot-washing ritual not limited to men, Vatican says in new decree." It should not be a surprise that the headline from News.va correctly says "the Pope decrees that not only men may be chosen for the washing of the feet in the Liturgy of Holy Thursday, as does Vatican Radio when it says, "Pope changes Holy Thursday decree to include all people of God."]

The change the Holy Father directed be made to the rubric affects more than just women; it also affects boys and girls. Headline writers would do well to recognize this and reflect it, so as not to mislead the faithful.

Remember: You cannot put too much trust in the media, not even in the Catholic media.

Can an infant receive baptism during the Lenten season?

Earlier today I received a question asking, "Is it a common or even legit thing to not do (infant) baptisms during Lent?"

The short answer to the first question is, "It depends on the parish." The short answer to the second question is, "No."

It seems to have become rather commonplace in the last couple of decades for most parishes not to baptize babies during the season of Lent but to wait until the Easter season. Is this practice legitimate?

Let us first consult the Rite of Baptism for Children. There we find these guidelines that must be borne in mind when considering the time of the baptism of the newborn:

As for the time of baptism, the first consideration is [1] the welfare of the child, that it may not be deprived of the benefit of the sacrament; then [2] the health of the mother must be considered, so that, if at all possible, she too may be present. Then as long as they do not interfere with the greater good of the child, [3] there are pastoral considerations, such as allowing sufficient time to prepare the parents and to plan the actual celebration in order to bring out its character effectively (8).

First of all, then, we consider the health of the child. Is his life in danger, thereby requiring an immediate baptism? The Rite of Baptism for Children clearly states that “if the child is in danger of death, it is to be baptized without delay; this is permitted even when the parents are opposed and even when the infant is the child of non-Catholic parents” (8.1). This is a clear reminder that baptism is necessary for salvation (cf. John 3:5; cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1257-1261).

If the child is not in danger of death we must next look to the health of the mother. Certainly it would be most preferable for the mother to be present at the baptism of her child, but this is, strictly speaking, not necessary, particularly in cases where the infant is in danger of death.

However, if the health of the mother suggests a later baptism, it is permissible to delay the baptism on the newborn - so long as the infant is healthy - until the mother's health improves sufficiently for her to attend the baptism. Presumably, this would be a matter of a few days or weeks rather than months.

The pastoral considerations can hardly be such as to take more than a few days to consider. Baptisms are done on a frequent enough basis that acquiring the necessary items (baptismal candle, white garment, etc.) should not take more than a few minutes, at most (unless they should need to be ordered, and then only a few days). Other factors to consider, such as music for a baptism outside of Mass, which, sadly seems rarely to be present, surely shouldn’t take more than a few hours. All in all, by the time an organist can be contacted and a cantor secured, surely not more than a day or two will have passed.

It might be argued that a parish only has a "Baptism class" only once a month or maybe even only quarterly. Even so, this is not a sufficient reason to delay the Baptism because the parents can be properly prepared outside of the formal class.

What, then, is to be done if the child is born quite healthy and the arrangements are made? How long must one wait? The answer is simple: “An infant should be baptized within the first few weeks after birth” (RBC, 8.3, emphasis mine). This requirement is also stated in the Code of Canon Law:

Parents are obliged to take care that infants are baptized in the first few weeks; as soon as possible after the birth or even before it, they are to go to the pastor to request the sacrament for their child and to be prepared properly for it (can. 867 § 1).

Just how many weeks constitute the “first weeks after birth” is not set forth in liturgical law, but the above considerations seem to imply a rather short amount of time.

Here we might well note that even though baptism is not to be delayed, if there is no “well-founded hope that the infant will be brought up in the Catholic religion, the baptism is to be delayed” and the parents “are to be informed of the reasons” (RBC, 8.3; cf. can. 868 § 1, 2º).

We might also note that the most appropriate time for the celebration of baptism - particularly the baptism of adults - is “during the Easter Vigil or on Sunday, when the Church commemorates the Lord’s resurrection” (RBC, 9). This is, most likely, the reason why so many parishes do not baptize infants during Lent. It is an attempt, probably a mostly unnoticed and unrealized one, to highlight the baptismal character of the season of Easter.

It is also more than likely an attempt to highlight the penitential character of Lent. I would suggest, however, that witnessing a baptism during Lent would do much to highlight the penitential character by recalling to those present the necessity of conversion and repentance in the Christian life demanded by virtue of our baptism. It should be remembered that the Lenten season “disposes … the faithful to celebrate the paschal mystery … through reminders of their own baptism and through penitential practices” (General Norms for the Liturgical Year and the Calendar, 27). What better reminder of baptism can there be than a baptism?

But even if Easter is the most appropriate time for baptism, there is nothing forbidding baptism during Lent in the liturgical books or in the Code of Canon Law. The canons specify that baptism "can be celebrated on any day," though "it is nevertheless recommended that it be celebrated ordinarily on Sunday or, if possible, at the Easter Vigil” (can. 856). There you have it, then: baptism may be celebrated on any day, even during Lent. However, “it is not fitting that Baptisms and Confirmation be celebrated” during Holy Week (Paschale Solemnitatis, 27). Even so, baptism is not strictly forbidden during Holy Week (because of a possible danger of death), though the proximity of these days to Holy Saturday would seem an obvious reason to withhold baptism until the Easter feast whenever possible.


Most parishes that do not allow baptisms during Lent also do not allow marriages during Lent. And, while there is nothing about such a practice in the liturgical books for baptism, there is something concerning Lent in the Rite of Marriage, though it does not absolutely forbid marriages during Lent. What we find is this: “When a marriage is celebrated during Advent or Lent or other days of penance, the parish priest should advise the couple to take into consideration the special nature of these times” (11).

This is a veiled way of saying no flowers and little music (unless it happens to be Gaudete or Laetare Sunday), and much simplicity; nothing too fancy. But even here there is nothing forbidding marriage during Lent.

Clergy who refuse to baptize children during the season of Lent should remember that "sacred ministers cannot deny the sacraments to those who seek them at appropriate times, are properly disposed, and are not prohibited from receiving them" (can. 843 § 1). What is more, these same ministers "have the duty to take care that those who seek the sacraments are prepared to receive them by proper evangelization and catechetical instruction, attentive to the norms issued by competent authority," the very norms discussed above (can. 843 § 2).

Should photos be taken during the Liturgy?

Living as I do now in a tourist city, certain aspects and habits of tourists are becoming ever more clear to me, aspects and habits I think are quite foolish and even harmful.

Among these is the desire of a tourist to take a picture of someone or of something. So intent are they on taking the picture, that they very often do not actually experience the culture they are in or take in what it is at which they are looking. Too often, tourists do not enter into the experience, but simply hop along from one picture to the next, content to try to enter into their photos later on (which isn't really possible).

Sadly, there seems to be a similar mindset among those who come to the Holy Mass or the celebration of another Sacrament: they want a picture, but they never enter in to the sacred moment. I see this here in the Eternal City and wherever I celebrate the sacred mysteries.

On this topic, Monsignor Charles Pope has a helpful post in which he considers the obsession for photos at liturgies. He says, in part (emphases his),

Pastorally it would seem appropriate to accept that photos are important to people to make reasonable accommodations for photos. For major events  such as weddings, confirmations, First Communions and Easter Vigils, it seems right that we should insist that if photos are desired, a professional be hired. This will help keep things discrete, and permit family and others to more prayerfully experience the sacred moments. Infant Baptisms are a little more “homespun” and it would seem that the pastor should speak with family members about limiting the number of amateur photographers, and be clear about where they should stand.

That said, I have no photos of my Baptism, First Communion or Confirmation. I have survived this (terrible) lack of “the shot” quite well. Frankly, in the days I received these sacraments, photos of the individual moment were simply not done in the parishes I attended. Some parishes did have provisions for pictures in those days. The photo at upper right is of Cardinal O’Boyle at St. Cyprian’s in Washington DC in 1957. But as for me, I do have a photo of me taken on my way to Church for First Communion, but there is no photo of me kneeling at the rail. I am alive and well. There are surely photos of my ordination. But I will add, the Basilica and the Archdiocese were very clear as to the parameters. Only two professional photographers were allowed, (My Uncle was one of them them) and the place where they worked was carefully delineated.

Hence, pastoral provisions are likely necessary in these “visual times”  which allow some photos. Yet as St. Paul says regarding the Liturgy: But let all things be done decently, and according to order (1 Cor 14:40).

Be sure to read the entire piece.

The ars celebrandi, Marini style

More often than not, the work of the Master of Ceremonies goes largely unnoticed, and this is as it should be.  The Master of Ceremonies should really simply blend into the background, as it were.  His task is to be the unseen guiding hand of those involved in the liturgical celebration.

Even so, every now and again a Master of Ceremonies may have a particular moment to shine, as in the recent case of Monsignor Guido Marini, the Master of Pontifical Liturgical Celebrations.  You've likely seen his face before, even if you did not take any notice of him or know his name.

I've often looked to his example in my work as Priest Secretary and Master of Ceremonies to the Bishop.  I must say: I am particularly impressed with his reaction to a ligurgical mishap that took place last Saturday in the Basilica of Saint Peter in Rome when the Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI celebrated Mass for the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord:

Precisely what happened, I cannot quite make out.  It seems to me, though, that upon reaching the altar Pope Benedict XVI, for one reason or another, let go of the pastoral staff.  Thankfully, Msgr. Marini has a quick eye and swift reflexes.

What most impresses me about the entire situation is not so much that Msgr. Marini was able to save the staff from banging to the ground, but that he handed it back to the Holy Father as though nothing at all had ocurred.  Indeed, the Pope seems to take no notice whatever.

Whenever something goes wrongly in a liturgical celebration, the Master of Ceremonies should never overreact.  Rather, he should remain calm - at least externally - and draw as little attention to the situation as possible.  He should move in such a way as to quietly make up for whatever has gone poorly.  Everything should be done with an eye to the ars celebrandi, to the art of celebrating.

Thank you, Msgr. Marini, for a job very well done indeed!

Should the priest "turn his back to the people" or to the Lord?

A Minor Friar recently noticed what others haven't quite yet picked up on:

Like many of the churches and chapels where I say Mass these days, a free-standing altar is set up in front of a tabernacle set centrally in the sanctuary. Thus, in order to offer the Mass versus populum, the priest must place himself in between the altar and the tabernacle. All of a sudden, even though I have offered Mass this way hundreds of times, from the Mass of my priestly ordination on Our Lady's birthday in 2007 down to today, I felt uncomfortable to find myself with my back to the Blessed Sacrament.

When the Mass is celebrated ad orientem, that is, to the East (even if only liturgically speaking), the priest and the people all face the same direction.  It is a profound sign of unity.  Some, though, do not like this and are offended that the priest would "turn his back to the people," as they incorrectly say.

A Minor Friar asks:

But isn't it more troubling for the priest to turn his back on the Presence of Christ in the tabernacle?

Archbishop Nichols: The Liturgy should not be a point of contention

On June 7th His Excellency the Most Reverend Vincent Nichols, Archbishiop of Westminster, preached an excellent homily on the priesthood and the celebration of the Mass in which he reminded his priests that they are servants of the Liturgy and not its masters.

The text of his homily follows, via Zenit, with my emphases:

The Gospel of our Mass today takes us into the heart of the relationship of Father and Son. This is the wonder of our calling, the wonder of the mystery we minister: that we human beings are welcomed into the intimacy and love of Father and Son, which is the life of the Holy Spirit.


This mystery we enter most powerfully through our celebration of the Mass. Here all is the gift of the Father. Here all is to the glory of the Father and the Son. Here is our sharing in that glory, conscious that it is expressed in and through the self-sacrificing love of the cross.

In the light and depth of this great mystery I would like to reflect on our priestly part in the celebration of the Mass. I want to do so with a directness and immediacy for, when it comes to Liturgy, we are living in a sensitive and creative time. This is a time in which the Church is asking us to recover some of the richness and depth of our liturgical heritage and, at the same time, always to ensure that the Liturgy is the sign and good at that. Among us priests Liturgy easily becomes a point of contention. It should not be so.

Today we use the text of the new English translation. It symbolises so much. We are sharply aware of the newness of the words we are using. We need to concentrate on them. We need a fresh approach in contrast to long-formed habits and familiarity.

I would like to reflect on our part in all this and offer you my convictions. Thereby I hope I might help to shape your responses. I can but try.

There are four key points that shape my reflection, all in the context of the Gospel truth we have heard. They are, fundamentally, matters of the heart, of our disposition. As such they can shape what we do. We do well to examine what lies in our hearts.

1. My first conviction is this: Liturgy is never my own possession, or my creation. It is something we are given, from the Father. Therefore my own tastes, my own preferences, my own personality, my own view of ecclesiology, are marginal, of little importance, when it comes to the celebration of the Mass. We don vestments to minimise our personal preferences, not to express or emphasise them. Liturgy is not ours. It is never to be used as a form of self-expression. Indeed the opposite is the truth. Within the diocese, when the priests of a parish change there should be clear continuity in the manner in which Mass is celebrated. The Mass is the action of the Church. That’s what matters, not my opinion. I once heard that Blessed Pope John Paul never commented on a Mass he had celebrated. It’s the Mass. My task is to be faithful.

2. My second point flows from this: the Liturgy forms us, not us the Liturgy. The words of the Mass form our faith and our prayer. They are better than my spontaneous creativity. At Mass my place is very clear: I am an instrument in the hand of the Lord. I am not a conductor, still less a composer. Ordained into the person of Christ the Head, I am just an instrumental cause of this great mystery. This is so important. My celebration of the Mass each morning shapes my heart for the day ahead. At Mass I am the Lord’s instrument just as I hope to be in the day that follows. In all the events of the day, in the decisions I make, the words I speak, my greatest, safest hope is that the Lord will use me and that I, personally, will not get in His way. We are servants of the Liturgy through which God opens to us His saving life.

3. My third conviction is this: our part is to offer the Mass as a service to the people. In doing so we make choices and judgements about how aspects of the Mass are to be done. In doing this we must always have upper most in our minds that the heart of Liturgy is the people’s encounter with the Lord. Everything about the Liturgy is to serve this purpose. So in the choices we make, which give a particular tone to the Liturgy, our positive criterion should be: will this serve the encounter of the people with the Lord? Of course, things old and new can serve. Our choices though are shaped both by the instruction of the Church in its norms and guidance and by our duty to serve our people.

It seems to me that one thing above all is needed for this precious, transforming encounter with the Lord to take place in: space, space which allows for the movement of the heart to the Lord and of Him to us. At Mass we need space – spaces of silence, spaces for the quiet recollection of the people, both before and during Mass. So, the fashion of our celebration of the Mass should never be dominating or overpowering of those taking part. It should be well judged, respectful of its congregation, sensitive to their spiritual needs.

In my view one quality enhances this sense of divinely filled space in which we worship God: it is the beauty of the Liturgy and its reverence. A beautiful, cared for church is the best preparation we can provide. I was recently reminded of the words of Cardinal Hume: that our churches are not simply buildings in which we worship the Lord, but buildings with which we worship Him. I thank you for all your efforts in this important regard. The church as an arena of beauty for the Lord is, it seems to me, always a springboard of a vibrant parish.

4. My fourth and final point follows: whenever the Liturgy of the Church, the celebration of the Mass, truly enters our heart and soul, then the result is a vibrant sense of mission. When we meet the Lord in all His love for us, then we are ready to respond, especially in the care we give to the poorest and those most in need, those closest to the Heart of our Saviour. Our Diocesan ‘Conversation in Caritas’, about the social outreach of our parishes, has a Eucharistic centre. I thank you for your participation in it. A profound celebration of the Mass inexorably gives rise to a practical expression of compassion and willing service. It just is so.

My brothers, I am conscious of the length of these words and their strained character as a homily. But these are important matters, now, in the months ahead, in our hearts.

In the Mass all that we receive is a gift of the Father. It is never ours to use or shape as we please. In the Mass all is to the glory of the Son. In this we are no more than instruments, humble and delighted to play our part. In the Mass all is for the sake of our people: that they may encounter the one true God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent. In the Mass we who know Him also know that we are in this world to serve its humanity in His name, until He comes again. These are the hallmarks of our Liturgy, the measures against which we can test our hearts, our intentions and our actions.


Among us let there be a humble, joyful service of the Lord. Let us accept with joy the search for a renewal in our celebration of the Mass guided solely by the Church and let our own faith and prayer be tutored daily by what is asked of us. Amen.