“Let us pray.”  These are the words that the priest says immediately following the Gloria (when there is one), inviting the faithful to unite with him as he prays what is Opening Prayer, or more technically called the Collect.

There are a few things worth mentioning as we consider the Collect.  The GIRM (remember, when I use that acronym, I am referring to the General Instruction of the Roman Missal) explains that the Collect is one of the “presidential prayers.”  “These prayers are addressed to God by the Priest who presides over the assembly in the person of Christ, in the name of the entire holy people and of all present.” (GIRM, §30) This is an important point that can sometimes go overlooked.  When the priest is reciting prayers at Mass, more often than not, he is doing so in the name of all who are present.  When we hear the Opening Prayer, we can sometimes zone out and not pay much attention, treating it as though we are listening to Father pray.  It’s as though he is saying: “Listen to me pray.”  No, we unite ourselves with the priest who is praying on our behalf, praying for us and with us to God.  “”Let us pray.”  I will develop this point further when we get to the Eucharistic Prayer, but it is important for us to have that understanding of these prayers in general.

But what is the significance of this prayer?  Two sources are helpful in our understanding this prayer.  First, we can look at what the GIRM says:

Next the Priest calls upon the people to pray and everybody, together with the Priest, observes a brief silence so that they may become aware of being in God’s presence and may call to mind their intentions. Then the Priest pronounces the prayer usually called the “Collect” and through which the character of the celebration finds expression. (GIRM, §54)

Another source I sometime refer to when reflecting on the prayers of the Mass is a little booklet I found online called Explanation of Prayers and Ceremonies of Holy Mass, which is a collection of reflections taken from conferences given by Dom Prosper Guéranger, a former Benedictine Abbot of Solesmes.  Though these reflections were written about the Mass celebrated according to the Missal of 1962, many of the elements still apply very well.  Here is what he says about the Collect, that it is:

the Prayer in which he sums up the desires of the Faithful, and presents them under the form of a petition. The word Collect comes from the Latin colligere, which means to bring together things previously existing apart. The importance of the Collect is great. Hence, holy mother Church urges us to listen to it with all respect and devotion.

What both of these explanations offer is that this is a time during which we bring our various intentions to the liturgy to be offered up in one prayer of petition to the Father.  Thus the pause after the priests says: “Let us pray.”  Recall how when describing the Penitential Act, the pause seems hardly adequate to call to mind our sins, so too here.  I think it presumes that we have done a little bit of preparation for this moment, perhaps as we pray before Mass.  In addition to examining ourselves regarding our need for conversion, we can also consider the various intentions we want to bring to this Mass – people to pray for, situations that seem unresolved, gratitude for blessings received, etc.  In that brief moment, we present those intentions we have already thought about to the Lord through the priest who collects the prayers of everybody and offers them up on our behalf in one prayer.

Feast Day: August 24^th | Patronage: Neurological Diseases, Skin Diseases, Butchers, Tanners,  | Iconography: Bearded as an Apostle; Wearing Tunic and Cloak (often red for a martyr); Carrying Book of Scroll because he brought St. Matthew’s Gospel to Mesopotamia, Parthia, Lycaonia, and Ethiopia; Holding Knife or otherwise indication of his being flayed alive.

One quick clarification first of all: Bartholomew and Nathanael have always been considered two names for the same apostle from the earliest ages of the Church. Bartholomew is a family name (“Bar” [“Son of”] “Tolmai”), so it would make sense that he would be called by another name as well, and since St. John’s Gospel closely link Nathanael and Philip (whereas the Synoptic Gospels link Bartholomew and Philip), it is evident these two names are for the same man.

The Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) tell us that Bartholomew was one of the Twelve, but tell us little more. St. John’s Gospel gives us a fuller account of his call. Recall that Jesus first called Andrew (one of John the Baptist’s disciples) who then brought to Jesus his brother Simon (Peter). Then Our Lord calls Philip, also from Bethsaida, and it was Philip who convinced Nathanael that he had found the Messiah:

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.” Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael said to him, “How do you know me?” Jesus answered him, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” Nathanael answered him, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” Jesus answered him, “Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these.” And he said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” [John 1:43-51]

Now, this is a famously cryptic passage! What does it mean that Nathanael was “under the fig tree”, and why does Jesus’ knowledge of this convince him so suddenly to become Christ’s disciple (especially given his unenthusiastic response to Jesus being from Nazareth. Here is a place where we have to know the Old Testament in order to understand the New Testament because the references that hearken back to God’s covenant with Israel are rampant!

Just to focus on three (skipping past all the ways Philip recognized that Jesus fulfilled the writings of Moses and the Prophets): Jesus immediately calls Nathanael “an Israelite … in whom there is no deceit!” Now, this comment refers back to the fact that Israel is the new name given to Jacob in Genesis 32 after he wrestled with God [“Israel” means “he strives with God”], whereas his birth name, “Jacob”, means “he takes by the heel”, which is exactly what he did to his brother Esau when the twin sons of Isaac and Rebekah were born, but it also has the connotation of someone who cheats or backstabs, which was something that Jacob did consistently in stealing the birthright and blessing meant for Esau, as well as in his dealings with Laban, his father in law. Back to Nathanael, who Jesus says is an Israelite without deceit; unlike so many of us, this is a man who does not connive to get his own way, doesn’t fall to mixed motives in his relationships or faith. What a beautiful grace Jesus sees in him!

But, of course, there is more! Nathanael, puzzled at this soul-reading, asks Jesus “How do you know me?”, and Jesus responds with the tremendous line, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” What does this mean?! It refers back to the prophecy of Micah about the age of the Messiah: 

Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore; but they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid, for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken. For all the peoples walk each in the name of its god, but we will walk in the name of the Lord our God forever and ever. [Micah 4:3-5]

Why do countries, or individuals, strive and scheme against each other? Because we all operate out of fear, I guess deep down a fear that we will not have enough, or be enough. But what if we lived entirely in confidence on our Heavenly Father ? His Love could replace those fears within us with the fruits of His Holy Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, self-control, etc. Notice that this was what the Lord worked to instill in Jacob, and what Jesus recognized in Nathanael, and for this reason, what happened to Jacob in Genesis 28 – when he had a vision of heaven with the angels descending towards him, and back to Heaven – is offered in even greater abundance to Nathanael, and every disciple of Christ. “Truly, truly, I say to you [you all], you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

– Fr. Dominic is still facing catching up on email, articles, visits, and everything else after his trip to World Youth Day. More to come about that pilgrimage, for this week I am praying for those fears to be supplanted by the faithful love of God.

At all of our Sunday Masses, except during the seasons of Advent and Lent, the Church invites us, after having acknowledged our sins, to raise our hearts in praise to God as we sing the Gloria.  That movement strikes me as something that is quite profound.  It is a reminder to us that we, who are weighed down by our sinfulness, have been given the gift of Jesus to save us from our slavery to sin.  This is the very message that the angel of the Lord delivered to the shepherds on the night that Christ was born in Bethlehem: 

Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord.  And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:10-12)

The very next line provides the scriptural foundation for the angels intoning this great hymn that we sing at this point of the Mass: “And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying: “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:13-14)

I find this transition from sorrow for sin to immediately giving glory to God a helpful reminder to us to not be so down on ourselves when it comes to our sinfulness.  Sure, it is appropriate to have a proper sadness for our lack of correspondence to God’s will.  But thanks be to God for the gift of Jesus and the infinite mercy He offers to us out of His love for us.  The society in which we live would have us fixated on ourselves, how we do not measure up, how we miss the mark.  But the Church, as a loving mother, does not want us to wallow in self-pity, but invites us to raise our hearts to the glory of God, whose “light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)

In a previous article, I wrote about the importance of joining our hearts and voices to the praise of God during the times of the liturgy when the Church invites us to sing.  This is especially true in the Gloria!  How unfortunate if we choose to remain silent during this great hymn in which we glorify the God who has saved us.  The only reason I can think we do not join in this hymn is that we are stuck in being too focused on ourselves and not on God.  “I can’t sing.”  “I don’t want to sing.”  “I don’t know the music.”  This past Sunday I was talking with a former parishioner from my first assignment as a priest.  She told me that she is not a good singer, but she at least whispers along because she wants to join in the music, limited as her musical ability may be.  I found that to be a beautiful expression!  Even if we do not have a good singing voice, or know how to sing, we can all at the very least whisper as we join the song of the angels in giving glory to God for saving us from our sins.  So at the next Mass you attend where we sing or recite the Gloria, sing, speak, or even whisper.  If we are truly aware of God’s goodness to us and the mercy He offers to us, then we think of the words of that familiar song: “How can I keep from singing?”

Feast Day: August 14^th | Patronage: Families, Prisoners, Amateur Radio Operators, Journalists, Political Prisoners, Pro Life Movement, Recovery from Drug Addiction | Iconography: Gray Beard, Franciscan Habit and Cord, Nazi Concentration Camp Uniform, Holding Crucifix, Rosary or Image of Our Lady, White Crown for Purity, Red Crown for Martyrdom, Palm of Martyrdom, Newsletter of Militia Immacolata.

Last week we reached the critical moment of Fr. Kolbe’s life. 10 prisoners are destined to die. He is not one of them. Yet this was the man who, as a child, had a mystical encounter with Our Lady, who offered him either the crown of purity or the crown of martyrdom, to which he asked for both. He had been assigned to the worst work-details and had barely survived a second bout of tuberculosis in the Invalid’s Block a week before, usually a death sentence. Routinely inviting others into prayer and offering confession to his fellow prisoners, he had suffered patiently a double-dose of the guards hatred. 

Francis Gajowniczek sobs “My wife and my children”, now assigned to starvation and death. But then there is a disturbance in the ranks. A prisoner pushes forward from the back. Rifles are raised. The dogs strain against their leashes. Capos shout for him to stop. Fritsch reaches for his weapon. Fr. Kolbe steps out of line, his face firm, serene. “I want to talk to the commander.” Marvelously he is not shot as he continues forward. He looks Fritzsch straight in the eye, “Herr Kommandant, I wish to make a request, please.” Fritzsch is further stupefied as Kolbe continues “I want to die in place of this prisoner. … I have no wife or children. Besides, I’m old and not good for anything.” “Who are you?” Asks the incredulous German. “A Catholic Priest” replies Prisoner #16770. Silence blankets the parade ground. 

“Request granted.”

Gajowniczek marvels that he is allowed back in line and can only thank Maximilian Kolbe with his eyes, “I, the condemned, am to live and someone else willingly and voluntarily offers his life for me – a stranger.” Br. Ladislaus saw the ten victims marched away. “I saw that Father Kolbe was staggering under the weight of one of the others as he upheld this man who could not walk with his own strength.” Wotjkowski, barely surviving the day himself, is rooted to the spot, “I’ve just seen a saint made.” Mleczko, though unable to witness Fr. Kolbe’s final days directly, recalls that the other prisoners kept a prayer vigil for their ten condemned brothers, walking past the slit through which little could be seen of their undergrown starvation bunker. Others heard the guards coming and going from the cell, checking who had perished, screaming at Kolbe to not watch them with his piercing gaze, troubled by his patience and prayerfulness as death approached. He survived for two weeks and was finally murdered by an injection of carbolic acid. Starvation and dehydration were taking too long and the cell was needed for others. And thus, on the evening of August 14^th, as the Catholic Church began its celebration of Our Lady’s Assumption into Heaven, another saint entered the panoply of those who lived lives with a love like Christ’s.

Gajowniczek would survive the war and return to his wife and two sons. He was present at Fr. Kolbe’s beatification and canonization, and his memory of St. Maximilian Kolbe is a fitting final word, and a reminder to all of us of the simple choices that led this simple priest to an extraordinary final choice: “I observed him [at] evening in the Block praying fervently and inviting others to join him – a very dangerous activity. I participated in prayer sessions he organized, and once was among his listeners at a conference he gave right outside the Block. Another day a bunch of us were shoveling manure out of a pit. Father Kolbe was beaten very cruelly by an SS guard who hit him many times in the face while his attack dog also assaulted Father, biting him seriously. Father Kolbe bore all this not just with patience but with dignity. … I recall that when he was put down for a better work squad – that of washing potatoes in the kitchen – he expressed his happiness openly to us and his gratitude toward God and the intercession of the Virgin Mary.”

– Fr. Dominic has loved St. Maximilian Kolbe ever since reading a child’s biography of the saint on multiple family car-rides. The dramatic eyewitnesses that tell his final hours to us this week (and next) are collected in Patricia Treece’s captivating biography, A Man for Others: Maximilian Kolbe, Saint of Auschwitz, in the Words of Those Who Knew Him.

A couple of years ago, I came across a book that helps the reader to pray the Mass more intentionally.  The title of the book is: A Biblical Way of Praying the Mass: The Eucharistic Wisdom of Venerable Bruno Lanteri, written by Father Timothy Gallagher, O.M.V.  Father Gallagher is best known for his writings on Ignatian spirituality, but he has also done much research and writing on the founder of his community (Oblates of the Virgin Mary), Venerable Bruno Lanteri.  In this book on the Mass, Father Gallagher writes:

For each part of the Mass, Venerable Bruno urges us to “seek the sentiments and the heart” of some biblical figure.  In a later version of this text, he invites us to pray the Mass “with special attention to its principle parts so as to enkindle sentiments in keeping with each,” again presenting these biblical figures. (p. 25 of Kindle version of book)

When Venerable Bruno approaches the Penitential Act, the biblical figure that he invites us to emulate is the tax collector in the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector.  We know the story and the key line of the passage for us is this: “But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’” (Lk 18:13)

We know that earlier in this story, one of the faults of the Pharisee is his focusing more on the faults of the tax collector as opposed to his own.  When we come to Mass, we cannot help but notice those who are around us at Mass.  We might notice how somebody is dressed, or how they may be talking before Mass.  We might see somebody with whom we have had a disagreement.  The temptation can be there to criticize what we perceive to be lacking in our neighbor, which is always easier than acknowledging what is lacking within ourselves.  But if we take on the attitude of the tax collector, we come before the Lord aware of our need for God’s mercy, not where we think our neighbor needs God’s mercy.

As I wrote in a previous article, spending some time before Mass in prayer, doing an examination of conscience, is the best way to actually pray this brief, though important, part of the Mass.  It is when we are aware of our lowliness and our need for God that we will come to the Eucharist with hearts open to conversion.  If we do not foster that spirit of humility and our need for God’s mercy, remaining convinced of our righteousness like the Pharisee, then we set ourselves up for an experience of prayer that will not be of maximum benefit to us, not because the Mass is in any way lacking, but because our hearts are not open to receive the fruits of this great prayer.

In the past year or so, there is a line from Psalm 51 that has been coming to mind more frequently when I think about this part of the Mass.  As a reminder, Psalm 51 was composed by David right after his adulterous affair with Bathsheba.  As David becomes aware of the gravity of his sin, he assumes a posture of humility not unlike that of the tax collector and he writes these words: “A clean heart create for me, God;

renew within me a steadfast spirit.” (Ps 51:12)  So David could be another biblical figure we seek to emulate in our hearts as we acknowledge our sins and so prepare to enter the sacred mysteries that follow.

Feast Day: August 14^th | Patronage: Families, Prisoners, Amateur Radio Operators, Journalists, Political Prisoners, Pro Life Movement, Recovery from Drug Addiction | Iconography: Gray Beard, Franciscan Habit and Cord, Nazi Concentration Camp Uniform, Holding Crucifix, Rosary or Image of Our Lady, White Crown for Purity, Red Crown for Martyrdom, Palm of Martyrdom, Newsletter of Militia Immacolata.

I turn to a variety of fellow prisoners of the Nazi Concentration Camp of Auschwitz to recount for us the dramatic self-sacrifice of the (up till then an extraordinary evangelist and charismatic) Conventual Franciscan Father, Maximilian Kolbe whom we celebrate this week:

Francis Mleczko, a fellow laborer from Block 14 who had been imprisoned since 1940 and, as a polish government official, often took the brunt of the Gestapo’s wrath, recounted: “We were working digging gravel (to be used in building more Blocks) outside the camp when suddenly, about three in the afternoon, the sirens began to wail and shriek. That was a terrible sign. It meant there had been an escape. At once the German sentries lifted their guns, counted us, and began to keep an extra strict watch. … it even reached the villages outside the fifteen-mile penal zone, warning the police to set up roadblock and watch for the poor fugitive. The thoughts of all of us were not on him, however, but ourselves; for if the escapee was from our Block, we knew ten to twenty of us would die in reprisal. So I prayed, and I imagine everyone else was doing the same: “Oh please don’t let him be from my Block. Let him be from Block 3 or Block 8 but not from 14.” But when we returned to camp, the worst proved true – the missing man was from Block 14.”

A Palatine Brother, Ladislaus Swies (who had been packed into the same boxcar with Fr. Maximilian two months earlier) recalled that night: “After work the whole camp stood at attention until we were dismissed to go to bed. No one got even a bit to eat. But the following morning, after just coffee, we had to go to another hard day’s work – except for Block 14, which had the missing prisoner. They were again put on the parade ground to stand all day in the sun.” Ted Wojtkowski, a 21 year old university student (half of Fr. Kolbe’s age, who would survive Auschwitz and eventually move to Chicago) stood with the other 600 prisoners from Block 14: “We stood at attention in the sun – boiling – from morning until late afternoon, with our only break at noon when we were given our soup ration. Quite a few keeled over and were left lying however they fell.”

Br. Swies stood about 50 feet away as the deputy-commander of Auschwitz, Karl Fritzsch, began to walk along the ten parallel lines of men from Block 14. Wojtkowski is in the very middle of the pack, being of middling height, and desperately hopes that those banished to the death cell will have bene chosen by the time Fritzsch gets to the eighth row. Mleczko is in the fifth row, near the end, and can only pray as the acting commandant strides back and forth, “The fugitive has not been found. In reprisal for your comrade’s escape, ten of you will die by starvation. Next time it will be twenty.” As he saunters down each line, he stares at each man, deciding whether to send him to starvation or not. Mleczko recounts the demonic game: “As he came closer and closer my heart was pounding. “Let him pass me, let him pass me, Oh pass, pass,” I was praying. But no. He stopped directly before me. With his eyes, he examined me from my head to my feet, then back again. A second complete up and down. I saw the [secretary] pose his pencil to write my number. Then, in Polish, Fritsch orders, “Open your mouth.” I open. He looks. He walks on. I breathe again.”

Wojkowski recounts a similar torture: “I am thinking my luck is okay. [Most of the quota had been filled.] Then suddenly he points down the row at me and calls “You!” I freeze in terror and can’t move. Since I don’t put my foot forward, my neighbor decides Fritsch is calling him. Unsure, he puts one foot slight out. “Not you, dummkopf Polish swine,” Fritsch snarls, and points at me again. Then suddenly, in a split second, he changes his mind and, as my neighbor starts to step back, he orders him forward and takes him instead of me.” As the guards check the list of the condemned, Francis Gajowniczek sobs “My wife and my children.” He is ignored by the Nazi’s. He is not ignored by Fr. Maximilian Kolbe.

– Fr. Dominic has loved St. Maximilian Kolbe ever since reading a child’s biography of the saint on multiple family car-rides. The dramatic eyewitnesses that tell his final hours to us this week (and next) are collected in Patricia Treece’s captivating biography, A Man for Others: Maximilian Kolbe, Saint of Auschwitz, in the Words of Those Who Knew Him.

Throughout the Mass, there are various roles that are fulfilled by different members of the assembled congregation.  You will have the ordained clergy who have a specific role in leading the worship, while the rest of the lay faithful fulfill other roles pertinent to the prayerful celebration of the Mass.  As we work our way through these reflections, when something that is unique to me as a priest (or as a member of the clergy), I will provide some thoughts as they can help all of us in better praying at Mass, not just those who perform those specific actions and words.

One of the first things that you might notice is when the priest and deacon enter the sanctuary, we kiss the altar.  Personally, I try to be mindful of having this kiss represent my desire to be as faithful to Christ as possible, whether it is in how I celebrate Mass, or how I live as a priest.  I never want that kiss to be like that of Judas, whose kiss was a sign of betrayal.

Although only ordained ministers kiss the altar, all of us can unite ourselves with the priest and deacon as they reverence the altar as a way of showing our reverence to Christ, asking Him that we, too, might be as faithful to Him as possible, especially through our full, active, and conscious participation in the Mass.

Although at present, nothing is said with this kiss, though historically, there was a prayer associated with the kissing of the altar that went something like this: “We beseech you, O Lord, by the merits of your saints, whose relics are here, and of all the Saints, that you would pardon me all my sins.”  Masses in the early Church were celebrated over the tombs of martyrs and other saints as a sign of our special connection to them in the Mass, and our seeking their intercession for us as we continue our journey which we pray will one day conclude by joining them in Heaven.

Therefore, the kiss is a sign of reverence for the relics that are typically placed in an altar when it is consecrated by a bishop.  Here at the Cathedral, the relics in our main altar are: a Relic of the True Cross, St. Isaac Jogues, St. Maria Goretti, St. Charles Lwanga, St. George, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, and St. John Vianney (whose feast day was this past Friday).  Even if there were no relics in the altar, as is the case with some newer altars, the kiss is still relevant as the altar represents Christ Himself, though obviously not in the same way as He is present in the Eucharist. 

The presence of these relics reminds us of another important point, that when we are gathered together at Mass, we are united not just with those gathered in the physical church, we are united with all of the Catholics throughout the world, for every celebration of Mass is a re-presentation of the one sacrifice that Christ offered on the Cross.  We are also united with the Church in Heaven, who gather around the throne of the lamb in unending worship.  In fact, right after the opening Sign of the Cross, the priest offers a greeting, such as: “The Lord be with you”, to which all respond: “And with your spirit.”  The General Instruction of the Roman Missal says about this greeting: “By this greeting and the people’s response, the mystery of the Church gathered together is made manifest.” (GIRM, §50) The mystery being expressed is what I just mentioned, that the ENTIRE Church, past, present, future, near, far, on earth, in Purgatory, and in Heaven are all gathered together as we enter into this greatest prayer of the Mass.  

Feast Day: August 10^th | Patronage: Rome, Comedians, Archivists, Librarians, Students, Miners, Tanners, Chefs, Chefs, BBQists, Firefighters, the Poor | Iconography: Wearing Deacon’s Dalmatic, Surrounded by the Poor, Holding or Martyred by Gridiron

St. Ambrose tells us our saint story this week. He recounts the final days of the Deacon Lawrence in a work entitled “On the Duties of the Clergy” – modeled after a famous discourse of the Roman Orator, Cicero, “On Duties” – both of them expositions on morality, on what is honorable, virtuous, and right. Ambrose’s work is the first true synthesis of Christian morality, integrating what was good and true with secular moral systems (like stoicism) with Christian revelation and grace. He makes this plain in his opening lines, “Just as Cicero wrote for the instruction of his son … so I also write to teach you, ,my children. For I love you, who I have begotten in the Gospel”. These are words addressed to his young priests, but certainly not limited to them (Augustine would pass this work onto his flock, and it has been promoted ever since as an enduring summary of what the Christian life calls all of us to.

And let us not pass by St. Lawrence, who, seeing Sixtus his bishop led to martyrdom, began to weep, not at his sufferings but at the fact that he himself was to remain behind. With these words he began to address him: “Where, father, are you going without your son? Where, holy priest, are you hastening without your deacon? Never were you wont to offer sacrifice without an attendant. What are you displeased at in me, my father? Have you found me unworthy? Prove, then, whether you have chosen a fitting servant. To him to whom you have entrusted the consecration of the Saviour’s blood, to whom you have granted fellowship in partaking of the Sacraments, to him do you refuse a part in your death? Beware lest your good judgment be endangered, while your fortitude receives its praise. The rejection of a pupil is the loss of the teacher; or how is it that noble and illustrious men gain the victory in the contests of their scholars rather than in their own? Abraham offered his son, Peter sent Stephen on before him! Father, show forth your courage in your son. Offer me whom you have trained, that you, confident in your choice of me, may reach the crown in worthy company.”

Then Xystus said: “I leave you not, nor forsake you. Greater struggles yet await you. We as old men have to undergo an easier fight; a more glorious triumph over the tyrant awaits you, a young man. Soon shall you come. Cease weeping; after three days you shall follow me. This interval must come between the priest and his levite. It was not for you to conquer under the eye of your master, as though you needed a helper. Why do you seek to share in my death? I leave to you its full inheritance. Why do you need my presence? Let the weak disciples go before their master, let the brave follow him, that they may conquer without him. For they no longer need his guidance. So Elijah left Elisha. To you I entrust the full succession to my own courage.”

Such was their contention, and surely a worthy one, wherein priest and attendant strove as to who should be the first to suffer for the name of Christ. … But here there was nothing to call holy Lawrence to act thus but his love and devotion. However, after three days he was placed upon the gridiron by the tyrant whom he mocked, and was burnt. He said: “The flesh is roasted, turn it and eat.” So by the courage of his mind he overcame the power of fire. [St. Ambrose, De Officiis Ministrorum, Chapter 41, Paragraphs 214-216]

– Fr. Dominic has always found the story of St. Lawrence’s martyrdom to be humorously daunting: How can I have the courage to not only embrace martyrdom, but to fearlessly joke with whoever is torturing me: “turn me over, I’m done on this side…”?? Yet St. Ambrose does not propose Lawrence as an “over the top” example of martyrdom, but an exemplar of authentic Christian discipleship. This deacon was willing to obey his Pope, St. Sixtus II, even above his own desire for martyrdom. We will not be asked at our judgement “did you have the guts to be martyred?”, but “did you obey Christ and His Church?” I cannot choose to be martyred, but every day I have the choice to obey fully and joyfully, and only one of those things will determine whether I enter heaven or not. Do I risk asking God what His plans are for today? When someone walks up in need, do I try to evade the request, or see them as sent by God? Am I content with the vocation and mission given me, or do I look elsewhere for tasks, fulfillment, or success?

I just wanted to give a big “thank you” to our parishioners and community members who helped to welcome the Biking for Babies crew to the Cathedral on July 14 and 15. I got to know B4B two years ago when the Cathedral hosted them for the evening and I was the celebrant at the evening Mass. They were a joyful bunch and gave great witness to their cause of promoting life and pregnancy resource centers. My week of Biking for Babies was an incredible week – physically demanding, but spiritually uplifting. On July 14, I biked around 100 miles from Charleston to the Cathedral. I was so happy to have my teammates and new friends at the parish where I am serving in my fourth year. The guys slept at SHG where I also serve. It was two worlds colliding – B4B and my Springfield life! After Mass, dinner was a joy on Friday evening as several of us shared stories and testimonies about how God has used Biking for Babies in our life. On the morning of July 15^th, I celebrated Mass at 3:30 (yes, in the morning…I was tired) before the teams had breakfast and departed between 4:30 and 5. We had a 130-mile ride to Manchester, MO, so we had to get an early start. Thank you to our generous parishioners who made food, hosted riders, and got up early to feed us and send us on our way. Biking for Babies is changing lives, starting with the missionaries and spreading to the pregnancy resource centers we support. As a group, we have raised over $250k this year and hope to reach $300k soon. Personally, my goal was to raise $5,000. As of the end of July, I have surpassed $12,000. Thank you to those who supported me financially and spiritually! As I said before, please continue to support our local pregnancy centers, First Step and Springfield Right to Life financially. Biking For Babies was founded in response to John Paul II telling young people, “Woe to you if you do not succeed in defending life!” Thank you all for being shining examples of defending life. Let us never lose hope in our proclamation of the Gospel of Life!   

Now that we have reflected on our preparations for Mass, both before arriving at the church and after, we are ready to actually enter the Mass itself.  The Mass is divided into five sections, the first of which is called the Introductory Rites.  The first element of the Introductory Rites listed by the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM) is The Entrance.  Here is what the document says:

When the people are gathered, and as the Priest enters with the Deacon and ministers, the Entrance Chant begins. Its purpose is to open the celebration, foster the unity of those who have been gathered, introduce their thoughts to the mystery of the liturgical time or festivity, and accompany the procession of the Priest and ministers. (GIRM, §47)

Most parishes choose to use an Entrance Hymn that the congregation can join in singing, though some places will sing a chant.  For our weekday masses, we simply recite the Entrance Antiphon that is designated for that day.

Notice how this beginning of the Mass is described as an opportunity to foster unity and prepare our thoughts for the mystery we are about to celebrate.  Unity is fostered when we all join in the singing of the Entrance Hymn together.  Some, because they don’t like to sing, or claim that they can’t sing, choose to exempt themselves from this part of the Mass, preferring to just stand in silence.  Might I suggest that you at least open the hymnal and follow along with the words, at a very minimum listening to them and uniting your heart with them in prayer?  Doing so helps to foster unity as we all do the same thing.  Plus, paying attention to those words can actually benefit us as the words help to prepare our hearts for what we are about to celebrate.

In this regard, I still have vivid memories of masses that I would celebrate for the Catholic high school where I was a Chaplain several years ago.  I would process in, usually singing, then I would look up during the hymn, only to see the vast majority of the students not singing, not even having their hymnals open.  Furthermore, their facial expressions said: “I do not want to be here.”  On one occasion, I had some of those students saying something about not getting anything out of Mass, and I brought up my observation from the Entrance Hymn.  I said to them, somewhat out of frustration, but with utter sincerity: “If you don’t put anything into Mass, how can you expect to get anything out of Mass?”  To be honest, I do not know how many people actually sing during the Entrance Hymn here at the Cathedral.  I try not to look lest I get frustrated and start Mass in a bad mood!  I say that with a little sarcasm, but not totally.  I do, however, urge us all to consider how it is we participate during the Entrance Procession of the Mass, seeing it for what it is – a time to foster unity among ourselves and prepare to enter into the greatest prayer of the Mass.

Up to this point, I have been providing some reflections and suggestions of how I think about approaching the preparation for and praying of Mass, but I realize I do not possess the definitive answer on these.  Many of you have been preparing for and praying at Mass longer than I’ve been alive!  So, I offer an open invite for you to share with me anything that you have found useful in your experience with preparing for and praying at Mass.  I will be happy to share those as I work through this series.  Just send me an e-mail so that I can remember them.  If you just tell me after Mass, I’m afraid I might forget!