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!

Feast Day: August 7^th | Patronage: Popes, Martyrs | Iconography: Arrayed in Gold Vestments, Wearing Papal Tiara, Holding a Book, Staff, or Processional Crucifix

From a letter of St. Cyprian about the martyrdom of St. Sixtus [Epist. 80: CSEL 3, 839-840]. St. Cyrian would be martyred several months later in the same persecution.

Dear brother, the reason why I could not write to you immediately was that all the clergy were embroiled in the heat of the conflict. They could not possibly leave, all of them having prepared themselves for divine and heavenly glory. But now the messengers have come back, those whom I sent to the City to find out and report the truth of whatever decrees had been made about us – for people have been imagining all sorts of different possibilities. Here, then, is the truth:

Valerian [the Emperor of Rome at this time] sent a rescript to the Senate, saying that bishops, presbyters, and deacons should all receive immediate punishment; that senators, knights, and other men of importance should lose their rank and their property, and if they still persisted in being Christians, they should lose their heads; and that matrons should be deprived of their property and be sent into exile. Members of Caesar’s own household, whether they had confessed their faith before or were only confessing it now, should be deprived of their property, bound in chains, and sent as slaves to his estates.

To this command, Valerian attached a copy of the letters which he had sent to the governors of the various provinces about us; and we daily await the arrival of these letters, bracing ourselves, each according to the strength of his faith, for the suffering that is to be endured, and looking forward to the help and mercy of the Lord and the crown of eternal life.

You should know, however, that Sixtus was martyred in the cemetery on the sixth of August, and four deacons with him [St. Lawrence the famous jokester and deacon would outlive his fellow deacons for four more days, and whom we will get to know next week…] Moreover, the prefects in the City are daily pushing forward this persecution, and anyone who is presented to them is martyred and all his property confiscated by the state.

I beg you to make these things known to the rest of our colleagues, so that through their encouragement the whole brotherhood may be strengthened and made ready for the spiritual conflict – so that each one of us may think less of death and more of immortality – so that everyone, dedicated to the Lord with full faith and total courage, may rejoice in this confession and not fear it, for they know that the soldiers of God and Christ are not destroyed, but crowned.

Dearest brother, always fare well in the Lord.

– Fr. Dominic recently had the chance to visit his sister in the convent and at one funny moment she asked if he were available to do Exposition the following morning at “ten of six”. Unfamiliar with monastery jargon, I puzzled over the turn of phrase for a moment to the humor of my sister, “willing to get up that early??” Of course, 5:50 AM is a bit of an ask when one is trying to rest and relax with family … but I had to surrender my desire for a full night’s sleep and agree to the early start. If a Christian’s life is meant to look like Christ, I should expect crucifixion, and getting up before 6 is nothing like what has been asked of many Christians down through the ages.

When I was growing up, I remember getting to Mass early then kneeling down to pray.  To be honest, I do not recall what I prayed about, but I do recall thinking on more than one occasion as I looked around:  “What are those around me praying about?”  I was wondering if there was a certain script that I was supposed to follow or what I should be praying for.  More often than not, I probably just knelt there in silence for the amount of time that seemed right, then I’d sit down, especially if I saw my mom or my siblings sit after doing their prayers before Mass.

When I entered seminary, I became aware of a series of prayers that the Roman Missal provided for the priest as he was preparing for Mass.  I figured that if I was going to become a priest someday, perhaps those prayers would be helpful to start using as I prepared for Mass.  And in fact, I still use many of those prayers as I get ready to celebrate Mass.

But preparing for Mass should be more than just reciting certain prayers, holy as those prayers may be.  As I encouraged in my last article, as we prepare for Mass, it is an opportunity for us to disengage our spiritual autopilot so that we can fully and consciously enter into this greatest of all prayers.  

In a document written by Pope Benedict XVI on the Eucharist, he offers the following reflection about what our prayers before Mass might look like:

In their consideration of the actuosa participatio of the faithful in the liturgy, the Synod Fathers also discussed the personal conditions required for fruitful participation on the part of individuals. One of these is certainly the spirit of constant conversion which must mark the lives of all the faithful. Active participation in the eucharistic liturgy can hardly be expected if one approaches it superficially, without an examination of his or her life. This inner disposition can be fostered, for example, by recollection and silence for at least a few moments before the beginning of the liturgy, by fasting and, when necessary, by sacramental confession. A heart reconciled to God makes genuine participation possible. (Sacramentum caritatis, 55).

Part of our preparation should therefore include an acknowledgement of our need for conversion, calling to mind where we have strayed, asking that our participation in the Mass will heal the wounds of our sins and strengthen us for a more faithful and fruitful living our lives as disciples.  Although there is more that we can and should pray about before Mass, I think this aspect should never be overlooked.  

This time in silence, opening ourselves to conversion, is necessary for one of the very first parts of the Mass that we encounter, the Penitential Rite.  The priest invites us with the following words: “Brothers and sisters, let us acknowledge our sins, as so prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries.”  The brief pause of silence is hardly enough time for us to do an examination of conscience at that point, but if we have spent some time before Mass acknowledging our sins and our need for conversion, this part becomes more than just a formality that we automatically breeze through.

Feast Day: July 25^th | Patronage: Spain, Compostela, Veterinarians, Equestrians, Furriers, Tanners, Pharmacists, Oyster Fishermen, Woodcarvers | Iconography: Carrying Book as author of Letter of St. James, Wearing Red as a martyr, Adorned with pilgrim-hat, staff, or shell as a pilgrim, Riding white horse into battle against the Moors, Clubbed to death in Jerusalem

Throughout Christian history, there has always been an emphasis on the importance of Christians going on pilgrimage to the places associated with Our Lord. We are a fundamentally historical religion, claiming that God set foot on this planet for a definitive period of years, consecrating those roads of the Holy Land, and with them our entire world. From the beginning of the Church, even as it spread out to the edges of human civilization, there was always a draw for Christians to try and make their way to Bethlehem and Jerusalem, seeing for themselves the places where their Lord and God had set foot.

Of course, it has not always been easy to get to Jerusalem, whether that be simply the arduous nature of travel throughout most of human history, or the wars and persecutions that cut Christian nations off from Israel. For this reason another place of pilgrimage, Rome, sort of symbolically because a stand-in for Jerusalem. In Rome the greatest apostles, Peter and Paul had died and were buried in their respective basilicas, but even more importantly it was in that Eternal City there you would find the magnificent basilicas dedicated to Christ’s birth (St. Mary Major), passion (the Basilica of the Holy Cross), and glorious reign (St. John Lateran). 

But what if you couldn’t make it to Rome? Was there a third option? Yes, as it turns out, there was one other great place of pilgrimage for the Christian world: Santiago de Compostela. This is the spot in North-West Spain where the tomb of St. James the Greater was miraculously discovered in 813 AD. Legend tells of his appearing to rally Christian troops beleaguered by invading Moorish armies around this time and the discovery of his tomb near to that event after a holy hermit had a vision of stars and angels surrounding an otherwise nondescript field. Over the ensuing centuries, ever-grander basilicas would be built (and lost) and rebuilt over the site of this tomb, and then early written accounts of pilgrims who made the trip there would slowly spread out across Europe, attracting more and more Christians to make the trek. 

In 2013 about 200,000 people walked at least 100 kilometers along one of the many routes that now culminate at St. James’ basilica, in 2017, 300,000, and in 2022, the number crested 400,000 for the first time. Here’s the deal, Jerusalem, Rome, Compostela are all just stand-ins for the real pilgrimage that we are all on: towards the heavenly Jerusalem and the New Heavens and New Earth where Christ will remain with us forever.  We’re all on pilgrimage whether we go to Compostela or not! The problemhappens when we forget that and start putting too much stock in our lives here. Here’s a few mental-exercises to ask ourselves if we have the right disposition: On pilgrimage, you carry everything you need on your back. What size pile of things do you, or I, consider essential? Do I treasure the simple and silent moments of my life, or just the exciting highlight-reel? On pilgrimage, you befriend and protect otherwise random strangers because you’re together on the journey towards the same destination. Do you or I really care for those that are alongside of us in our journey towards heaven? Do I pray for those that I’m “on mission” with by name? On pilgrimage, the point is not leisure but conversion; not self-actualization but self-transcendence. Do you or I seek more opportunities for holiness, or pleasure? Do I ask God to show me each day where He is giving me the chance to serve, sacrifice, and surrender?

– Fr. Dominic did the Way of St. James during the summer of 2015 with his mom, dad, and brother. You can see us dwarfed by the basilica in the picture below. And yes, we got to see the world’s largest thurible swung by a team of acolytes and suspended from the ceiling of the basilica.  There also was the memorable occasion when, for the only time in my life, I went to Confession in Spanish. 

In my previous two articles, I wrote about the internal and external ways that we prepare for Mass.  Those reflections were intended to focus on what we do for preparation before we actually go to the church itself for Mass.  But when we actually set foot in the church, what should we do just before Mass begins in order to prepare ourselves well for this greatest of all prayers?

The first thing we often encounter when we enter a Catholic church is receptacle that contains Holy Water.  We know the drill – we dip our fingers in and make the Sign of the Cross.  But how conscious are we of why we perform this almost mechanical action?  The purpose of the Holy Water is to remind us of our Baptism, the most important day of our life.  For it was on that day that we became God’s adopted children, able to call upon Him as our Father.  Our Baptism makes it possible for us to be admitted to share in this great prayer of the Mass.  Will we remember this every time we enter church?  Probably not, but nevertheless, perhaps we can challenge ourselves to it at least the next time we go to church.  Start small and let it grow!

The next action we usually take is when we enter our pew.  If our knees can handle it, we usually genuflect toward the tabernacle.  Not that I spend a lot of time watching people genuflect, but I can’t help but see it from time to time.  Some genuflections are very sincere looking, and others are a bit sloppy.  Now, I realize not everybody has good knees, but my guess is that many of us have knees that are capable of doing a full genuflection.  As a reminder, our practice is to genuflect with the right knee, to where it goes all the way to the ground, pausing ever so briefly, and then rising up again.  For the pause while down on the right knee, a good traditional practice is to use the aspiration that St. Thomas the Apostle used when Jesus invited him to put his finger into the nail marks of His risen body after the Resurrection: “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28)  This is an exclamation of adoration, which is what the action of making a genuflection is all about.  In place of a genuflection, it is just fine to do a profound bow, bending at the waist toward the tabernacle, making the same internal act of adoration.

There is one final action to consider, and that is the Sign of the Cross, something that applies to blessing ourselves with Holy Water, and which is also sometimes done when genuflecting.  We also make it when we kneel down in our pew, and when we begin Mass.  The Sign of the Cross can be sloppy as well if we don’t pay attention to what we are doing.  Try to be very intentional about making those distinct movements without rushing.  Otherwise, it sort of looks like we are swatting flies away!  The Sign of the Cross is a prayer, even if we do not actually say it out loud, and it’s important that we use all of the words: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.”  Sometimes we cut corners and just say: “Father, Son, Holy Spirit.  Amen.”  Sure, we got all three Persons of the Trinity, but we have truncated it, not explicitly calling to mind we are praying in the name of all three Persons, thus the importance of those beginning words and each ‘and’.

There are three simple gestures that we perform every time we come to Mass.  Our being aware of these actions, and our efforts to be intentional about their significance sets us up well to prepare for Mass.  If we do these actions on autopilot, our brains will just continue with the rest of the Mass in that mode.  Let’s be conscious about disengaging our spiritual autopilot when we walk in and do these three actions so that we can be fully present, fully conscious, and fully active in our participation in the great prayer that is about to follow!

Feast Day: July 20^th | Patronage: Ravenna Italy and Region, Those suffering from Epilepsy or Gout | Iconography: Chasuble for Mass, Pallium as Metropolitan Bishop, with Sheep or Shepherd Staff as a Pastor, Tonsure and White Hair and Beard linking him to St. Peter

The Roman Martyrology gives us a typically terse record of the life and death of the early bishop, St. Apollinaris:

In Ravenna, the natal day of St. Apollinaris, bishop. After the Apostle Peter ordained him in Rome and sent him to Ravenna, he underwent many different tortures. Afterwards, he preached in Emilia and converted many people from the worship of idols. When he returned to Ravenna he suffered a glorious martyrdom under Caesar Vespasian.

Assuming you all wanted more of a story than that, I turn to the Basilica that now houses most of the mortal remains of this early bishop. We travel to the Basilica of St. Apollinae Nuovo in Ravenna, Italy (“Nuovo” to distinguish it from an older basilica that originally held St. Apollinaris’s relics, St. Apollinare in Classe. His relics were removed from that church, over the place of his martyrdom, in 856 AD because pirates kept threatening in raids from the Adriatic coast.) 

What is so cool about the New St. Apollinaris is that it was originally built in 504, and dedicated to Christ the Redeemer, by the Ostrogoth King, Theodoric the Great (as his personal palace chapel… after he had taken over Rome and moved his capital to Ravenna).  Also, Theodoric was an Arian! So, this church would have to be reconsecrated as a Catholic Church, and dedicated to the great foe of Arianism St. Martin of Tours, in 561.  (Only later would it be dedicated to St. Apollinaris once his relics were moved there). This all means that, if we examine the church carefully, we can see indications of its Arian roots. Many overtly Arian (as well as Theodoric’s empirical) imagery has been removed over the centuries but not quite all.  Stretching down the entire length of both sides of the nave (body) of the Church are grand mosaics depicting saints approaching Our Lord. To the left are 22 female virgins stepping towards Our Lady holding the Christ-child surrounded by four angels and approached by three magi (here given the names Balthasar, Melchior, and Gaspar, the earliest time we find those names given to these kings). On the right are 26 male martyrs, approaching Christ the King attended by four angels. 

High above these saints are depictions of the life of Christ as the congregation would have heard during the readings throughout Holy Week, a permanent visual depiction of the most important days of the liturgical year! Also we discover in this Church depictions of the port of Ravenna from those early days, an artistic rendering of Theodoric’s palace, and the fantastically detailed raiment and crown of each of the many saints. (Hit up the QR Code for a video walking you around this Basilica). 

But I want to focus in on that depiction of the mature, reigning, Christ, Who here in Ravenna is bearded. Now, you and I wouldn’t notice such a detail given how typical it is ever since to see our Lord with facial hair.  But, at this time in Roman culture, men were typically clean-shaven (a practice made popular several hundred years earlier by Alexander the Great!) and would only grow out a beard when they were mourning. SO, a bearded Christ was actually a covertly Arian depiction of Jesus because the Arian heresy was the one that rejected Christ’s divinity, something they claimed here by using a beard to emphasize His human maturation, mortality, sufferings, etc. Needless to say, a beard no longer symbolizes an Arian conception of Christ, but when this mosaic was made, it did have that emphasis!

– Fr. Dominic brings you all of these details not just to change things up a bit this week, but to remind all of us that the way we image, speak, or portray Jesus does matter! He became man, wonderfully allowing us to depict Him at all, yet we must be careful not to let our own conceptions of Our Lord ever tug us away from Who our faith tells us He truly is.

Hopefully last week’s article about doing an attitude check with regards to how we see going to Mass was helpful.  Even as somebody who loves to celebrate Mass everyday, I found myself asking the Lord to continue to purify my attitude and renew my heart with a deeper love for the Mass.

As promised last week, my goal for this week’s article is to touch briefly on the external preparations we should undergo as we get ready to encounter the Lord at Mass.  The first thing to consider is the Eucharistic fast.  Here is what the law says concerning this fast: “One who is to receive the Most Holy Eucharist is to abstain from any food or drink, with the exception of water and medicine, for at least the period of one hour before Holy Communion.”

I am surprised at how many people are unaware of this obligation, so it is worth bringing up.  There are a few things to explain here.  There may be a person with a medical condition or advanced age where a fast is not possible.  But in general, one hour before communion (not before the beginning of Mass, but before the reception of Holy Communion) is not that much of a burden.  Notice also that the law says “at least” one hour.  One can choose to make the fast before Holy Communion longer.  The point of fasting before Holy Communion is to increase our hunger and thirst for the Lord, both physically and spiritually.  So although this form or preparation is external, it is also necessarily connected to our internal preparation.

Another form of external preparation that is at the service of our internal preparation is the timeliness of our arrival to Mass.  As I stand in the back of the church before the Entrance Procession, noticing the many empty spaces in the church, I sometimes half-jokingly comment: “The 4:02 pm bus must have not arrived yet.”  By the time I process in, kiss the altar, and look out after the Sign of the Cross, the number of people in the pews has increased significantly!  I get that our lives can be hectic and we often catch ourselves coming and going.  But I hope we can all appreciate how arriving at the last minute makes it hard to transition to a prayerful state.  Why not try to make an effort to leave a little earlier from home so that you can have a few minutes of silence during which you set your distractions aside so as to enter more fully into this great prayer that is the Mass?

Finally, I would like to reflect on our dress as we come to Mass.  As you read this, you might be thinking: “Here we go, Father is going to complain about how we dress!”  I just want for us to consider one point as it applies to our dress.  I have heard people say: “God does not care what I wear to Mass, He’s just happy I am there.”  There is truth in this.  God loves us unconditionally and He does delight when we come to Mass.  But the question is not so much about what God thinks of us, but I would suggest it is more of a reflection on what we think of God and about the importance of the Mass.  We are usually very attentive to dressing nicely if we plan to come to a funeral or a wedding.  We do that out of respect for others, to some extent.  If we can be motivated to step it up as a sign of human respect, how much more should our externals also respect the internal gratitude we have for the God who created us, continues to hold us in existence, and who will love us and bless us more than any human being ever has or could?

Feast Day: July 11^th | Patronage: European Civilization, Members of Religious Orders, Monks, Schoolchildren, Spelunkers, Farmers, Civil Engineers, those with fevers, gall stones, kidney disease, inflammation, and the dying | Iconography: White hair, Black robe (as Benedictine) with cup, bread, and raven (hearkening to the attempt to poison him), or book, crosier or cross (as abbot)

I want to embarrass St. Benedict a bit this week – as if that were possible – by drawing from a story that casts his twin sister in far better light. 

Scholastica, the sister of Saint Benedict, had been consecrated to God from her earliest years. She was accustomed to visiting her brother once a year. He would come down to meet her at a place on the monastery property, not far outside the gate. One day she came as usual and her saintly brother went with some of his disciples; they spent the whole day praising God and talking of sacred things. As night fell they had supper together. Their spiritual conversation went on and the hour grew late. The holy nun said to her brother: “Please do not leave me tonight; let us go on until morning talking about the delights of the spiritual life.” “Sister,” he replied, “what are you saying? I simply cannot stay outside my cell.” When she heard her brother refuse her request, the holy woman joined her hands on the table, laid her head on them and began to pray. As she raised her head from the table, there were such brilliant flashes of lightning, such great peals of thunder and such a heavy downpour of rain that neither Benedict nor his brethren could stir across the threshold of the place where they had been seated. Sadly he began to complain: “May God forgive you, sister. What have you done?” “Well,” she answered, “I asked you and you would not listen; so I asked my God and he did listen. So now go off, if you can, leave me and return to your monastery.” Reluctant as he was to stay of his own will, he remained against his will. So it came about that they stayed awake the whole night, engrossed in their conversation about the spiritual life. It is not surprising that she was more effective than he, since as John says, God is love, it was absolutely right that she could do more, as she loved more.

St. Benedict has one of those amazing titles that sometimes saints get after we look back at their life: Patron of Europe, or Patron of European Culture. There are six saints who have been given this same title – St. Benedict, Ss. Cyril and Methodius, St. Bridget of Sweden, St. Catherine of Sienna, and St. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross. Now, I suspect most of us will not receive such a title when we become saints, but we are all called, like these saints, to build up authentic Christian culture. 

Culture goes wrong when our lives, and then our society, are ordered around the wrong thing. (Think of any number of horrific cults. They went bad because they were centered on a bad character or evil purpose). True culture sustains and helps us thrive, and this happens when we are grounded and centered on that which is true and good (consider words like “cultivation” or that Latin word, cultus, that simply meant right-worship.)  The little anecdote from St. Benedict’s life – and truly his life in general – teaches us one simple way to build up culture in our homes,  families, and surroundings: converse about beautiful things. 

When is the last time you shared something beautiful in conversation with your spouse or child, and then you marveled in it together? We don’t often give time to that sort of thing. We just hit the like button and keep scrolling, or slurp down our delicious cup of coffee and speed into the day, or take a picture of the sunset and then drive on. If God thought it important enough to force St. Benedict and St. Scholastica to spend the night talking together do you think He might have provided beautiful, lovely, profound, awe-some things for you to enjoy, and want you to share them with those you love? I suspect He has!

– Fr. Dominic is actually visiting his own twin sister, also a nun (Sr. Mary Thomas of the Holy Name of Jesus is her name) this very weekend. He prays to be humbled as was St. Benedict, and to share with her and his family so many beautiful things that God has placed within his life.

In last week’s article, I introduced the theme that I hope to focus on for the new few months, that of delving more deeply into our understanding and appreciation of our greatest prayer, which is the Mass.    I indicated that my first reflection would be to address how to prepare for Mass, explaining that how we prepare will have a direct impact on how we experience this great prayer.  As I’ve reflected on this over the past week, it strikes me that there are two basic areas of preparation that we need to consider – internal and external.  This week we will focus on the internal preparation, and next week we will consider the external preparation.

There are a few different ways to approach our internal preparation, but I think I would like to start with doing an examination on our attitude toward the Mass.  I think I may have written about this one other time, but repeating it certainly will not hurt!  Think about how you and your family talk about going to Mass.  How often have you said internally or externally: “We have to go to Mass today”, feeling the burden of obligation over the opportunity to praise God.  It is true, we have an obligation to go to Mass, and I addressed that when I spoke about the Precepts of the Church, how we are obliged to go to Mass every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation.

How do you feel about that obligation?  What do you notice moving in your heart when you think about having to go to Mass?  For some, I am certain it is not something that fills us with much enthusiasm.  There are other things we can do during the weekend, and going to Mass can seem like an inconvenience.  Or, perhaps our experience of being at Mass has left us feeling unfulfilled.  It is not uncommon to to hear people say: “I do not get anything out of Mass.” With reverence and respect, I respond to that with a question: “But what do you put into going to Mass?”  I say that not to make people feel guilty, but to invite them to consider that maybe what is lacking is not the Mass itself, but our attitudes toward Mass.  This is my ultimate reason for offering this series, to help us to see how we can bring our entire selves to the Mass, understanding it’s beauty and better understanding how we are called to enter into the Mass, such that it becomes a transformative experience for us, and not something we simply have to endure.

So, what is your attitude toward Mass?  Acknowledge it and humbly bring it before the Lord in prayer.  If you struggle with seeing Mass as important and something to look forward to, tell Him.  If you love going to Mass, tell Him that as well.  If you are somewhere in between, tell Him that!  By bringing this to the Lord, we are asking Him to expand our hearts so that we can love this prayer more.  I presume all of us want to grow in our love for the Mass and that we are not content to just endure it for the rest of our lives!  So let’s start with asking the Lord for the grace He wants for us, especially as it concerns the Mass.  He desires for us to understand and experience the profound gift of His love that is available at every Mass.  Do you desire that too?  I hope so.  And if you do, tell Him.  That might be one of the most important places to start as we begin this journey together in exploring the riches of this greatest prayer we have as Catholics.

Feast Day: July 3^rd | Patronage: Twins, Architects, Craftsmen, Theologians, the Blind, India, Afghanistan | Iconography: Holding Staff (of missionary), Scroll or Book (of apostle), Spear (how he was martyred); two fingers together (recalling his recognizing Jesus as both God and man); touching Jesus’ side in upper room, 

Often when St. Thomas the Apostle is mentioned the first thing we recall is his doubt upon hearing of Jesus’ resurrection and tremendous return to faith when Jesus invited him to touch the wounds of His crucifixion, crying out “My Lord, and My God!” We see him depicted reaching towards Jesus’ wounds, and rightly meditate on doing so ourselves. Why were Jesus’ wounds not healed away? Why does God carry scars? These are beautiful places to pray into, but I would like to propose an additional meditation for all of us this week. In 1945, awaiting execution in a Berlin jail cell for his resistance to the Nazi regime in Germany, the Jesuit priest Fr. Alfred Delp wrote this reflection:  

There are hours when we can do only one thing: gather up all our woe and extreme plight into one imploring shout, one simple cry for mercy and help. And to cry it out or scream it or weep it or whimper it to the God who wants to save. To moan out all the woe within us into the sacred space where God touches our self and loves it and is good to it. Sooner or later all thinking and all attempts at flight must cease. Then we must lie very still so that the thorns of the thicket into which we have fallen won’t inflict new wounds. Lie very still and know our impotence and seek for God’s healing hand. There are the wounds of affliction, but then again there are the wonders of affliction. Even in our most extreme distress we must not give up trust. We should remember that the Lord God shares our life, that the Holy Spirit calls us into intimacy with God.… God’s creating and healing Spirit is present to every fiber of our being.[Alfred Delp, from his meditation on the Veni, Sancte Spiritus.]

Notice what this great priest realizes before his being murdered by the Gestapo: that our wounds are the places where Christ allows us to come closest to Him. Certainly Thomas encountered Jesus in a new way when he touched Jesus’ wounds, but Jesus also met Thomas in a new way when the doubting apostles allowed Jesus to touch his wounds! 

Why was St. Thomas not in the upper room? A boy once conjectured to Fr. Alford that perhaps Thomas was out shopping, or at the barber, and perhaps St. Thomas was! I think that Thomas is just the kind of guy to have the guts to go out and do necessary things while all the other apostles were petrified in fear. Glancing back to an earlier passage in St. John’s Gospel, we see Thomas boldly challenging the other disciples to “go [to Bethany, where Lazarus had died], that we might die with him”, with Jesus (John 11:16). He does seem to have been given a greater gift of courage! 

Similarly, on an earlier occasion in the upper room, on the evening of Holy Thursday, Jesus told the apostles: “Let not your hearts be troubled … I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” (John 14:3-4) Recall Thomas’s response: “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” It’s a good question! It again shows a man with the gumption to follow Jesus, come what may – but with an important caveat – as long as he knows the way. 

I suspect all of us are willing to follow Christ when the road is flat, clear, and obvious, but what about when He just says “keep your eyes on me and keep walking”, and we can’t see a thing? When the storms are crashing around and He asks “Is it enough that I’m in the boat?” What about when I’m about to preach and still have nothing to say? When someone is sick, and nothing is helping? When the day’s duties feel heavy, or insignificant, or I feel incapable, or unloved? Are we willing, with Thomas, to step up to Jesus, to see His wounds, and let Him see ours?

– Fr. Dominic had a nagging thought keeping him up last night. This morning, I’m tired, a little grumpy, and don’t really want to talk to Jesus about it. Thankfully, He is persistent in asking me to do so.