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!