Shake-Up On Liturgy Lane

Let me get this out of the way first: “Bah, Humbug!” That’s how I feel about the Christmas season—not in and of itself, but as the masters of commerce have commandeered it for their lucrative ends. Resolve with me now that through our purchase and giving of gifts we shall endeavor to express the charity of our divine Redeemer, who has become man “for us men and for our salvation”—the greatest gift that mankind shall ever know; the foundation for every choice for Christian charity.

Scrooge’s “humbug” has some merit for those who are disillusioned by the secularization of Christmas, perhaps as a stimulus to try something different. The season of Advent aims to stir within us the longing for Jesus’ coming in every sense: first as we commemorate His incarnation and birth; second as we await His return as Savior and Judge; and third as we seek His presence in every person and encounter of our days. This last coming shakes us up, transforming the routine into the mystical. How easy it is to turn down our interior volume when Scriptures such as these are proclaimed: “Come, let us climb the Lord’s mountain…they shall beat their swords into plowshares.” “Let us throw off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light…make no provision for the desires of the flesh.” “In those days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage…two men will be out in the field; one will be taken, and one will be left….At an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” They’re almost as routine as, “And also with you…We worship you, we give you thanks, we praise you for your glory….May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands, for the praise and glory of His name, for our good and the good of all His Church….It is right to give Him thanks and praise.”

You may have heard that, by this time next year, the English-speaking world will begin to use a new translation of the Mass recently approved by the Holy See. The notion of a “different Mass” is not new for anyone in their late forties or older, as the Mass was celebrated in Latin with the priests and people together facing east, with little dialogue between them, none of it in English (or whatever language was spoken outside of Mass). Around 1970 the “New Order of Mass” (the Novus Ordo) was enforced throughout the whole world. I’m told there was some preparation for it, but there also had to be some shock on that morning when the priest came out and started speaking out loud in the vernacular tongue, expecting the people to respond to everything: a real shake-up, indeed!

Now, over forty years later, the Church will be enforcing a new translation of the Novus Ordo that claims a greater fidelity to the official Latin text. The words I quoted earlier, and many others, will be different; but the Mass itself will remain the same in its basic structure, and certainly in its purpose: to re-present the sacrificial banquet of Calvary in which you and I become partakers by our reception of God’s holy Word and living Bread. It will take some getting used to, both on your part and ours: I will have to look again and think twice about the words that used to roll off my tongue after only eight short years. Of course the Church hasn’t made such decisions frivolously, just for the sake of shaking things up; but the changes will give cause for pause, an opportunity to reflect on their profound meaning. The words and concepts of the Mass may not be the stuff of our everyday living, but they are meant to change that living, as a teabag changes water into something perhaps soothing, perhaps pungent, but always flavorful…just like the Incarnation has done to all creation for all time.

There’s more to come in the way of instruction and reflection. Stay tuned.