Showing posts with label The Mass: A Commentary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Mass: A Commentary. Show all posts

Friday, June 3, 2016

Freedom, With Consequences

I want to follow up on yesterday’s post with the next part of the Mass commentary. There is a unity between what I wrote about yesterday—the impossibility of receiving the Eucharist in a state of mortal sin—and what comes next in the Mass.

After the Lord’s Prayer, the praying of which signifies the fundamental union with God made possible by Jesus Christ which will be brought to perfection in the rite of communion, comes the ritual Sign of Peace in which we express to those immediately around us some gesture of peace and good will.

This has rich scriptural significance. We can think of the Gospel passage where the Lord tells us to be reconciled with our neighbor before we can offer our gifts on the altar.

The Eucharist not only brings to perfection our union with God, but also brings to perfection our union with one another in the communion of Christ’s Body, the Church. And as we cannot receive communion if we are in a state of mortal sin (and hence not in union with God to start with), so we cannot receive communion if we are not in union with the Catholic Church, either.

This is a painful subject—disunity always is, isn’t it? But we cannot wish painful subjects away. Now there is a difference between these two types of union. The question of being in a state of sin is something only the person can answer—conscience is inviolable, and only God and the soul can make that discernment.

Union with the Church, on the other hand, is a matter of the outer forum, visible to anyone who knows the facts of a situation. If a person has made choices in their life that remove them from communion with the Catholic Church, not only should they themselves not receive the Eucharist, but the pastors of the Church have a duty to inform them of this fact.

So, someone who is simply not Catholic, but belongs to some other religion, or who has left the Church for some other system of belief and way of life. People who have made moral decisions that publicly declare that they are not bound by or under the authority of the Catholic Church in any regard. Couples co-habitating without any form of marriage, or people doing intrinsically evil things in their work lives (the Mafia, for example, or the owner of a strip club). People who not only struggle with a homosexual orientation but who are publicly living as gay men or women in a same-sex relationship. People who have taken a public stand opposing the Church in its moral or dogmatic teachings—politicians, say, advocating laws that directly oppose the moral teachings of the Church.

And yes, (since this is the controversy of the day) people who have not only been divorced but have entered into a second marriage without having gone through the annulment process for their original one. Any one of these people in any of these categories may or may not be in a state of subjective sin—I would never dream of flatly stating that—but they have indeed objectively removed themselves from the communion the Church.

This is painful, yes. We are all free to choose what we will believe and what we will do in our lives. But our choices bear consequences. If I freely choose to, say, write a blog post where I flatly deny some basic matter of Christian doctrine, I am indeed free to do so. But I am not free to do so and then continue to exercise my ministry as a Roman Catholic priest. Freedom yes, but freedom without consequences? No.

So if someone has chosen to reject Catholicism, they may do so. But they really must not present themselves in the communion line, then. Reception of the Eucharist is not only about our union with God; it is also about our union with Christ’s Body on earth, the Church.

It is not a question of having to be some perfect Catholic who gets every answer right on a catechism test and never asks a question or struggles with a doctrine. Of course not. It is a matter of the public and manifest stands we have taken in our words and in our actions.

For example, you can really struggle with the Church’s flat statement that sex outside of marriage is wrong. You can not be at all sure that’s quite correct, and still choose not to move in with your girlfriend because you nonetheless want to live your life as a Catholic. But if you and your girlfriend do move in together, you have made a choice to publicly reject the Catholic faith. See the difference?

And so in the Mass before we go to receive communion we ritually express all this, first in our praying to God as our Father and then turning to one another to express our unity as a body of believers. And only then, in a spirit of deep humility and knowledge of our unworthiness, do we come forward to receive the Holy Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, at which point the Mass and all it has signified becomes our own mystery, our own life, and we are drawn into it in fullness and in truth.


Let us pray to receive the Eucharist knowing what we are doing and being vigilant to receive it worthily and well, so that it’s fruits may be shown forth in our lives.

Thursday, June 2, 2016

Don't Get Cocky, Kid

Our Thursday stroll through the Mass has taken us through the Eucharistic Prayer and into the Communion Rite. This is the part of the liturgy when those who may do so come forward to receive the Eucharist.

‘Those who may do so’ – now that is a phrase redolent with the controversies of our day. What do you mean, ‘may’? Do you mean to suggest that there are people who may not receive the Eucharist? What kind of an outfit are you running, Lemieux? Who do you think you are, telling anyone what they can and cannot do?

And so on. And so forth. Look, I get it. The worst thing any North American can imagine is being told that they are not allowed to do something. We’re North Americans and we can do anything we want, right? ‘No right, no wrong, no rules for me, I am free’ – such is the ethos of our culture (thanks, Elsa, for summing it up for us so tunefully!). Oddly, at the same time as we angrily cast off anything the Church may have to say to us about what we can and cannot do, we easily consent to be harried and bullied on all sides by petty bureaucrats who churn out bushel-loads of regulations covering just about every aspect of life… but I am getting distracted here.

Yes, there are people who may not receive the Eucharist (whether they do so or not is really up to them, as it is not the place of the priest or other minister in the Communion line to correct people on their decisions). And the Communion Rite actually gives us a pretty good resume of who may or may not do so—the rite itself can serve as a good examen for whether or not I should go up the aisle to receive.

The rite begins with the Our Father. In other words, the reception of Communion brings to perfection something that already exists, and that is our unity with God. There is so much to say about the Our Father itself—I have blogged an entire series about it in the past, in fact. It is crucial to note that we don’t just take our relationship with God as Father for granted here—it is only ‘at the savior’s command, and formed by divine teaching’ that we pray this prayer. Our relationship with God is a gift, not a given.

And so, if we are in a state of serious sin, if we through a serious free choice to reject the moral law, have broken our relationship with God, then we may not receive communion. You cannot bring to perfection what does not exist, and mortal sin has precisely that effect. In a state of mortal sin we may remember our past relationship with God, we may grieve over having lost it, and we may truly desire to have it back  (all human beings desire God, whether they know it or not) but we do not in that state of being have it.

Now the only person who can discern if you are in a state of mortal sin is you yourself, and even that, only imperfectly. Nobody else can examine your conscience for you. But it is a very good thing not to be presumptuous about these things, not to blithely assume you’re OK with God. Are you sure about that? Really sure?

This is why frequent confession has always been recommended by all the spiritually wise, and why a fundamental attitude of humility of heart and contrition of spirit for one’s sins, mortal or not, is the true mark of a disciple. ‘Don’t get cocky, kid’, in short (thanks, Han Solo, for putting it so pithily!).

So this is the first principle for whether one ought or ought not receive communion—are you in a state of sin? Have you committed adultery, for example (i.e., you are married, and having sex with someone besides your spouse, and yes that word does indeed apply to people who have divorced and remarried)? What about theft? Told a lie? Have you been violent? Abusive, physically or verbally? Fornicated (that is having sex with someone you’re not married to, for those unclear on that word)? Missed Mass on Sunday without a good reason (i.e. illness or physical impossibility)? Blasphemed? You know – basic Ten Commandment stuff. It’s not rocket science.

If you want to be in Communion with God and you have fallen into one of these areas of serious sin, the Church does not leave you without resource. There is available to us the wonderful Sacrament of Reconciliation—go to Confession, dummy! And then receive the Eucharist!

If you don’t want to leave off your serious sin, and you don’t want to go to confession, then you really don’t want to be in communion with God, at least not as we understand these things in the Catholic religion. In which case… why do you want to receive the Eucharist in a Catholic Mass?


There is whole other aspect that pertains to whether or not one may receive the Eucharist, but that is for next time.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Everything

Our weekly journey through the Mass has taken us at long last to the end of the Eucharistic Prayer and its concluding Doxology. This prayer reads:

Through whom you continue to make all these good things, O Lord; you sanctify them, fill them with life, bless them, and bestow them upon us.
Through him, and with him, and in him, O God, almighty Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, for ever and ever.
People:  Amen. 

This final movement in the Eucharistic Prayer recalls us to a very simple reality that is for all its simplicity very hard for us to really hold on to, really remember and apply to our lives. It is this: Christ is everything (Col 3:11).

That is, He is the absolute center, the source, the goal of our lives. He is our food and drink, our life and our joy, our peace and our sure help in every circumstance. To Him all creation is yearning, from Him all creation derives both its existence and its meaning. He is the One, the only One, who gives us access to the Father and the life of the Triune God in which is all the delight and rapture of the human person found, and He is the One, the only One, through whom all of the blessings of God come down upon the human race.

Jesus is it, simply. And this end of the Eucharistic prayer simply expresses all of this in words of faith, and then does what is appropriate and right—we give all glory and honor to God the Father through, with, and in Jesus Christ, united by the Holy Spirit as one body to do so with one another and with Him, here and now in this liturgy, in anticipation of doing this forever in heaven.
And the people say: Amen.

So living this out seems fairly obvious to me. It’s not complicated, truly. How is my personal relationship with Jesus Christ going? How is yours? Are the words of the Gospel ever on our lips and hearts? Is the name of Jesus readily at the surface of our thoughts and on our tongues, not (as is so often tragically the case in our fallen world) as a curse word in anger, but as a prayer of grateful praise and constant intercession?

Do we turn to Him immediately for help and guidance in times of perplexity and trouble? Do we turn to Him just as immediately in times of joy and delight, with thanksgiving? Above all, do we come to the liturgy knowing that, however else we have done in our daily lives making Jesus what He truly is—the very center and source, the true King of our hearts and homes—at the very least we come before Him there to offer the worship He has commanded us to do (cf. Lk 22:19, 1 Cor 11: 24)?

To live this part of the Mass simply means to live our lives with Jesus as our constant companion, not our equal for sure, but our Lord who happens to live with us in close proximity every day. It means to live our lives in Jesus, to know that He is in fact one with us and that our lives and His life are one life and that the life we live is in fact His life in the world as His Body. 

And it means to live our lives through Jesus, always patterning ourselves on Him and on His Word, always going to Him to do, well, everything we do. When we love, we love through Jesus. When we pray, we pray through Jesus. When we work, we work through Jesus. When we play and rejoice and delight, it is through Him. When we suffer and mourn and die, it is through Him. Nothing is apart from Him, nothing is done without His mediation and help.


I don’t have much more to say about this—it is so simple, and we either believe it and try to live it, or we don’t. And of course the Lord does not leave us on our own to flounder about with all this stuff, but comes to us in a direct and concrete physical way to help us in all this. And that is where the liturgy takes us next, and where we will go next in this series.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Nothing Else Matters In the End

This weekly commentary on the Mass is winding down to the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, and so we now come to the following prayer:

To us, also, your servants, who, though sinners, hope in your abundant mercies, graciously grant some share and fellowship with your holy Apostles and Martyrs: with John the Baptist, Stephen, Matthias, Barnabas, (Ignatius, Alexander, Marcellinus, Peter, Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia) and all your Saints: admit us, we beseech you, into their company, not weighing our merits, but granting us your pardon, through Christ our Lord.

Last week I wrote about the previous part of the Eucharistic Prayer, where we pray for all the faithful departed, and I wrote about the reality of Purgatory and the duty of love to pray for the dead who languish there. This week I want to write about the reality of heaven, and the importance of heaven in our daily life here on earth.

This is something we never talk about these days, and that is a big problem. For the last 50 years, motivated by a certain sense of prioritizing of social justice and mission in the world, the Church at large has chosen to neglect to the point of vanishing the theme of eternal life and heaven, to the point where (I know this to be the case) more than a few good church-going Catholics no longer believe in it or consider it a necessary part of the faith.

This is absurd, of course. Our life on this earth is a hundred years, maximum, and for most people considerably less. The fact is, there is a life after death, and it is eternal. We are creatures made to survive death; the human soul is immaterial by nature, and hence immortal. These are facts, not nice if rather odd ideas.

We can spend the endless duration of life that follows our mortal death in the presence of God, and hence in a state of light, joy, peace, and beauty. Or we can spend the endless duration of life after death in the absence of God, and hence devoid of light, joy, peace, and beauty. The one state we call heaven, the other hell.

Once we accept the above paragraph as true, one conclusion inescapably emerges: the only thing that really matters in this life is to live our life in such a way that we go to heaven when we die. It is a matter, if you will, of sheer economics—one hundred years maximum of this mode of living vs. an eternity of utter bliss or utter misery.

The idea that this focus on heaven and living life in such a way as to get to heaven when we die would make us indifferent to the things of earth and to pursuing justice and charity on earth is such a stupid idea that it could only possibly have arisen in the 1960s, the decade when so many stupid ideas were conceived.

At any rate, it’s dumb and so let’s be done with it. Life is hard, but it’s harder when you’re stupid. The simple fact is, we live our life in such a way as to be suited for heaven if and only if we live our lives poured out in love of God and love of neighbor. The God we believe in is a God who passionately loves every human being He created. Our loving Him back necessarily means loving everyone and working for the good of all according to the wisdom and strength we are given by God. It is ludicrous—patently, obviously ludicrous—to say that a concern for heaven makes us indifferent to the sufferings and injustice of life on earth.

It is not the remembrance of God and what He desires of us that makes us selfish and malicious and unjust; it is forgetting Him that does that. And this is more and more the case these days; either we forget God in despair that there is such a person, and so the only good in life is to grab as much of this world as we can, or we forget God in presumption, blithely assuming that we all just automatically go to heaven when we die, so it doesn’t much matter what we do to each other on earth.

The Mass here really does establish us on the right path. ‘We your servants, though sinners, hope in your abundant mercies’ – this is truth. And we ask Him for a share and a fellowship with the saints in heaven, for it is ultimately His gift to us that we can even hope to get there at all.


But let’s be clear about it—nothing else matters in the end. There is no earthly good, no earthly pleasure, no other happiness we can attain in this life that can outweigh the question of where we are going to spend eternity. And every decision we make this day and every day should ultimately be decided on the basis of one thing and one thing alone: is this going to move me closer to God and to the heaven where He dwells, or is it going to move me further from Him? In other words, am I choosing love and goodness here, or something else? Because in the end, that is what it is all about.