What if. What if we went to Mass one Sunday; and, when
it had concluded, we began leaving.
However, there is something different this time. In order to leave, we had to write down what
two of the readings were about. How many
of us would be able to leave?
I say this because, for many of
us—and I say “us,” including everyone, because we are one, a body—go to Mass
out of obligation. We believe we are
good people. We go to Mass not out of
real need but out of a sense of duty. We
can say to others, “I go to church; I’m a church-going person.” We go to church because that is what
Christians are supposed to do. Some
receive communion in order to do something or because everyone else is doing
it. We give little thought as to what we
need out of this Mass. God commands we
go to Mass because we need it, not because he derives some benefit from
it. That being said, I want to write as
to just one part of the Mass, the Sanctus.
Regis J. Flaherty, in his book Discovery
the “Awe” of the Mass, writes: “It is now our turn to respond to the
call—to sing with the choirs of angels! … While remaining at our pew we are
called to participate in what continues in the heavenly kingdom. With our spiritual eyes we realize that the
archangels, the cherubim, the seraphim, and all the saints who have gone before
us invite us to their church—into their worship service. They are singing ‘Holy, holy, holy’ to the
King of kings. When we sing our ‘Holy,
holy, holy’ we are merely joining the song already in progress. Those saints are in such awe that they ‘fall
down before’ Christ enthroned in glory. If we adjust our spiritual vision, we
too will be in awe.”[1] When I first read this, I envisioned a choir
singing, and then we just “pitched” in.
There is much more to it than that, of course.
In our Catechism, we read: “How will
Jerusalem welcome her Messiah? Although
Jesus had always refused popular attempts to make him king, he chooses the time
and prepares the details for his messianic entry into the city of ‘his father
David.’ Acclaimed as son of David, as
the one who brings salvation (Hosanna
means ‘Save!’ or ‘Give salvation!’), the ‘King of glory’ enters his City ‘riding
on an ass.’ Jesus conquers the Daughter
of Zion, a figure of his Church, neither by ruse nor by violence, but by the
humility that bears witness to the truth. And so the subjects of his kingdom on that day
are children and God’s poor, who acclaim him as had the angels when they
announced him to the shepherds. Their
acclamation, ‘Blessed be he who comes in the name of the Lord,’ is taken up by
the Church in the ‘Sanctus’ of the
Eucharistic liturgy that introduces the memorial of the Lord’s Passover. Jesus’
entry into Jerusalem manifested the coming of the kingdom that the King-Messiah
was going to accomplish by the Passover of his Death and Resurrection.”[2] It is this that I desire to speak to.
My first thought upon reading this
was: In what way is Jesus coming? He is
already there. This is manifested by the
“red” candle. He is already present in
the Tabernacle. He is presiding over the
Mass from the crucifix. It is he who is
speaking by way of the priest and in the readings. Therefore, how is he coming when he is
already present? He is coming to us, of
course, in the Eucharist. Why is he
coming? That is the question each of us
need to ask ourselves as we sing the “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Why are we celebrating this coming, on this
day?
Scott Hahn, in his short book, Come
Again? The Real Presence as Parousia, tells us that the Church sees the
Eucharist as a “coming” of Christ—not the coming we commonly referring to as
the Second Coming. He states: “Our Lord
promised: ‘You will not see Me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is He who comes
in the name of the Lord’—that is, until the [coming, the presence of
Christ]. How right it is for the Church
to place those words, ‘Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord,’ on our
lips just moments before the Eucharistic consecration in the Mass, just moments
before our Lord’s Eucharistic parousia.”[3]
This makes the Sanctus a
reality. We are eagerly anticipating
what is about to momentarily occur:
Jesus coming, making His presence known, in the Eucharist. Listen to this early Church prayer in the
Liturgy of the Blessed Apostles: “How
breathes in us, O our Lord and God, the sweet fragrance of the sweetness of
your love; illumined are our souls, through the knowledge of your truth: may we
be rendered worthy of receiving the manifestation of your beloved from your
holy heavens: there shall we render thanks unto you, and, in the meantime,
glorify you without ceasing in your Church, crowned and filled with every aid
and blessing, because you are Lord and Father, Creator of all.”[4] This is going to be fulfilled in the
Eucharist.
Only the holy sings the
Sanctus. Why would the unholy sing? Why would one content in his sins be singing,
“Holy, Holy, Holy”? It is only the holy
who would—and will—sing this. Jesus is
coming to each of us individually, not for ourselves alone but for the benefit
and holiness of the Catholic Church and for humanity. Jesus is coming to us in a few moments in the
Eucharist; what is it that we desire to ask of him?
The sun is a visible picture of
God. Without the sun, we have no life;
we die. Even on the days in which we
have thunderstorms, the sun is still out, giving us life—although it is veiled
by the storm clouds. How often our daily
lives veil God from us; nevertheless, he is bestowing his grace and mercy upon
us. Seeing the sun should remind us of
the Incarnation, that God has made himself visible to us in and through Jesus,
the Son of God.
Although the disciples walked with
Jesus, held conversations with him, and dined with him, nevertheless they were
not face-to-face with him because they were not as he was, was not yet the
image of him. He taught them, molded
them, causing them—through his teaching and the trials he put them through—to progressively
be transformed into his image until that time that they were able to see him
face-to-face. This is what the Sanctus
is anticipating.
The heat produced by the sun should
remind us of the Holy Spirit. Imagine
that it is 100-plus degrees outside and extremely humid. It should remind us that God is a consuming
fire, consuming everything that does not reflect his nature, his attributes. He is consuming sin, everything that is death
(sin) inside of us. The intense heat is
not comfortable at all. Most of us are
going to attempt to escape the heat by seeking shade or air-conditioning. If we can’t, we allow ourselves to be
irritable and quick-tempered. We are
more “comfortable” holding onto some of our sins. We cannot withstand the heat all at once of
total purification; therefore, God works in us progressively. However, we must be desiring total
purification, seeing God face-to-face.
It is this that we are yearning for when we realize Christ is coming in
the Eucharist. This causes us to sing
because we know that God is granting our desire every time Jesus comes to us in
the Eucharist and the other Sacraments.
The Sanctus is a celebration. We celebrate Jesus for who he is, what he has
done, what he is doing now in purifying us, and what he will accomplish in
us. He is doing this through the Catholic
Church and the Sacraments he has prepared for her. The Eucharist makes the Sanctus a
reality. The Church is holy and will
become most holy. Christ is coming to
her and in her every hour, every day. He
is doing this in order that we will be as he is. If this is not our desire and what we are
progressing towards, are we even Christian?
If God is holy, are not his children, those born of him, also holy? Is not the earth full of his glory primarily
by virtue of those born of him and everything that is good, beautiful, and
wholesome?
“Who
may dwell on your holy mountain? Whoever
walks without blame, doing what is right, speaking truth from the heart; who
does not slander with his tongue, does no harm to a friend, never defames a
neighbor; who disdains the wicked, but honors those who fear the Lord;
who keeps an oath
despite the cost, lends no money at interest, accepts no bribe against the
innocent.”[5] The Sanctus tells us this is
occurring. “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of
hosts. Heaven and earth are full of your
glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the
Lord. Hosanna in the highest.” Jesus is continually coming to us, fulfilling
the Sanctus. What do we desire of Him?
[1]
Regis J. Flaherty, Discovering the
“Awe” of the Mass, Faith Basics, (Steubenville, OH: Emmaus Road,
2012), 26–27.
[2]
Catholic Church, Catechism of the
Catholic Church, 2nd Ed., (Washington, DC: United States
Catholic Conference, 2000), 144–145.
[3] Hahn, Scott. Come Again? The Real Presence as
Parousia: Catholic for a Reason III (Kindle Locations 221-224). Emmaus Road
Publishing. Kindle Edition.
[4]
Roberts, A., Donaldson, J., & Coxe, A. C. (Eds.). (1886). The Liturgy of the
Blessed Apostles. In J. Donaldson (Trans.), Fathers
of the Third and Fourth Centuries: Lactantius, Venantius, Asterius, Victorinus,
Dionysius, Apostolic Teaching and Constitutions, Homily, and Liturgies
(Vol. 7, p. 561). Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company.
[5] New American Bible,
Revised Edition., (Washington, DC: The United States Conference of Catholic
Bishops, 2011), Ps 15:1–5.
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