Mere Ritual?

Those who have read my Blog for some time will have gathered that I appreciate an edifying, well presented and traditional Mass. In fact, I like the old Mass of the Roman Rite so much because of all the intricate rubrics, subtle gestures and ritual acts performed in the sanctuary. But why? More importantly, am I wasting my time on "empty religious ritual", when I should be "getting with the programme" and being more youthful and modern? I hope this post will answer some of these questions.

Firstly, I want to talk about what the Mass means to me. When I was younger, I never really grasped the full importance of what was happening on the altar each week, and quickly came to the conclusion that it was 'boring', the same every week, and not worth the time. When I "came of age" I opted not to go to Mass because of these reasons. Saying that, however; when I was much younger and preparing for my first communion, I grasped some of the sanctity which awaited me. I knew that this was truly a special moment - to receive Christ's Body onto my tongue, and to absorb Him into my very being. The feeling of being able to take the Chalice holding His precious blood, with trembling hands, was quite overpowering. I may not have understood the doctrine of transubstantiation; I may not have fully understood the role of the priesthood, or what was happening on the altar; but strangely enough this childish feeling I felt is something I strive to recapture every time I now go to Mass.

The sheer mystery of it! The fact that the priest is standing in persona Christi, in the person of Christ, and by uttering Our Lord's words is bringing about the transformation of the substance of bread and wine, to become the saving Body and Blood of Christ! People find it hard to accept this, especially as they grow up and begin to ask, in a very scientific way, how can we know this? Well, simply because Our Lord said so. "This is my Body... This is my blood of the new testament, which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins." And:

Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up in the last day. For my flesh is meat indeed: and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, abideth in me, and I in him.

St. John's Gospel, Chapter 6 Verses 54-57

In the Old Testament of the Bible we read lots about the animal sacrifices which God required the Israelites to make. Indeed, many Pagan religions inspired by this need to sacrifice follow similar rituals, despite being unconnected with Judaism. But throughout, we also read glimpses of something greater to come. Eventually prophecies spoke clearly about a Saviour or Messiah who would come to set his people free. When Jesus fulfilled these prophecies, he did so in a wonderful way which exceeded everyone's expectations. He offered his own life on the cross, sinless as it was, as a perfect and unblemished sacrifice to God the Father. Most importantly, Jesus was God the Son, made flesh, part of the undivided God-head: the Trinity. What this means is his sacrifice would be infinite and eternal. His sacrifice was substantial for all mankind, no matter what time or place. The gates of heaven were quite literally opened for us. But this isn't enough: God gave us the free will to choose eternal life or not. To choose sin and death, or saving grace and eternal life. Therefore Christ left us a perfect way to extend his sacrifice and make it available forever - by giving his royal priesthood the authority of carrying out the Mass. He instituted this ritual giving of bread and wine at the beginning of his own earthly sacrificial action: the Last Supper with his apostles. Through the Mass Christ's sacrifice at Calvary is renewed in an unbloody manner so that we may benefit from its fantastic spiritual implications each time.

Throughout the centuries, Catholicism grew as it realised more fully the mission of the apostles: to perpetuate Christ's saving action throughout time and space. The Church is known as "Christ's Mystical Body" because Christ gives his life, which is divine and eternal, to everyone who receives him in Holy Communion. What a tremendous privilege and honour! The other essential tenet to this is the saving action of confession (discussed in another post). When these two are performed together, we partake in the spiritual reality of being purified and washed clean of the stain of sin and its guilt, and then receive Christ in the Mass, and are conformed closer to Him, through the action of the Holy Spirit which transforms and renews.

This reality is at the heart of the Mass. This is why the Mass is so important! It is the closest we get to heaven on earth, and why architecturally the Sanctuary is traditionally adorned with sacred images and golden cherubs. Heaven is actually touching earth, and God himself is infused into our humble elements. Christianity is essentially a religion of flesh and bones. At Christmas, we remember especially the birth of Our Lord Jesus Christ, a humble baby yet God made man. The Holy Saints and Martyrs have their bones venerated, which often have healing powers. The humble bread and wine at Mass are transformed into the life giving Body and Blood of Christ. We find sanctification and spiritual growth through the earthly elements, and the way God chooses to divinise them, rather than through special knowledge or books. This is why a good Christian will always give glory to God, and attribute all their good works to Christ who is working in them. Christ's mystical body is the Church, and therefore all of its members are called to turn to Christ in everything we do. To go to confession to purify and heal us, and to receive Communion in order to give us the strength to act as "little Christs" in our humble lives.

So now I come back to my original point: What is with the ritual? Well, people who have been to a High Latin Mass may have a variety of feelings. They may feel it is cold, unfriendly, divisive. On the other hand, they may find it uplifting, prayerful, and powerful. People may think "smells and bells" and fancy vestments are old fashioned and pointless. Others may feel it lifts their hearts to God and orientates our minds towards heavenly things. But these are all subjective feelings, and don't really constitute why the Church has used these tools and treasured their value. We do not perform rituals and fancy gestures because we are trying to work up an atmosphere and make Christ somehow present through our actions. We do not do it because we are trapped in tradition, and re-enact them out of obligation. The Church does these things in response to the fantastic reality and mystery which I have been describing. We wish to adorn Christ's Kingdom with all the royal splendour we can. This both helps us to see the invisible reality of what is taking place, reinforcing our beliefs, and also motivates us towards the most acceptable and sacred worship we can offer to God.

It is up to each one of us to orientate our hearts and minds towards God. Ritual and custom may not always automatically do this, but it moves us in the right direction. We may not understand exactly why tradition has evolved in the way it has; we may not see why things are done the way they are. But we will also never fully understand the sacred mystery which is underpinning them all. Ritual and tradition develops slowly and over time. Sometimes it has very practical implications, such as the priest's careful and meticulous handling of the host when it becomes the Body of Christ, lest the tiniest particle should fall. Sometimes it is almost invisible and obscured as it has developed, like the incense used, which actually symbolises our prayers rising to God. But we should be careful in all cases to love these things, because they are designed to centre the Mass upon God and fill each moment with a sacrament of its own: a visible representation of an invisible reality taking place on the altar.

So ritual isn't empty and distracting; it is the wonderful treasury of the Church which divinises our worship, in light of our awareness of the sacred mysteries. It is common for protestants to try and convince us that spontaneity and charged emotion bring about the presence of God. But in the Mass we are aware that regardless of how we feel - the same sacrifice that happened nearly 2000 years ago on Calvary is being re-presented in front of us. Our response to that is one of awe and wonder. We try to express that as best we can, and these traditions and rituals are often a clear expression and teaching tool to show the yearning in our hearts.

Finally, I want to say that it would be wrong to assume that I do not like change. On the contrary, change is absolutely paramount to the Church. I would love to see and help bring about change, even if it's just on an individual level. I want the sort of changes which would see the queues to the confessional become as long as those to communion; changes which would see young people return to the nourishment of the sacraments; to sing songs which have a wealth and depth to express the fullness of our faith; to see the seminaries brimming with new vocations; to see more respect and dignity in our Sunday Liturgy. So I am all for change. But perhaps sometimes to go forward we need to look back at the Church's treasury, to find some of the answers we are looking for.