Lost and Found

I recently had the wonderful opportunity to spend two summers in Austria with the American Institute of Musical Studies.   I was in Graz, Austria’s second-largest city in the country’s southeast corner.   What a glorious experience, except for that one day.   A friend and I were riding across town to a laundromat.   When we got off the bus, I noticed that something was missing—my purse!    Panic doesn’t come close to what I felt.  My purse had everything in it, including my passport.  I left my laundry with my friend and hopped on the next bus, trying to explain my crisis with my limited German.   A kind man who understood more English than I understood German took me to the city’s center for transportation.  There they looked at me with sympathetic eyes, explaining that there was little to no chance I would get my purse back.  But, they encouraged me to check again later.   After a couple hours (and a hundred prayers to St. Anthony),  I went back.  This time, their eyes were brighter.  They reached into a lost and found cabinet and out came my purse.  I looked inside and everything—EVERYTHING was just as I had it.  No words can capture the humble gratitude I felt. 

Humility and gratitude are the fundamental elements of our liturgical prayer.  This is why we begin our liturgy with the Penitential Act.   We humbly acknowledge that we often lose our way, and recognize that God is always there, waiting to ‘find’ us.  Our only response is sheer gratitude.   Some of the prayers we pray during our Penitential Act will be changing in the New Roman Missal.  The Confiteor, for example, the prayer that begins “I confess to almighty God” has been changed to reflect a more accurate translation of the original Latin.   Let us pray that these new words lead to a deeper awareness of God’s mercy, on whom our every breath depends.  AMEN.

The Gravitas of Greeting

Greeting people these days is a challenge.  Everyone, it seems, is looking down.  The continual texting and checking of emails might make technological connections easier, but it’s not very conducive to face to face communication.   We are so buried in our ‘I’-phones, ‘I’-pads and ‘I’-pods, that we scarcely catch a glimpse anymore of the ‘eyes’ of those around us.

This is a far cry from what the liturgy envisions in its opening exchange.   The Church offers the priest-presider three options with which to greet the body of Christ at the beginning of mass.  Perhaps the most used and best known is the simple phrase “The Lord be with you.”   These words, as do many of the words in our liturgy, come from scripture.  We find them in Ruth 2:4, Judges 6:12, 2 Chronicles 15:2, and Luke 1:28.  “The Lord be with you” was a common greeting in biblical times and a constant reminder of the Lord’s presence among his people.   That greeting is not changing in the new translation of the Roman Missal. 

 However, our current response, “And also with you,” will be changing to “And with your spirit.”   These words reflect more closely the original Latin phrase, “Et cum spiritu tuo.”  This phrase can also be found in scripture in 2 Timothy 4:22, Galatians 6:18, Philippians 4:23, Philemon 25.   They conclude the letters of St. Paul to these various Christian communities.   Here, Paul is saying more than just “Good-bye.”   He is reminding those communities that they live a new existence, one which is guided by the Spirit who dwells among them.  Likewise, this exchange opens our liturgy to remind us that we gather in the name of the triune God who is continually present within and among us.  Despite our “I” madness, let us pray that these new words can help us form a greater “we” for the life of the world.

O Lord, help us to be more attentive to one another.  AMEN.

Time to Change

I don’t watch television much.  But, one program I do look forward to each week is Restaurant Impossible.  Aired on the Food Network, it features Chef Robert Irvine who does his best to save restaurant owners in the red.   Irvine has 48 hours and ten-thousand dollars to help them start turning a profit.  Most of the time this means changing the exteriors:  the food, menu, and décor.  But, it also means changing the interiors:  the owners themselves.   Irvine challenges them to change their ways of doing business and their ways of being in relationship with their partners, their staff and their customers.  That always proves to be the hardest part.  But, as the program demonstrates week after week, if the owners aren’t willing to undergo an interior conversion, it doesn’t matter if a menu item like Pork Salad changes up to Spinach and Mint-Basil Pesto-Stuffed Pork Loin. 

The Church is about to make an exterior change in its liturgy.  We will soon receive a new Sacramentary (the big red book used by the priest during Mass).   Some of the prayers and responses we use at Mass will change.   Changing the words we pray will be a challenge, but over time and with repetition, it will become easier.  The real challenge will be changing ourselves which is the purpose of all our liturgical prayers.   Our liturgical prayers are changing because church officials believed it best that they be closer to the original Latin language in which they were written.  But, the real language of the liturgy is always the language of conversion.  If we have no desire to change our inner selves, then it really doesn’t matter if we say “and also with you,” (current translation) or, “and with your spirit,” (future translation).   As Restaurant Impossible teaches, inner change is not only crucial, it’s good for business!

 O Lord, give us the desire to change our hearts.  AMEN.

The Power of Ritual

Like many stroke patients, Mom struggled to regain what she had lost.   The days following a cerebral hemorrhage left her aphasic.  She had difficulty expressing herself and comprehending others.   She could only utter a few words that were clear.  Yet, the influence of her Catholic faith was not lost.  She called every doctor and male nurse “Father” and every female nurse “Sister.”  But, there was another element of her faith that would prove significant.  We took her to the hospital chapel for Mass.   I remember her courageous attempt to sing the opening song.  Next came the words and the motions of the sign of the cross.  Then, a robust “and also with you” response to the priest’s greeting.  Throughout the liturgy, she scarcely missed a beat.   This woman who could remember only a few words was able to pray her way through an entire Mass.  It was as if the lights in my Mother’s brain, dimmed by the stroke, were powered back on by the power of ritual.   

Another reminder of the power of ritual came on September 11^th, 2001.   Like other churches, ours was filled to capacity that night.  Droves of people came to pray, to lament, and to mourn with one another in a time of national crisis.   But, they were also drawn to church because of the power of ritual.  Because ritual is orderly, stable and familiar, it offers a sense of comfort when we need it the most.  When our worldly order has been turned upside-down and we are made vulnerable by personal crisis or national catastrophe, it is religious ritual that helps transform our chaos.   This is because our liturgy is an expression of God’s very being, whose first act was to transform a chaotic wasteland into an ordered world.   Let us pray that our liturgies help order our lives toward the will of God.

O Lord, help us to trust in times of chaos.  AMEN.