Sunday Masses for Various Needs and Occasions

The third edition of the Roman Missal includes a host of “Masses for Various Needs and Occasions.” Forty-nine in all. In doing research on the Roman Antiphonary and on our running topic of evangelization, I uncovered an interesting fact. Four of these Masses are permitted on Sunday. The anniversaries of a pope (election) or bishop (ordination), Christian unity, and evangelization.

Even in ordinary time, I’m deeply reticent about switching out Masses and their readings, even when the minimal option of reading number two is presented. That said, it’s rather heartening to see Christian unity and evangelization so well regarded that they are functionally on the level of a solemnity.

Also those anniversaries of a bishop and pope. Has any reader ever celebrated these on a Sunday? Or even on a weekday? Cathedral parish when the bishop is present, or even when he is not?

And Christian unity may be celebrated on a Sunday. Christian unity week falls predictably every January. It would seem a strong recommendation to observe it on a weekday–there I would be far less squeamish about substituting out an ordinary time weekday or even a memorial.

The rubrics are as follows:

2. FOR THE POPE, Especially on the Anniversary of Election

This Mass is said on the anniversary of the election of the Pope in places wherever special celebrations are held, provided they do not occur on a Sunday of Advent, Lent or Easter, on a Solemnity, on Ash Wednesday, or on a weekday of Holy Week.

3. FOR THE BISHOP, Especially on the Anniversary of Ordination

This Mass is said on the anniversary of the Ordination of the Bishop wherever special celebrations are held, provided they do not occur on a Sunday of Advent, Lent or Easter, on a Solemnity, on Ash Wednesday, or on a weekday of Holy Week.

17. FOR THE UNITY OF CHRISTIANS

This Mass may be used whenever there are special celebrations for the unity of Christians, provided it does not occur on a Sunday of Advent, Lent or Easter, or on any Solemnity.

18. FOR THE EVANGELIZATION OF PEOPLES

This Mass may be used even on Sundays of Ordinary Time, whenever there are special celebrations for the work of the missions, provided it does not occur on a Sunday of Advent, Lent or Easter, or on any Solemnity.

Only evangelization includes that clause, “This Mass may be used even on Sundays of Ordinary Time.” That inclusion is especially striking to me. The rubrics for Masses numbers 2, 3, and 17 say pretty much the same thing, but aren’t as explicit about the substitution. Why is that so? Evangelization is clearly a “need” that seems to recommend even more strongly a special occasion, a special Mass. When do you suppose this option should be utilized for a Sunday? The annual missionary speaker? This fall’s occasion of the synod on new evangelization? Some dedicated parish observance?

 

Lilly Endowment to the Rescue

$5M goes to National Cathedral repair from the 2011 earthquake than inflicted $20 million in damage. Citing the Lilly family’s long support for the National Cathedral, N. Clay Robbins, president and CEO of the Lilly Endowment:

Eli Lilly, one of the endowment’s founders, and his wife Ruth were devoted to the National Cathedral and provided major support for the cathedral’s northwest St. Peter Tower decades ago.

Rev Francis H. Wade, interim dean:

The cathedral’s mission has remained intact … and that is to serve as the spiritual home of the nation.

I noticed from the cathedral web site, a lot of video, plus the order of worship from yesterday’s liturgy. Still on Roman Missal 1, I see. Using the James Moore Psalm 34 refrain for the Fraction Rite. Two choral pieces from the Renaissance. “Modern” organ instrumentals. Any reader ever worship there?

 

Baptist Funeral

My mother’s only sibling passed away last Friday after nearly ninety-one years of life capped by a four-month struggle with cancer. She was my last and favorite aunt. Despite the trip aligning with the first three days of Iowa State students in classes, I thought we could sneak a trip to Ohio, my wife, the young miss and I.

I believe this was my first Baptist funeral, and I have to say that with the exception of the reports of pastoral care and a few well-chosen Protestant hymns, I was fairly disappointed. My aunt loved to travel with friends and relatives. Her new pastor reported that she would always be in church on Sunday. Except when she reported that she would be away on a trip. He said her attitude in her final days was very similar. She expected to be in heaven, and reported that with the same feelings of anticipation and joy as she reported visiting her younger son in Alaska, or her daughter in Florida, or when going on one of her short cruises with a friend or sister-in-law.

My aunt’s favorite Scripture passage is Psalm 103. (I didn’t know that!) Verses 1 through 11 were printed in the small brochure. The pastor emeritus (or reassigned–not sure which) got up to preach over an “altar rail” of flowers and commented that he had never preached on a psalm before. And alas, after getting to the third verse of the 103rd, he veered into Romans 8 and I suppose he can still say he’s never preached on a psalm. I love Romans 8:31-39 as much as any other Christian, but still …

I do get to an occasional Protestant service now and then. But I want to know when the proclamation of Scripture has been set aside.

The message, alas, was hellfire for the unsaved. I know I had family members present who are not churchgoing Christians. Not sure what the point was in the attempted scare tactics on the non-believers and inactives. I suppose in the tradition of Luther and Calvin and the Great Awakening, the message was orthodox enough. But was it prudent? Or effective? Or even in keeping with the message of the Psalmist:

The LORD is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
He will not always chide:
neither will he keep his anger for ever.
He hath not dealt with us after our sins;
nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.
For as the heaven is high above the earth,
so great is his mercy toward them that fear him. (Ps 103:8-11, KJV)

Mercy!

 

Springsteen Points A Way

Check out Luke Hill’s reportoing on Bruce Springsteen at dotCommonweal. A few pieces:

Much  of the audience at a typical Bruce Springsteen concert looks like the  folks you might see at the 11:00 Sunday Mass in suburban parishes across  the country.  (In some cases, they are the same people.)   There’s one notable difference: the people at Springsteen’s shows sing.   They sing song after song—knowing every word, catching the slightest  tempo change, reasonably in tune and definitely in full voice.

Hey! But I concede my parish doesn’t have a typical 11AM Sunday Mass.

You may need (at age 62!) to give 3 1/2 hour  concerts—comforting, challenging and inspiring your audience with  songs old and new.

I guess most all of our Easter Vigils have some catching up to do. Not just in the 210-minute department.

 

Shabby Treatment

From Bishop Lynch’s tribute to Bishop Trautman:

I accompanied Bishop Trautman and others on his Committee to the Congregation for Divine Worship to make the strongest case for gender sensitive (aka “inclusive”) language only to have him treated very shabbily by an American Jesuit either still in or just finished graduate education at Rome’s Gregorian University. That was an awful moment that the bishop took far better than I did.

Shabby treatment: pretty much the modus operandi for those who can’t muster either a sliver of charity or half a brain of good theology.

 

Off On Retreat

Posting may be somewhat sporadic the next three days. The campus ministry staff is leading a retreat for our fourteen peer ministers and coordinators at our diocesan retreat house. It’s rather strange to pull myself out of the retreat, even if I’m not so much in a reception mode. But maybe a few insights will hit. I’ll be praying as often as I can in the next few days.

One of the practices I picked up years ago from RCIA and liturgy conferences was to place a sign-up list for roles and encourage conference attendees to jump in as lector, psalmist, presider at the Hours, or such. With a community of eighteen, that’s small-scale compared to a professional workshop. (But big compared to two years ago when it was only four student peer ministers.)

But I like spreading the liturgical roles around a good bit. There is some trepidation about the “presider” role. But most all of these students will be in a position with their peers or in the parish to lead prayer. It’s a quality every lay person in any kind of leadership should be able to do: parent, committee chairperson, small group leader, and the like. It’s the kind of thing that I think helps point people in the direction of a religious or priestly vocation. How many seminarians or deacon candidates have actually led liturgical prayer as part of their discernment for the ordained life? Probably a lot, but I suspect it’s not universal.

 

To The Dogs?

From Australia’s CathNews site, a liturgy mess. A Melbourne priest presides at liturgy outside the auspices of his archbishop. The Age reports on this. And it happened that while their reporter was in attendance, a visitor gave part of his communion to his dog. Archbishop Hart protests through this press release.

Commentary, but where to begin?

A first-time visitor to a small breakaway “inclusive” community offers a portion of consecrated bread to his dog. That strikes me as less an “abomination” (the archbishop actually labels the person who did it as an “abomination,” not the act) and more a lack of an understanding, or at worst, stubbornness. There’s no theological intent behind the action. And the animal, obviously, is an innocent.

The Age is obviously reporting on a story of human interest. The incident with the visitor’s dog seemed to just get in the way. The reporter, Barney Zwartz, was likely on assignment from his boss. It’s far from likely that Mr Zwartz and his editor are going to pull an assigned story because of how people might react to what happened with the canine. It’s probably less a situation of ridicule and more one of curiosity: this twist will draw a little attention, and get a few more readers hooked.

Nobody, not even the archbishop, seems concerned enough to mention that this small congregation is something of a breakaway group, and not operating under official Catholic auspices. Archbishop Hart seems to accept the validity of what his former foil is confecting.

Other religions get treated better, says the prelate:

Your integrity in this matter can be judged by asking whether, if something sacred to Judaism or Islam had similarly been desecrated, you would have treated the matter with such flippancy.

My sense is that the archbishop is right, but way overstates his case. In so doing, the alternative Catholic community gets some press. People who wouldn’t dream of attending have another thing to criticize. People in the fringes might have something to check out. If newcomers start bringing their pets, then they have a serious situation on their hands.

As for the notion of animals participating in human sacraments, I can say this. I’m a pet owner and an animal lover. But animals are innocent companions to human beings and there is no need for their participation in the sacraments. When people insist on it, it really says more about their own needs than what benefit the pet might receive. When people protest, it often says more about their own emotional makeup than the rightness or wrongness of a particular act. Something liturgical might be wrong, but such things are not usually personal attacks on the institution. Ridicule? No. Abomination? No. Overstating the protest? Could do more harm in the long run.

 

Deportation For Peace and Good Order

Amidst this summer’s flock of worthy women, it should be noted that clergy, too, are persecuted for making a couerageous stand. Father Viateur Banyangandora was deported from Zambia for a peace and justice homily. The official line:

Father Banyangandora’s conduct was found to be a danger to peace and good order in Zambia.

Of course it was. The good order of the rich and powerful are always bothered by preaching on behalf of the poor.

 

Three Communion Ministry Sins

On the PrayTell celiac allergy thread, Paul Inwood describes the three “mortal sins” of Communion ministers:

(a) Not using a fresh piece of purificator for each communicant.
(b) Not wiping the rim thoroughly, inside as well as out.
(c) Not turning the chalice a quarter-turn for the next communicant.

I attended a funeral this morning and received the Eucharist from a priest who performed all of these. I will admit the purificator was still neatly creased after the ten to twelve people in front of me received from the Cup. The brush of the outer rim was there. No turning the chalice.

At some point I will get my daughter to film me training someone and demonstrating proper technique. Look for that soon, will you?

Meanwhile, I really don’t get torqued off by improper procedures by clergy. Yes, they should know better. But with Communion from the Cup, they are inexperienced. Plus, I know the ministers I train pick up bad habits and as much as I tell them to unfold the purificators, our linen ironers do such a spiffy job, I feel a little reticent about messing it up, too.

 

Dress For Liturgical Success

The combox is active at PrayTell where, for the ten millionth time or so in the past century, people are discussing appropriate attire for Church.

I’m sure we’ve hit on the topic on this blog once or twice in the past decade. A few new or not-so-new thoughts …

While I think both men and women have a stake in the discussion, I do get nervous when the conversation leans toward men (oftentimes priests) telling women what they should and shouldn’t wear. Men have a responsibility to practice focus if a woman is dressed in such a way that might … inspire a stare. I will admit I make a point of focusing from the neck up many times. My wife reports–and I hope she’s right–that I’m never obvious about what I see. Thank goodness for that. I will also admit that I find the way women move more provocative to me than what they wear. But one can’t legislate against a toss of the head or hair, or the way someone looks at a husband or child. Distractions happen, and sometimes they are infused with sexuality. I try to treat them the same way as I do when I’m alone in prayer.

The pastoral ideal is for the parish to have a discussion about dress at church. And the community sets appropriate standards, thus giving a collective ownership in the presentation of style and fashion. People inevitably trespass, by accident or by choice. But the majority of members maintain, over a period of time, the setting of the bar.

For liturgical ministers, I tell people that everything they do has the goal of transparency. Every liturgical minister has the responsibility to be transparent, to make it seem through preparation, actions, dress, and everything about them, that they are invisible and Christ is communicated through their service. When I train people at my parish, I offer some non-transparent suggestions: clothing with a logo from our rival school, for example. Individuals get what I’m aiming at.

For myself, I’m still pretty used to a shirt and tie. I wear shorts infrequently and never in church. Cargo shorts just look too rumpled/weird to me. I make a personal choice not to wear clothing with logos. Shoes are pretty important, I think.

I remember a recent conversation with the young miss, who had been engaged to record video for a wedding. Would it be okay, she asked, if she wore jeans and a shirt for the balcony recording, then change to a dress for the reception. I asked her in turn what she thought she should wear to the wedding. She stomped off to her room and closed the door. I knew I’d gotten my answer. For Sunday Mass, what’s your answer?

 

Composing the General Intercessions

I was pleased to land in a parish that had a long tradition of parishioners composing the Sunday prayers of the faithful. The pastor handed me a list and said I was now in charge of recruiting students, couples, and/or committees to take a handful of Sundays–usually a month–and write away.

In the era of electronic communication, this is made very easy. I give my writer a noon deadline on Saturday, and we get the prayers into the hands of lector number three at Saturday Mass in a very timely way.

While I’m squeamish about using a practice like lectio divina in such a pragmatic way, I do suggest our writers use some sort of prayerful method to engage the Sunday Scriptures and arrive at appropriate prayers for the Sunday assembly. Here it is:

1. A few days in advance from the weekend, find a place and time free from distraction, preferably fifteen minutes minimum. Set the coming weekend’s Gospel passage and be seated in a relaxed way. You may want to have a journal at hand. After a few moments to catch your breath, begin with a prayer. Ask God for insight and grace.
2. Read the Gospel passage to yourself aloud–slowly, quietly to yourself. Pause for fifteen to sixty seconds. Perhaps a word, phrase, or an idea will come to mind. Write it down, but don’t try to analyze or justify it in any way.
3. Read the passage a second time, slowly and aloud. Perhaps something will strike you. Pause during the reading, when this happens. Perhaps for up to a minute. Consider this question: what may God be saying to you in this Scripture passage? Write down one or two sentences.
4. Look over the passage again, reading it aloud again if you wish. At the end, ponder what God may be telling the parish through this reading? What prayers are suggested in the lives of our parishioners, through these readings, and in the world this week?
5. If you are committed to this process, you could repeat on other days for the other two readings or even the psalm. The Gospel and the words of Jesus especially are what most people listen for at Mass and make their connections, so make that your      minimum aim.
6. Write out the prayers, using the reflections from your prayer time with the Gospel and other readings.
7. Conclude with a personal prayer of thanksgiving.

 

Liturgy Snapshots from A Sunday Pew

Whew! Back from a weekend in the Twin Cities. The young miss should be enjoying her first evening under the pine trees of central Minnesota as I type. Before I forget, I thought I’d relate some Sunday liturgy observations from the pew, since I so rarely get that perspective.

Three blocks from our hotel, I found St Olaf Catholic Church. The family and I were wandering through the downtown Skywalk Saturday evening and we spotted the sandy colored exterior. 10AM Mass seemed to work best, and I seated myself in a pew near the organ console. As I paged through the bulletin, I noted that I landed in Lynn Trapp‘s parish. I figured I’d not be finding much amiss in the liturgy. And I was right. The order of worship was printed on the back page of the bulletin. I was looking around for the Carl Daw text on the Opening. I needn’t have bothered; it was projected on the white spaces on the interior balcony. It’s not a great text by Prof. Daw, but I generally turn my nose up at “gathering” texts. Too darned preachy.

The psalm settings, Liturgy of the Word and during Communion, were my first exposures to these settings of Psalms 23 and 107 from the Collegeville Composers Group. Very nice. Interesting. The Psalm 23 “went on forever” in the estimation of the organist and cantor (private conversation, post-liturgy). I didn’t mind. The refrain was  longish, and two lines (of the four) were repeated interspersed with the psalm verses. It was better than random, and it engaged the congregation in a way that probably requires more attention than a sung-through hymn setting of a psalm. It was definitely not an idle time of musical reflection. It was about the most active I’ve felt after the first reading in my life, even including times when I might have played two instruments on one piece. Every week, something like this would get tiring. Like I said, for Psalm 23 and as an occasional thing, this was okay for me.

Good homily and well-structured. A young pastor who spoke fast like people of his generation, but he paused often to let the thought sink in. I had to concentrate to follow him, but it was no worse than following an African-accented associate at my current parish. He had three points in the homily. I stuck with two, a mention of the Ignatian practice of a twice-a-day examen, and being open to the opportunity of being waylaid by ministry or service opportunities.

I was having a very hard time placing the verses of the Communion Psalm. No wonder. The 107th.

Interesting harmonization on “City of God.” I will have to utilize that. I note that the advantage of throwing the music up on the wall is that they were able to pick and choose verses–in this instance, they cut the third verse. I didn’t miss it.

You know, it’s very nice to get exposed to new music, especially psalm settings, and be able to pray them. My experience of this Mass bordered on delightful. The people sang pretty well, and they were quite willing to participate in the new stuff. The musicians started when they should for Communion. I might quibble that the psalmist didn’t sing from the ambo, or that they sang all three verses of preparation, even though the ritual action was complete after refrain-verse one-refrain. But when the overall sense of liturgy is excellent, one doesn’t mind trivial problems.

 

General Intercessions

General Intercessions, Universal Prayer, Petitions, Prayers of the Faithful–I like the last of these synonyms for one of three indispensable liturgical reforms mentioned by Georgia Masters Keightley in her article in the July 2012 edition of Worship.

I’ve noted with interest and my own brand of tenacious pig-headedness the discussion here and here on the liturgies of the CMAA’s recent Colloquium. I suppose if some quarters are going to dissect the Irish Eucharistic Congress and Pope Benedict’s opinions about the thumbs-up or downness of the Roman Missal, it seems only fair that more traditional-minded liturgy get some scrutiny, too. I’d like to zero in on opting out of the Prayer of the Faithful. I think it’s a questionable practice for a liturgy conference of any sort. And while yes, it only happened twice at CMAA, and only for mere weekday Masses, I think it illustrates how difficult it is to resist tinkering with liturgy for purposes other than ars celebrandi.

In response to this stance:

Optional prayers are eliminated as unnecessary innovations.

Fritz Bauerschmidt’s commentary at PrayTell struck me:

I presume this refers to the prayer of the faithful. And, if so, this attitude toward the common prayer of the baptized for the needs of the Church and the world. . . well, it just makes me sad. Vince died this week. But it is an unnecessary innovation that we pray for the repose of his soul at Mass? We are in an ongoing financial crisis. But it is an unnecessary innovation that we pray that our leaders would act wisely and compassionately in response to this? Olivia’s protracted illness continues. But it is an unnecessary innovation that we as a community be called to remember her in prayer?

Fritz is spot on and the CMAA is most likely wrong on their practice of “eliminating unnecessary innovations.” There are several reasons why, and some of them are liturgical. It is possible to follow the rules, and yet fall into the trap of vainglory. I think that’s what’s happening with this sentiment.

The Church has long recognized the special quality of pilgrimages. I would submit that any serious regional or national gathering of believers for the purpose of the faith constitutes a pilgrimage. The CMAA Colloquium certainly qualifies. A few hundred church-minded folk descend on a host locale for several days and devote themselves to singing and liturgy. They might not be walking the well-worn paths of northern Spain, but they certainly are on a time-honored track. They might not be going up a set of stairs on their knees at an endorsed pilgrimage site like this one, but the fact of stationary kneeling is no less honored.

And while the celebration of daily Mass remains optional for the Catholic at any time, the situation on a pilgrimage or at a conference is somewhat different. There is an obligation of a different sort when one shares the experiences of travel, meals, learning, and such with others in a spiritual setting. One chooses to align oneself with worship even when it’s “unnecessary.” In fact, I would submit that a church conference attendee who opted out of optional worship would be considered with concern. Was the person sick? Was there emotional upset? Why would someone committed to a period of spiritual unity absent herself or himself from a community activity?

In effect, the daily Masses of any sort of event like the Colloquium take on the character of “obligatory” celebrations. Even if it’s not “official” such liturgies are more often celebrated with the spiritual and liturgical intensity of a holy day, and less with a “commuter” Mass that allows a small fraction of an hour for prayer.

The Colloquium has good intentions, I’m sure. I don’t agree with the politics of their liturgy, but I think the pastoral trap they’ve fallen into is to use the liturgy to demonstrate their leadership’s ideals. I remember my experiences with the North American Forum’s week-long RCIA conferences back in the 90′s. Our tasks in liturgy were less about reenacting worship as a parish ideal. With no catechumens or candidates, and all baptized believers, we couldn’t do that with integrity. What we did do was to demonstrate best practices: good musical repertoire, good proclamation and preaching of Scripture, good ritual movement. It was up to those attending the conferences to put principles into use back in their home parishes. The liturgies we prayed were for the moment, even as they were designed with an eye to best practice.

I really can’t imagine doing away with intercessory prayer at a conference like this. When I travel away from home, there are likely more prayers in my soul than if I had stayed home. The list of intentions is long: safe travel, settling well in a new location, families we have left behind, sponsors and benefactors who permit us to travel, the aims and goals of the conference itself. Intercessory prayers are as deep as bone to the believer. A cursory look at the psalms should convince a singer of that. A sense of progressive solemnity would suggest that there’s no rush to get through liturgy to eat lunch or get to the next choir practice, that the liturgy itself demands that pilgrims bring petitions before God.

Prayer of the Faithful: optional like any ol’ Mass during the week. But always a good idea for the faithful believer. Maybe even necessary.

 

On Concelebration

I see where Cardinal Burke has uttered against excessive concelebration at a liturgy conference in Ireland. A generation ago, it would have been taken as a progressive matter among liturgists. He has his reasons, of course:

I don’t think there should be an excessive encouragement of concelebration because the norm is for the individual priest to offer the holy sacrifice of the Mass.

If it is repeated too frequently, it can develop within him a sense of being another one of the participants instead of actually being the priest who is offering the Mass.

Interesting observations. I always thought concelebration was something of a shot against an all male clergy. Sure, a man appears more like Jesus. But multiple Jesus figures around the altar? What’s that about: some spiritual cloning? Of course, that’s just the view from the pew. Cardinal Burke lives in what must be a concelebration paradise, Rome. I’m sure that if a priest is called upon to concelebrate with a famous cardinal, or even the pope, it might seem like a spectator events for him. From the pews–not much difference to our eyes.

I also noted that Cardinal Burke comes down against Word and Communion services. But he doesn’t mention that fewer concelebrating clergy mean more priests for communities that don’t have resident pastors. Just saying …

 

Where’s the Mission?

I saw this CathNews story from Australia and a few things about it just seemed a bit off. Archbishop Mark Coleridge on the ritual reception of the pallium in Rome last week (from CNA/EWTN news):

It’s a shot in the arm at a time when I think we need that.

I don’t think there’s any doubt that the Church is in great need of a new vigor and sense of evangelism. I was a bit curious about the former Archbishop of Canberra participating in this ceremony. Clearly, the pallium is a function of being appointed to a new archdiocese, and less about being named as an archbishop. Moving from Canberra to Brisbane would be sort of like Archbishop Donald Wuerl of Washington DC being assigned as head of the Catholic Church in the third-largest American city, namely Chicago.

I hadn’t planned on commenting about Archbishop Coleridge at all. And then I read the lead-off article in the latest edition of Worship, a piece by Georgia Masters Keightley titled, “Summorum Pontificum and the Unmaking of the Lay Church.”

And a few pieces fell together.

Ms Keightley’s premise is that the re-advance of the 1962 Missal is theologically troubling. She cites the poverty of this form on three matters: the General Intercessions, the Rite of Peace, and the Offertory Procession.

These rites were ancient, and nearly universal to the early Church, up through the Middle Ages. According to Ms Keightley, they signify concrete and appropriate expressions of the baptismal priesthood of the laity, and our role in the world as priests, prophets, and kings–a continuation, in other words, of Christ’s explicit mission during his time on earth.

Ms Keightley criticizes the reintroduction of the 1962 Missal as being out of step with the conciliar views on the laity and our mission in the world. She suggests that the “performance” of these rites by lay people embody what is to be done in the world, our evangelical mission to “the whole creation.” (Mark 16:15)

It struck me that the careerism model has also sullied the effort of evangelization. Archbishop Coleridge is correct to cite …

(The pallium) is a call not just to me as the archbishop who wears it but it is a call to whole Church to be more apostolic and you can only become more apostolic by entering into deeper communion with the See of Peter.

While I’m not prepared to suggest that deeper Communion with Peter isn’t congruent to being “more apostolic,” I think I would question some modern practices as not exactly reflecting a proper Petrine communion. Canberra to Brisbane isn’t exactly a lateral move, but I suspect eyebrows would raise if Donald Wuerl had a forthcoming transfer.

The awarding of the pallium is so far removed from the ordinary experience of the faithful of a diocese. I don’t think I go out on a limb by saying that most Catholic priests never see this ceremony. Is it likely that Australian Catholics, who like most of the rest of their countrymen and women, aren’t easily impressed by ceremony, especially empty ceremony.

What seems far more likely is that ordinary Catholics are more deeply formed by ordinary rites, possibly even some of the rites overlooked by traditionalist Catholics.

Ms Keightley argues that the 1962 Missal is a challenge to the evangelical nature of the Church, citing Ad Gentes 2, 11, and 15. SP seems to contravene the notion that the evangelical project is something for all believers, and not just a mission of the clergy and religious. And this is not to suggest that other elements, other rites, or the Scriptures cannot or do not communicate the urgency of the mission orientation. SP did not abrogate the Great Commission, certainly. But what is at stake is the regular reinforcement provided in the three rites lacking in the Tridentine liturgical practice. One important insight:

(I)t is in performance of the Church’s liturgy, whose ritual acts embody the memory of Jesus’ own priestly, prophetic and servant activity, that the Spirit of God is present and operative, continuing to form believers in the ways of witness and mission. And, just as Jesus’ messianic work was understood to have begun at his Baptism, this is also where the Spirit’s work in Christians begins.

As for the three rites mentioned, Ms Keightley suggests that even after the General Intercessions were moved in the liturgy and evolved into a Penitential Rite (Kyrie Eleison) faithful Christian never lost their sense of intercessory prayer, and the innate understanding that our experience of prayer should lead us to concern for the concrete needs of those around us.

The Rite of Peace, by kiss, embrace, clasping of hands, bow, or whatever sign, is a display ofcommunioand something more than play-acting, or even practice. The Rite of Peace urges believers to “genuine community … in Christ, offering their common thanksgiving and praise to the Creator.”

As for the procession with gifts, Ms Keightley writes:

Perhaps more than any of the other liturgical reforms of Vatican II this action testifies most emphatically that it is all of the Church’s priestly people, clergy and laity together, who embody Christ’s priesthood and who in company with their Lord offer the eucharistic sacrifice Sunday after Sunday.

The reclamation project of the clergy-centered Church is worrisome. Archbishop Coleridge:

I’ve been saying that in my meager six weeks in Brisbane that we are at a time in the Church in Australia – and in Brisbane in particular in my case – that we have to become more missionary.

I don’t doubt it. But the Catholic liturgy needs to reinforce this week after week, day after day, and Mass after Mass. And the archbishop, and all of us, can realize that the missionary apostolate is assigned to every baptized believer, not specialists, not wearers of the pallium, not those who appear close to Peter, either by pilgrimage, state in life, or intellectual association.

Most bishops receive the pallium once in a lifetime. Their flock(s) see it week after week. But seeing, while it might be believing, isn’t the same as acting and doing. I’m sure that Archbishop Coleridge’s second pallium rite was quite moving. If any of us had been in attendance, we would doubtless report it was quite an experience. But the concern is not for those special few thousand. It’s more for the entire Church. Even Fulton Sheen could not sway a whole nation to Catholicism, popular and well-regarded as he was.

I think the experiment with the 1962 Missal can engage more deeply on these grounds, and less on peripherals, even important peripherals such as the treatment of Jews in the Good Friday prayers. To my friends who feel attached to the old form, I’d have to ask: what do you have that instills the needful sense of mission of all the baptized? Or will you be content to rest on a sense of Catholic entitlement, to be serviced by the clergy, and to blame others for the decline in faith and Christian practice?