Tag: Liturgy

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Three Helpful Prayers from the Roman Missal for Those Living in Dark and Difficult Times

light in darknessOne of the great and often-missed moments in the Mass is the opening prayer, also known as the “collect.” It is called this because after priest says to the faithful, “Let us pray,” he waits a moment as they do so and then “collects” their prayers and directs them to God.

Most of the collects (pronounced káh’-lects) are quite ancient and are minor masterpieces. They are succinct, like most of the prayers of the Roman Rite, and make use of creative word order, almost as if to paint a picture of sorts. Reading them in English never does them justice, because word order is more rigid in English and the creativity of the Latin is often lost.

Even in English, though, they remain a great source for reflection, especially the newer and more faithful translations. Father John Zuhlsdorf is, of course, the great master in breaking these prayers open for us.

As my own poor contribution to this end, I would simply like to place before you three of the collects that occur during these summer months, since they are encouraging for us in dealing with the current cultural meltdown that is picking up speed almost daily.

All three of these prayers point to the problem of error and darkness in this world and ask protection for the faithful, and the courage to reject error, embrace and reflect truth, and journey bravely to our heavenly home through an uncertain and rebellious world.

Let’s look at them in their English translation. I won’t examine the Latin extensively, just making a few observations with each prayer.

O God, who through the grace of adoption chose us to be children of the light, grant, we pray, that we may not be wrapped in the darkness of error but always be seen to stand in the bright light of truth. Through our Lord Jesus Christ … (13th Sunday of Ordinary Time)

This is a prayer that reminds us of the great battle between light and darkness spoken of so extensively in Johannine literature. Recall some of the key lines from St. John:

  1. In [Jesus] was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (John 1:4-5).
  2. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God (John 3:19-21).
  3. Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (Jn 8:12).
  4. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (John 9:4-5).
  5. The Crowds rebuked Jesus saying … who is this Son of Man? So Jesus said to them, “For a little while longer the Light is among you. Walk while you have the Light, so that darkness will not overtake you; he who walks in the darkness does not know where he goes. “While you have the Light, believe in the Light, so that you may become sons of Light” (John 12:34-36).
  6. As soon as Judas had taken the bread, he went out. And it was night (John 13:30).
  7. The one who loves his brother abides in the Light and there is no cause for stumbling in him. But the one who hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going because the darkness has blinded his eyes … (1 John 2:10-11)

And thus we see in the prayer the great drama between the darkness of sin and the Light of God’s glory and holiness. It is a drama that unfolds all around us and we ask to be preserved from the deadly advance of enveloping darkness. We base our hope on God’s grace and the fact that Scripture says, For the Lord has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves (Col 1:13). And now, recalling that grace, we ask to be preserved in the gift He has given us in letting us be the children of light.

The Latin verb translated here as “wrapped” is involvamur. This can also be translated as “enveloped” and gives the impression of motion. Thus, may we not, O Lord, be caught up in the darkness of error. May we not be enveloped, or spun about and disoriented by the darkness of sin and error! Yes, spare us, O Lord!

And though the English translation asks that we always be seen to “stand” in the bright light of truth, the Latin verb is maneamus, and can also be translated as “remain.” Remaining or abiding in the truth and with the Lord is a very precious Johannine concept. The goal of our life is to remain in the Lord and dwell habitually in His light.

The prayer also asks that we may be seen to stand (remain) in the truth. This is the public witness of our love of the truth and our rejection of error. Here, too, the Latin word conspicui delivers a stronger message. In other words, may our remaining in the bright light of truth be conspicuous; may it be obvious by what we say and do.

Not a bad prayer for dark and erroneous times! Here’s the second prayer:

O God, who show the light of your truth to those who go astray, so that they may return to the right path, give all, who for the faith they profess are accounted Christians the grace to reject whatever is contrary to the Name of Christ and to strive after all that does it honor. Through our Lord Jesus Christ … (15th Sunday of Ordinary Time)

This is a similar prayer, but more focused on recalling those who have been lost in error. Indeed, how many have been lost and thus how necessary such a prayer! Restore those lost in error, O Lord, those who have strayed! For indeed, there are many things in this fallen world that are contrary to Christ and His Holy Name, which is truth.

Latin contains many words that are quite physical, even violent. The Latin word translated here as “reject” is respuere. The word literally means to spit, to eject by spewing out. And this is what we must do: radically cast off whatever is contrary to the truth of Jesus and His teaching.

The image evokes the Easter Vigil when, in some ancient accounts, the catechumens, just before their Baptism, turned to the West (toward the darkness) and renounced Satan and all his works and all his empty promises, spitting as they did so. They then turned to the East (toward the light) and professed their faith in God.

Yes, this, too, is a very powerful prayer with a memorable vigor. May we spew from our life anything contrary to the Lord’s truth and strive to live His truth!

Finally consider this third prayer for difficult times like these:

O God, who cause the minds of the faithful to unite in a single purpose, grant your people to love what you command and to desire what you promise, that amid the uncertainties of this world, our hearts may be fixed on that place where true joys are. Through our Lord Jesus Christ … (21st Sunday of Ordinary Time)

Such a beautiful prayer, and quite a masterpiece in describing the grace of the New Law! Indeed, to love what God commands and desire what He promises is the essential grace of the New Covenant that we must seek and lay hold of. It is best expressed by Ezekiel:

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. I will put My Spirit within you and cause you to walk in My statutes, and you will be careful to observe My ordinances (Ez 36:26-27).

Yes, for us who live in a fallen, darkened, rebellious, and confused world, grace is needed to overcome the stubborn and obtuse rejection of God’s truth by our flesh. God can and does do this. Of this I am a witness in my own life and I pray that you are as well. I have learned to love what He commands and to hate what is contrary to His truth.

The prayer goes on to describe the fickle and passing qualities of this world. It is something that we must ultimately escape. And while journeying through its deceptive and passing beauty, its trendy and flashy sinfulness, we ask the grace to keep our hearts fixed where true gladness is found.

Amen! These are three good prayers for us who are journeying through dark and difficult times. Don’t “tune out” during the opening prayer of Mass. Listen carefully. There are real riches to be found.

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How Do You Dress for Church? Some Helpful Encouragement from a New Video

0713blogI have written at length before on the issues of modesty and how we dress for Mass:

Rather than repost all that commentary here, I would like to focus on a new video (thanks to Brandon Vogt and the other producers) that invites us to be more considerate about how we dress for Holy Mass. The video is quite balanced and presents a range of views. One man wears a tie, the other does not; one woman wears a dress, the other, slacks. The point is not to specify in minute detail what is to be worn, but rather to reinstill a devotion that influences our clothing and demeanor at Mass within a range that is culturally recognizable as appropriate for the occasion.

As a “range” this will vary a bit based on age, season, climate, personal issues, and the like. But a range, while admitting variability still has limits beyond which we ought not to go. Consider of a road with several lanes; it also has shoulders and a guardrail. And while one may travel in any of the different lanes (styles), the shoulders should ordinarily be avoided (except for urgent reasons). The guardrail represents a final limit which, if transgressed, indicates that one has gone beyond safety and prudence.

Here are a few random observations about the range of clothing decisions for Holy Mass and what might affect and influence that range.

  1. Church norms and rules – There are no official, specific Church norms or requirements for lay persons who attend Mass mentioned in Canon Law or the Sacramentary. Surely for priests and other clergy there are many rules and norms, but I am unaware of any currently binding norms for the laity. Although veils were once required for women (in the 1917 Code of Canon Law), the current code is silent on the matter.
  2. Hence it seems that the culture supplies most of the norms. A factor to be considered is that in the West, the culture has become secular and does not therefore supply a proper sense of the sacred. Therefore Catholics ought not to simply consider cultural norms in assessing proper attire for Holy Mass.
  3. For, indeed, in American culture we almost never dress up for anything anymore. Casual is an almost ubiquitous norm. Most of us who are older than fifty remember a time when this was not so. Prior to 1968 (when the culturkampf really exploded) one would almost never think of going into a restaurant in shorts or a T-shirt. Trousers with a belt, and a button-down shirt with a collar were the expected norm. This norm prevailed in most other public places as well. Shorts and T-shirts were fine for the backyard, but not out in public. Today such norms are long-gone and casual attire prevails almost everywhere. Jeans and T-shirts, once considered rather sloppy except for those engaged in physical labor, and are now considered fashionable.
  4. So the cultural norms have changed. Some of us who are older or more conservative lament this. But some room has to be made for the general consideration of things like fashion and for the fact that people have different opinions about what is acceptable.
  5. But remember, saying that there is a range does not mean that there are no limits. There is some right and duty to insist on limits and to indicate offense when necessary. The culture, even if it has gone casual, does not alone supply a proper sense of dress for Holy Mass, since the culture has become secular.
  6. Sadly, even among many Catholics, attitudes about Holy Mass have changed, too, arguably for the worse. Poor catechism, bad liturgical practices, secularism, other cultural trends, and even architecture have all lessened the reverence many Catholics have for Holy Mass. Many do not consider that they go to meet and worship God. Communal dimensions, not bad in themselves, prevail; they are out-of-balance and eclipse the presence of God and the orientation that Holy Mass should have toward God. We aren’t just “going to Church,” we are going to encounter God and worship Him. But this is simply not the emphasis in most people’s minds and it affects the way they dress.
  7. God cares how we dress. One of the replies that sometimes comes back in discussions about proper attire is that “God doesn’t care how I dress.” One ought to avoid saying that God doesn’t care about things, especially when His revealed word indicates otherwise. There are actually a number of places where God indicates in His Word that He does care about such stuff. There is the general directive to Adore the Lord in holy attire (Psalm 96:9; Ps 29:2). Moses was told to remove his shoes for he stood on holy ground. There are directives for the Passover meal that one should have staff in hand, with loins girt, and sandals on his feet (Ex 12:11). St. Paul speaks to norms of his day regarding decorum and orderliness in worship, that women cover their heads in prayer, etc. (cf 1 Cor 11 – 14). Granted, these norms spoke to the culture of that time and admit of interpretation. But it is wrong to say categorically that “God doesn’t care how I dress.” God does care, because, as we all intrinsically know, the way we dress says a lot about how we regard something and affects how we behave. Even in our more casual times, people know the value of dressing well for a job interview, or for important events such as a prom, a wedding, or a State dinner. Clothing both signifies and affects our attitudes. To this extent God does care, because he looks to our heart and its condition. And we, too, should care, by observing a proper range of clothing choices for something as significant as Holy Mass, wherein we go to worship the God of the Universe and take part in the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. Holy attire is fitting for holy things, holy rituals, and holy people.
  8. Climate – Another common reply is that it is “hot.” Yet here in America, I can hardly avoid chuckling at that response. For the most part, people leave their air-conditioned homes, get into their air-conditioned cars, and walk into air-conditioned churches. It may be hot outside, but most people spend little time in any sort of heat. It is also fascinating to me that our most recent ancestors, who had no air-conditioning at all, usually dressed and wore a lot more clothing than we do. I suspect one thing that helped them was that they wore more natural fibers such as cotton and linen. So this retort seems more rooted in a “comfort culture” that has made us soft and out-of-touch with the real weather outside. However, as noted above, climate and weather are factors in the range of clothing that is acceptable. Back in the “old days,” before the revolution, during the hot summer we would usually wear “only” a shirt and tie to Mass. It was mainly in the cooler months that a suit jacket was worn.
  9. Getting smarter about clothes? People often ask me, as a priest, how I tolerate the hot summers in Washington. I generally find that loose-fitting clothing is actually better than less clothing. My summer cassock (which has no liner) is a better option around the parish because it breathes more and shades my skin from the hot sun. Linen albs are best in hot weather since modern polyesters don’t breathe well. I am least comfortable in the black business suit I am often asked to wear. I shop for suit jackets without liners, but they are hard to find.
  10. The common good – In going to Mass, we do not simply dress to “suit” ourselves. We ought to have the common good in mind as well. Demonstrating the sacredness of Holy Mass is helpful to us and to others as well. Being careful not to dress in ways that distract others (by immodesty other such things) is important. The way we dress can be a teachable moment for others.
  11. Charity – Discussions about attire can easily descend into a lack of proper charity. We have to accept that there are going to be differences of opinion and, as I have said all along, there is a range of what is appropriate. The main hope is to scope out a sensible range, allow reasonable diversity within that range, and seek to correct extremes. Simply scoffing at others from either side (too casual or too formal) creates more heat than light. The main point is to consider what Holy Mass is, and to dress accordingly within an acceptable range, out of faith and charity.

What to wear, what not to wear?

Hence at the risk of seeming old and stuffy I’d like to suggest a few norms for attire at Holy Mass. I hope you’ll supply your own as well.

  1. Men should wear formal shoes. We used to call these hard shoes (because they were) but today many formal shoes are actually quite comfortable. Sandals (not flip-flops) can be acceptable.
  2. Men should wear trousers (not jeans).
  3. Men should not wear shorts.
  4. Men should wear a decent shirt, preferably a button-down one. If it is a pullover shirt it should include a collar. Wearing a plain T-shirt without a collar seems too informal. No sleeveless shirts or tank tops should be worn.
  5. Men should consider wearing a tie, and in cooler weather, a suit coat. Some may consider this a bit too stuffy and formal, but who knows, you might be a trend setter!
  6. Now as I talk about women I know I’ll get in some trouble!
  7. Women should wear decent shoes. Flip-flops and beach sandals seem inappropriate. Some forms of sandals are more dressy and can be acceptable
  8. Women, like men, should not wear shorts.
  9. Women, like men, should not wear jeans, and though there is such a thing as fashionable jeans, they are seldom a good match to the Sacred Liturgy. Some nice and modest slacks can be fine.
  10. Women should consider wearing a dress or at least a skirt in preference to pants. It just looks a bit more formal than pants in most cases.
  11. Women should wear a nice blouse or shirt (if not wearing a dress). The blouse or shirt should not be too tight.
  12. Women should not wear tank tops, tube tops, spaghetti straps, or have a bare midriff.
  13. For both men and women, T-shirts with loud and obnoxious slogans or secular messages are inappropriate, as are sports jerseys and other sports paraphernalia.

Well, have at this list; add or subtract as you will; the discussion is open. But please, try to remain charitable; we all have opinions. Someone who doesn’t share your exact view isn’t necessarily a bad person. There is a range of acceptable options. Don’t attack the blogger (me) or your fellow commenters. Stick to the issue and comment on that.

If possible, please watch the video before commenting.

I have avoided speaking directly to modesty in this post. That, too, admits of a range and often leads to debates about men and women that I’d like to avoid here. Let’s focus on a sense of the sacred in attire, a theme that includes modesty but is wider than just modesty.

Here’s the video:

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The Most Essential Question of Every Liturgy – A Meditation on a Teaching From Joseph Ratzinger

blog070515There is a legend of how the liturgy and the Faith took hold in Rus (Russia). Prince Vladimir of Kiev was seeking a right worship for his people and sent representatives to look into various faiths and also liturgies. When emissaries went south to observe the Greek Christian Liturgy, they returned saying that they were not sure if they had been in Heaven or on Earth, so beautiful was what they had seen in the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople. They were sure that God dwelt there among men.

It is only a legend, however; the roots of Christian faith among the Russians is a lot more complicated. But the legend does capture the fact that the Byzantine Liturgy of the Eastern Church was a significant factor in advancing Christianity among the people who populate what is today Russia, the Ukraine, Georgia, and other nearby lands.

Joseph Ratzinger (Benedict XVI), while noting the legendary quality of the story, speaks to this legend to underscore that the Sacred Liturgy can and does have a missionary quality that can inspire and draw others to the one true God.

Exactly how the liturgy does this, however, is a matter of debate. Some would argue that it is essentially the beauty of the Liturgy and its capacity to draw us away from the mundane that leads people to God. Others emphasize a more didactic quality, wherein the elements of the liturgy must be intelligible and quickly grasped by the faithful and made applicable to daily life.

Of course we want to avoid a false dichotomy, in which one vision must be chosen to the exclusion of the other. Both notions have important insights. Yet in our time it is clear that, at least in the Roman liturgy, the emphasis has fallen on making the liturgy more intelligible and relevant to modern life, than ethereal and meant to draw us up and out of the ordinary through sublime beauty.

Cardinal Ratzinger, writing in 2005, said of this trend,

The way of thinking about “missionary liturgy” that became widespread in the fifties is, at the least, ambiguous and problematical. In many circles, among people concerned with liturgy, it led, in a quite inappropriate fashion, to turning a didactic element in the liturgy, and its comprehensibility even for outsiders, into the primary standard for shaping liturgical celebrations. Likewise, the saying that the choice of liturgical forms must be made with respect to “pastoral” points of view betrays the same anthropocentric error. The liturgy is then being constructed entirely for men. … Thus suggestions for styling liturgy became profane models, drawn for instance from the way meetings are held … or socialization rituals. God does not actually play a role there; it  is all concerned with winning people over, or keeping them happy and satisfying their demands. … No faith [is] aroused in that way [p. 332].

His language is quite strong here. Yet anthropocentricism (the belief that man rather than God is at the center of existence) remains a consistent, troubling trend in liturgy today. It is a hard mentality to break in a culture so centered on consumerism and “pleasing the customer.” This may work well in markets, but in faith and to some degree in education, it is a harmful trend. God, the liturgy, and truth itself do not exist to please us, but rather to summon us to challenging heights, beyond our mere pleasures and passions.

I have written before on this blog about anthropocentrism (HERE). And while we obviously cannot wholly abandon a notion of the liturgy being intelligible, we are ultimately being drawn into mysteries above and beyond us and thus the liturgy should have mysterious and sublime aspects.

In the same essay Cardinal Ratzinger wrote,

What persuaded the emissaries of the Russian Prince of the truth of the faith celebrated in the … liturgy was not … arguments that seemed clearer than those of other religions. What moved them was in fact the mystery as such, which demonstrated the power of the truth actually, transcending the arguments of reason … The Byzantine liturgy was not, and is not, concerned to indoctrinate other people or show them how pleasing and entertaining it might be. What was impressive about it was particularly its sheer lack of practical purpose, the fact that it was being done for God and not for spectators. … It was simply striving to be pleasing to God as the sacrifice of Abel had been pleasing to God … turning the gaze toward God was what allowed God’s light to stream down [and] … be detected even by outsiders [p. 331-332].

And there is the money quote: it was being done for God and not for spectators. … It was simply striving to be pleasing to God.

How different this is from today, when the liturgy seems so focused on us. Everything must be understood (using the vernacular both literally and figuratively). Music must not be too taxing and must be something the people can sing along with. Rituals must not be too elaborate. And, ironically, in the one place where intelligibility is most important (the sermon), it is often said that it should be brief and more an exhortatory than an instructive moment.

None of these things are intrinsically bad, but they are out of balance. There is little notion that the liturgy is directed first and foremost to God, that it is worship of God, that the rituals are for Him and are a sacrifice of praise, not merely a ceremony that pleases us.

It is not unfair to say that in the older form of the Roman Rite (especially low Mass) the people were so uninvolved as to be almost unnecessary, an afterthought. Everything was done by the priest and the servers. But perhaps we have overcorrected. Turning toward the people, introducing more vernacular, and simplifying the rites were seen as a way to involve and reintegrate the whole people of God, the whole Body of Christ into the sacred action of Christ as head and High Priest giving perfect worship to the Father.

But now may be a time for us to consider bringing back the balance we have lost, reintroducing sacred language, teaching more that God and the worship of Him are the essential focus of our liturgy. A gentle reintroduction of orienting especially the Eucharistic Prayer toward God, through a unified posture and direction of all toward the Cross, may be helpful (under the guidance of the bishop). The Liturgy of the Word can and should remain directed toward the people, for they are the goal of this proclamation.

Many will debate exactly what is to be done and how quickly, but it seems clear that balance needs to be restored in most parish settings. The ultimate goal, as Cardinal Ratzinger wrote, is that our Liturgy be done for God more than for spectators, that we simply strive to be pleasing to God. The inclusion of God’s people is important, but not in a way that forgets our collective purpose of worshiping of God, who is worthy of our sacrifice of praise. It should not be reduced merely to what pleases us.

Pope Benedict observed elsewhere that for those who prefer traditional Liturgy there is also a risk in reducing the liturgy to mere aestheticism, in which what is considered beautiful and more ancient is preferred, and is the focus for that reason. The manifestation may be more lofty and less worldly, but the error is the same: liturgy is what pleases me and its purpose is to cater to my tastes. Things in the traditional arena can get very particular, such that Roman vs. Gothic vestments, tabernacle veils vs. none, or a missed genuflection by the celebrant can become contentious and lead to uncharitable remarks after Mass.

There is not time in this post to lay out the essentials of liturgy as Scripture sets them forth. I have done that elsewhere in the past. But God gave at least the essentials on Sinai to Moses, to His disciples at the Last Supper, and to John in Revelation 4, 5 and 8. From these essentials we build and set our focus on what pleases God.

The deepest questions of any liturgy should be, “Was God worshipped?” and “Was God the true focus of our hearts?”

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On Reverence and Reserve in the Holy Liturgy – A Meditation on an Instruction by St. Cyprian

Heiliger_CyprianusIn the Office of Readings we are currently sampling from a treatise on the Lord’s Prayer by St. Cyprian. One of those readings earlier this week offered some cautionary notes on what might be termed “reverential reserve” when celebrating the Sacred Liturgy.

Before quoting St. Cyprian, I’d like to make some observations regarding the role of culture and history. Of course, dear reader, you are free to skip my poor musings and jump right to the teaching of St. Cyprian, who outranks me substantially by being a bishop, a martyr, a Father of the Church, and a Saint!

St. Cyprian surely calls for some reserve in prayer, both private and public. But I wonder how to quantify reserve? And how is it related to respect? I have certainly seen and participated in worship experiences that were “over the top.” In such instances the music was too loud, the musicians were more in the role of performers, and the “house was “rocking” more so than praying. In gospel music there is a distinction between Church gospel and “performance gospel.” The first inspires prayer and praise while the second is designed more to please and excite the audience. Christian contemporary music has similar distinctions. Some pieces can be deeply prayerful or stirring works of praise, while others have more of a “listen to me!” quality or even a “pep rally” feel.

Even in more traditional forms like chant, polyphony, and orchestral Masses there have been excesses that the Church eventually weighed in on. Chant, though seemingly the least capable of excess, did have times and schools in which the use of proportional rhythm or overly extended melismata sometimes obscured the text. Gallican Chant was more florid than Roman, and during the late Middle Ages the people of Paris flocked to places like Saint Denis and Notre Dame to hear the increasingly musical chants now sung in organum. It was quite the rage.

During the Polyphonic Age the rich harmonies and often-complex intertwining of parts sometimes overshadowed the text. The borrowing of secular tunes was also problematic. The Church Palestrina helped lead the way back to a simpler form that emphasized the sacred text over the rich harmonies.

Orchestral Masses increasingly grew to resemble operas. The settings, quite musical and elaborate, wowed the worshippers. They were also quite lengthy: some Glorias and Creeds lasted more than twenty minutes. But here, too, some popes (e.g., Pius X) sought to set limits.

As you can see, excess is not just a modern phenomenon.

Searching even further back, we see that even in  biblical times worship was an often noisy affair. Nehemiah 8 describes a kind of Liturgy of the Word that featured the people shouting “Amen” during the preaching, falling to the ground, weeping, and so forth. Many of the Psalms directed the people to clap their hands and raise their voices with shouts of joy. Psalm 150 speaks of trumpets, lutes, cymbals, and many other loud instruments that were often used in worship.

Thus we see in all eras a tendency to a certain “excess,” if a respectful reserve is the norm. Indeed, there are some cultures in which sitting quietly to pray seems almost disrespectful. In the African-American congregations in which I have served, it is often said that “God is worthy of our praise!” or, “Hallelujah is the highest Praise,” or “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord … give Him the highest praise.” Charismatic worship has similar features and declarations.

But in every age some limits have had to be found. Even in the earliest days St. Paul had to caution the Corinthians and others to maintain decorum and to set limits on speaking in tongues, prophesying, and so forth. He says to them regarding the Liturgy, Let all things be done decently and in good order (1 Cor 14:40).

And all of this background finally leads us to St. Cyprian, who in the passage quoted below summons us to a kind of sober reserve as the norm for liturgy. In some ways Cyprian, though living in North Africa, displays a kind of Roman temperament and reserve. Latin was his native tongue. And there is, to be sure, a kind of sober reserve evident in the Roman Rite and the Roman prayers, especially the Collects, which are often terse, brief, and quite to-the-point. The whole shape of the Roman Rite is sober and brief. Other forms of this Rite, especially the Gallican and Mozarabic, were far more elaborate and elongated.

And thus St. Cyprian writes from this sort of experience—or so it would seem. But for all of us, his call for reserve can be salutary, even if there are cultural differences that might permit a more demonstrative worship. Consider the words of St. Cyprian as a good reminder that some boundaries are necessary:

Let our speech and our petition be kept under discipline when we pray, and let us preserve quietness and modesty–for, remember, we are standing in God’s sight. We must please God’s eyes both with the movements of our body and with the way we use our voices. For just as a shameless man will be noisy with his cries, so it is fitting for the modest to pray in a moderate way. …

When we meet together with the brethren in one place, and celebrate divine sacrifices with God’s priest, we should remember our modesty and discipline, not to broadcast our prayers at the tops of our voices, nor to throw before God, with undisciplined long-windedness, a petition that would be better made with more modesty: for after all God does not listen to the voice but to the heart, and he who sees our thoughts should not be pestered by our voices … And we read in the Psalms: Speak in your hearts and in your beds, and be pierced. Again, the Holy Spirit teaches the same things through Jeremiah, saying: But it is in the heart that you should be worshipped, O Lord.
Beloved brethren, let the worshipper not forget how the publican prayed with the Pharisee in the temple–not with his eyes boldly raised up to heaven, nor with hands held up in pride; but beating his breast and confessing the sins within, he implored the help of the divine mercy. … and he who pardons the humble heard his prayer.

(from the Commentary on the Our Father by St. Cyprian, bishop and martyr (Nn. 8-9: CSEL 3, 271-272))

To be sure, Cyprian wrote this as a true Roman. But it is a corrective, or at least a good reminder, for us all. Exuberance has its place, especially in certain cultures, but proper order is also essential. Again, as St. Paul says, Let all things be done decently and in good order (1 Cor 14:40). Amen.

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A Reflection on the”Prayer of the Faithful”at Mass and Why The Intentions Are So Often Disappointing

IntercessionsOne of the parts of the Ordinary Form of the Mass that was “restored” from antiquity is the “Prayer of the Faithful.” However, there is (in this author’s mind) a certain disappointing quality to the intentions as they are used today. They are either overly particular and ideological or, at the other end of the spectrum, perfunctory and flat. Peter Kwasniewski, writing at New Liturgical Movement, summarizes the problem very well: 

It is surely no exaggeration to say that throughout the world the quality of these intercessions has tended to be deplorable, ranging from trite and saccharine sentiments to political propaganda, from progressivist daydreams to downright heretical propositions to which no one could assent without offending God. Even when the content is doctrinally unobjectionable, all too often the literary style is dull, flaccid, rambling, or vague. … [There is] problematic content, poor writing, and [a] monotonous manner of delivery.

Additional problems set up when there are different language groups present and it is felt necessary to have the petitions read in several different languages. The impression is given that the intentions are directed more to the congregation than to God, who knows all languages and thoughts. I have been at the Basilica here in D.C. when as many as nine different languages were used in the Prayer of the Faithful. The vast majority of those present speak English and/or Spanish. I seriously doubt that there are more than five people in attendance who speak German, Mandarin, etc. It gets very tedious, very quickly, and the time is elongated as a line of people go back and forth to the microphone.

It is so different in the Eastern Liturgies where the Great Litany is so beautifully woven into the liturgical experience and beautifully sung as well. I have memorized the Great Litany from the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom. (See video below.)

In his article, Peter Kwasniewski offers a variety of intercessions and I have downloaded them for use. You may wish to do the same by finding the links in his article to the PDF Documents.

I would also like to add that St. Peter Canisius composed intercessions for use in his time; Saints are certainly reputable sources of such things! Here is an article by Mark Woodruff (with a tip of the hat to Rev. James Bradley) that details those prayers.

The point is that MUCH can be done to improve the quality of the Prayer of the Faithful, which has remained an amateur outing at best and an ideological hornet’s nest at worst.

Perhaps a little benefit can be obtained from reviewing the norms and the history of this portion of the Mass.

The General Instruction in the Roman Missal (GIRM) has this to say about the Prayer of the Faithful:

In the Prayer of the Faithful, the people respond in a certain way to the word of God which they have welcomed in faith and, exercising the office of their baptismal priesthood, offer prayers to God for the salvation of all. It is fitting that such a prayer be included, as a rule, in Masses celebrated with a congregation, so that petitions will be offered for the holy Church, for civil authorities, for those weighed down by various needs, for all men and women, and for the salvation of the whole world. As a rule, the series of intentions is to be

1. For the needs of the Church;
2. For public authorities and the salvation of the whole world;
3. For those burdened by any kind of difficulty;
4. For the local community.

Nevertheless, in a particular celebration, such as Confirmation, Marriage, or a Funeral, the series of intentions may reflect more closely the particular occasion.

It is for the priest celebrant to direct this prayer from the chair. He himself begins it with a brief introduction, by which he invites the faithful to pray, and likewise he concludes it with a prayer. The intentions announced should be sober, be composed freely but prudently, and be succinct, and they should express the prayer of the entire community (GIRM 69-71).

History – These intentions were very common in the early Church, at about the same point in the Mass that we have them today. They followed the Homily (note that in earlier days, as a rule, the Creed was not said). All the Fathers of the Church make mention of them. In the beginning, this prayer was recited antiphonally by the priest and the assembly. Over time the deacon took a more prominent role; he announced all the intentions and then the faithful responded, Kyrie eleison (Lord have mercy) or some other acclamation. You can read the Kyrie Litany of Pope Gelasius HERE.

These intercessions endured well past the close of the patristic period (until about the 9th century). Their disappearance seems to coincide with  their evolution into a Kyrie Litany and their transfer to the beginning of the Mass. Here, they eventually came to be regarded as an unnecessary appendage and were phased out. In the West they were retained only on Good Friday, though they endured in certain areas longer. In the East they were never dropped. Today they have been restored to their original place in the Mass.

Further pastoral reflections – These are called “general intercessions” since they extend beyond the needs and concerns of the local assembly. Please note, that they are NOT called the particular intercessions. What sometimes happens in more extemporaneous settings is that certain very particular needs get expressed and the list can become endless. Thus it is not appropriate here to pray, “For my Uncle Joe’s friend, who is recovering from hip surgery and having a hard time due to her diabetes.” It is more appropriate to pray, “For all who are sick or struggling in at this time.” The point is to keep it general; this is not the time for a full medical update on everyone’s cousin or sister.

Calling it the “Prayer of the Faithful” has some historical merit, since catechumens and others were dismissed before the proclaiming of the intentions. Today, however, it is also common to call them “general intercessions” since the whole Mass is really the prayer of the faithful. Through his opening prayer, the priest may link the intercessions to the reading, and through his closing prayer may summarize them. This can help to place them in a clear context. Singing the intercessions is a beautiful option and is surely of ancient practice (Cf Music in Catholic Worship # 74).

In the end, I think these intentions deserve better than we have given them. I realize that enthusiasts of the Traditional Latin Mass (of which I am one) may say, “Just lose them entirely.” But that is not realistic; they are here to stay, at least in our lifetime. Maybe we can do better and make use of multiple sources: ancient, Eastern, and new, though elegant. I am interested in your thoughts and also any references to good additional sources.

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Without Our Traditions, Our Life Would be as Shaky as a Fiddler on the Roof!

"PikiWiki Israel 17388 Fiddler on the Roof in Netanya" by צילום:ד"ר אבישי טייכר. Licensed under CC BY 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons.
“PikiWiki Israel 17388 Fiddler on the Roof in Netanya” by צילום:ד”ר אבישי טייכר. Licensed under
CC BY 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons.

When I was a young man, a teenager really, I did the usual crazy stuff of the early ’70s: had long hair, wore bell bottoms, wide ties, and crazy plaids, kept at least the top three buttons of my shirt open, and, of course, listened to rock-n-roll.

But through it all I had this love for older things. I think it had something to do with my grandmother, Nana, whom I loved with great affection. Often she lamented the loss of the old things and the old ways. She missed the Latin Mass; she missed when manners were better, when people remembered how to dress well, when things were more certain, when (as Archie and Edith sang at the beginning of All in the Family) “girls were girls and men were men.” She also missed when things were built to last and plastic was all but unknown.

Somehow her love for older things and older ways took hold in me, even as I indulged in the trappings of the silly seventies. My parents’ generation (born in the late ’20s and ’30s) and even more so the generation born after the War were somewhat iconoclastic generations. The motto seemed to be “Out with the old and in with the new … new and improved.”

I remember my mother often wanting to get rid of some old thing. I frequently volunteered to remove it and would then proceed to hide it in the attic instead. Old silver, Tiffany lamps, statues, and trunks began to fill our attic. In addition, I loved old buildings and hated the glass boxes that were being built in the ’70s. I remembered the old churches of my childhood in Chicago that “looked like churches” and lamented the “ugly modern church” of my ’70s suburb. And even though I liked rock music, I couldn’t stand the “hippie music” of the ’60s that predominated in the ’70s parishes: “Kumbaya,” “Sons of God”. Such dreadful lyrics, distributed to the congregation on mimeographed sheets: “… Gather around the table of the Lord. Eat his Body! Drink his blood! And we’ll sing a song of love, Allelu, Allelu, Allelu, Allelu-i-a!”

My grandmother often told me how much she missed the beautiful old songs, the incense, the veils, the priests in cassocks, and so many other things. Somehow she had my ear. I was sympathetic, hiding antiques cast aside from both my parents’ home and from the Church, too. I looked for the day when sanity would return and such cast-offs would once again be valued.

And that day has largely come. Much of the iconoclasm of the ’50s through the mid-’80s has given way and many older things are once again appreciated. As I brought some things down out of the attic in the early ’90s, my mother, strangely, appreciated them again. Other family members took some of the silver, etc. My Chalice was actually an old cast-off that I had restored. Statues have begun to return to churches; some of the old hymns have returned and the Latin Mass, once relegated to the cellar, has been dusted off and is now appreciated again by many, mostly younger, Catholics. I have also had the good fortune of being able to help restore two old churches to their former glory and to undo some of the iconoclasm from which they suffered. I even wear my cassock quite often.

For the record, I do not mind some of the more modern churches; some of them have a handsome simplicity. But nothing irks me more than to see a beautiful older church “renovated” to look like 1985, all whitewashed and stripped bare. Thankfully, I think that terrible era is largely ending.

But we have been through a time of it in the Church to be sure. Perhaps some things had to go “into the attic” for a time in order that they could be taken down again and appreciated anew. But whatever the reasons for the iconoclasm, especially of the 1960s, I sense we are now recovering a balance, a balance that does not reject the new but still appreciates the old, a balance that nods to a hermeneutic of continuity (of which the Pope speaks) rather than a rupture and radical discontinuity with the past, a balance of which Jesus says, Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a head of a household, who brings out of his treasure things new and old (Matt 13:52).

Many look back and wonder at the great rupture and cultural tsunami we have endured in the West. We wonder how and why. There are, of course, countless reasons, but I would like to single out just one: forgetfulness.

Traditions are established and endure for a reason. Fundamentally, they simplify life by giving structure, boundaries, and expectations. People know more easily how to navigate in the realm of tradition. But one sign that a tradition is in danger is when people come to forget its purpose, when people forget where it came from or why it is observed, when people forget what it means or symbolizes.

I wonder what would happen if I were to get into a time machine and go back to 1940 in this parish and ask people some questions: Why do women wear hats and veils while men do not cover their heads? Why do we kneel to receive Communion? Why is the Mass in Latin? Why does the priest face toward the altar? Why are all these things done this way? I suspect I would get answers like “I dunno, we just do it that way. Why don’t you ask the priest?”

In other words, I wonder if the first stage of losing a tradition is when it no longer makes conscious sense to people; when it is no longer clear to them why we do what we do; when all they can say about it is “That’s just what we do.”

At some point when we are dealing with traditions, we run the risk that they become wooden and rote, and we start sifting through the ashes of an old fire that has largely gone out. Unless we fan into flames the gifts of God’s love (cf 2 Tim 1:6), our love and appreciation of these things grows cold and their beauty fades. And then when someone asks, “What’s this thing?” we reply, “What, that old thing?” And thus the suggestion to “get rid of it” receives a cursory nod and the response, “Sure, that’s fine; get rid of it.”

But the process begins with forgetfulness. And forgetfulness leads to a lack of understanding, which then gives way to a lack of appreciation. All this culminates in an almost gleeful dismissal of the old things and the now-tarnished traditions that once sustained and framed our lives.

To be sure, some things need to fall away. Perhaps there is a time and place to “lose” things for a while, only to rediscover them later. But what we have experienced in the last 60 years has been more than this sort of natural process. It has been a rupture, a radical discontinuity that has shaken many of our foundations, Church and family especially.

Therefore we do well to “remember” many of our traditions. The word “remember” suggests a process of putting the pieces back together again, a process of collecting some precious things that have been severed from the body and making them once again “members” of the Body, the Church, and of our families. Remembering many of our lost traditions, even as we establish some new ones, is an important way of ensuring continuity with our past heritage and members.

Tradition is the “democracy of the dead” wherein our ancestors get a say in what we do. Tradition is a way to “remember” the Church, to honor the ways and practices of the ancients that my grandmother recalled with fondness and a sense of loss. And it was a loss, but a loss I pray we are beginning to remedy, as we remember the best of the past and recover our traditions.

I thought of all of this as I watched this video from Fiddler on the Roof. This was written at a time when the sweeping changes of the last 60 years were already underway. And this song “Tradition!” while it tips a hat to tradition, ultimately ridicules it by implying that tradition is the kind of thing that essentially keeps men in charge, women down, and forces children into arranged and unhappy marriages.

At a key moment in the song, Tevye is describing the tradition of the prayer shawl and says, “You may ask, ‘How did this tradition get started?’ I’ll tell you.” And then after a pause he says, “I don’t know, but it’s a tradition!” The first sign that a tradition is in trouble is forgetfulness.

But the musical (written in 1964) pretty well captures the iconoclastic attitudes emerging at the time that were cynical of tradition in a general sort of way. Despite that cynicism, Tevye rightly notes what we have come to discover only too well:

“Without our traditions our lives would be as shaky as a Fiddler on the Roof.” 

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Will the Real January 1st Please Stand Up? A Homily for New Year’s Day

123114This feast day of January 1st is a very complex tapestry, both culturally and liturgically. Perhaps we can use the second reading by St. Paul to the Galatians as a way to weave through some of the many details. We can look at it in three parts.

I. The chronology of our celebration – The text from St. Paul’s letter to the Galatians says, When the fullness of time had come …

Most people in the wider culture and in the Church are going about today saying, “Happy New Year!” And rightfully so, for it is the beginning of the new year. But most people think of New Year’s Day in almost wholly secular terms. Sadly, it is best known for excessive drinking and rather loud parties.

Yet it is a mistake to see New Year’s Day simply as a secular holiday. St. Paul reminds us, in speaking of “the fullness of time,” that all time and all ages belong to God.

It is not simply 2015; it is 2015 Anno Domini (A.D.). Even the most secular and unbelieving of people in the Western world locate their place in time in relation to Jesus Christ. It is 2014 years since the birth of Christ. Every time we write the date on a check or at the top of the letter, every time we see the date at the top of the newspaper or on our computer screen, that number, 2015, points back to Christ. He is the Lord of history. Jesus sets the date; He is the clock we go by. All time belongs to Him.

Jesus says in the book of Revelation, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, The beginning and the end. He who is, and who was, and who is to come” (Revelation 22:13).

If it is true that 2015 references the birth of Christ, the question arises as to why Christmas Day is not also New Year’s Day. But this actually makes a lot of sense if we understand liturgical and spiritual sensibilities.

In the Church, and stretching back into Jewish times, it was customary to celebrate the high feasts of faith over the period of a week. In Christian tradition this came to be known as the “octave.”  Though we think of a week as seven days, it does not take long to consider that we celebrated Christmas last week on Thursday. Now this week we celebrate New Year’s Day on Thursday, and Thursday to Thursday inclusive is eight days.

Thursday, January 1, 2015 is the eighth day of Christmas. In the Christian tradition the octave is considered really as one long day that lasts eight days. Therefore, Thursday, January 1, 2015 completes Christmas day; Christmas day is fulfilled. Or as St. Paul says, the “fullness of time” in terms of Christmas day has come. And thus the calendars flip from one year to the next. Now, at the end of Christmas day, our calendars go from 2014 to 2015 A.D.

The rest of the secular world has largely moved on already, barely thinking of Christmas anymore. As I walk in my neighborhood, I see the strange spectacle of Christmas trees already set out at the curb waiting to be picked up by the recycling trucks. Yes, for many in our hurried world, Christmas is over. But we in the Church continue to celebrate the great Christmas feast and cycle. Having completed the octave, we move on to Epiphany week.

Thus, this New Year, we contemplate the “fullness of time.” The passage of another year reminds us of the magnificent truth that to God all time, past, present, and future, is equally present. He holds all things together in Himself. He is the same yesterday, today, tomorrow, and forever. And whenever He acts, He always acts in our time, out of the fullness of time. This is a very deep mystery and we should ponder in silence the mystery that for God, all things ARE. He is not waiting for things to happen. For Him, everything is accomplished. I will write more on this in tomorrow’s blog.

II. The content of our celebration – St. Paul goes on to say, God sent forth his son born of a woman. And with this statement we are again reminded that we are still in the Christmas cycle.

We’ve already discussed the concept of the eighth day, of the octave. And while it is New Year’s Day, there is also a complex tapestry of religious meanings to this day as well.

As we’ve already seen, it is still Christmas day, the eighth day of the one long day that we call Christmas Day.

Historically, this is also the day of Christ’s circumcision. And for a long period in Church history that was the name given to this feast day, “The Circumcision of the Lord.” As I have written previously, I personally regret the loss of this feast, at least in terms of its title.

This is the day when Joseph and Mary brought Christ to be circumcised. In this, Jesus as man and also as God reverences the covenant He has made with His people. It is a beautiful truth that God seeks relationship with His people. And in this covenantal act of the circumcision is the moving truth that, as the Letter to the Hebrews puts it, Jesus is not ashamed to call us His brothers (Heb 2:11).

There is here the first shedding of blood by Jesus. It is also a sign of His love for us.

Another truth about the content of this feast is the Holy Name of Jesus. For not only was a Jewish boy circumcised on the eighth day, but he was also given his name, and all hear that name for the first time.

The name, Jesus, means “God saves.” And indeed this most Holy Name of Jesus, when used in reverence, has saving power. We are baptized in His Holy Name along with that of the Father and the Holy Spirit. And all of our prayers conclude with His Holy Name. Scripture says of His great and holy name,

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father (Phil 2: 9-11).

And yet another identity and content of this feast day is shown in its current, formal title, “The Solemnity of Mary Mother of God.” This title replaced the title of the Feast of the Circumcision back in 1970. However, it is the most ancient title for this feast day. Again, you can read more on this issue in a previous blog post.

We note in the reading that Paul says that God sent forth his Son, born of a woman. Jesus is the eternal Son of the Father; He is God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God. Jesus is God, and since Mary gives birth to Jesus, Mary is the Mother of God, because Jesus is not two different persons.

Mary did not just give birth to part of Jesus, she gives birth to Jesus. And thus the title “Mother of God” speaks to us as much about Jesus as it does about Mary. It is a title that she has because of the Church’s insistence that Jesus cannot be divided up into two different people. We cannot say that Mary gives birth to one Jesus but not “the other one.” There is only one Jesus, though He has two natures, human and divine.

And thus, on this feast of Christmas, on this eighth day of Christmas, we are reminded and solemnly taught that Jesus is human and also divine. In taking a human nature to Himself from his mother Mary, He remains one person. God has sent forth his son born of woman.

III. The consolation of our celebration – St. Paul goes on to say, Born under the law to ransom those under the law so that we might receive adoption as sons. As proof that you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son in our hearts crying out Abba, Father! So you are no longer a slave,  but a son, and, if a son, also an heir through God.

Note three things about this text:

A. Our Adoption – We have already noted that on the eighth day Jesus is circumcised and enters into the Covenant,  into the Law. In the Incarnation He joins the human family; in the Covenant He joins our family of faith. He will fulfill the old Covenant and inaugurate the new one. And by this New Covenant, by baptism into Him, we become members of His Body and thereby become adopted as sons.

We become sons in the Son. When God the Father looks to His Son, loving His Son, he is also looking at us and loving us, for we are in Christ Jesus, members of His Body through baptism. God is now our Father, not in some allegorical sense, but in a very real sense. We are in Jesus and therefore God really is our Father.

B. Our Acclamation – St. Paul says that the proof of our sonship is the movement of the Holy Spirit in us that cries out Abba! In Aramaic and Hebrew, Abba is the family term for father. It is not baby talk, like “Dada.” But just as most adults called their father “Dad” or some other endearment rather than “father,” so it is that Abba is the family term for father. It would be a daring thing for us to call God “Dad” unless we were permitted to do so, and instructed to do so by Christ.

St. Paul speaks of this word as proof that we are sons. In so doing, he emphasizes that it is not merely the saying of the word that he refers to. Even a parrot can be taught to say the word. Rather, St. Paul is referring to what the word represents: an inner movement of the Holy Spirit wherein we experience a deep affection for God the Father. By our adoption, our baptism into Christ, by our reception of the Holy Spirit, we love the Father! We develop a deep affection for Him and dread offending Him. By this gift of the Spirit, God is my Father whom I deeply love!

C. Our advancement – Notice that St. Paul then speaks of how we have moved from being a slave to being a son, an heir. In Jesus, we are not just any son, we are the only Son of the Father. And as Jesus has a kingdom from His Father, we too inherit it with Him! As sons in the Son, we are heirs with Jesus to the Kingdom!  Jesus speaks of His disciples as one day reigning with Him: And I confer on you a kingdom, just as my Father conferred one on me (Lk 22:29). In Jesus, all Heaven will be ours and we will reign with Christ forever. This is not our doing, not our glory; it is Christ’s doing and His glory in which we share.

And thus we have a very rich tapestry on this New Year’s Day, this feast of the Octave of Christmas, this Feast of the Circumcision of the Lord, this Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus, this Feast of Mary the Mother of God. And also we are given this feast wherein the glory of Christ is held before us and we who are  members of His body are told of the gifts that we receive by His Holy Incarnation and His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.

It’s not a bad way to start the new year: reminded of God’s incredible love for us, of His rich blessings and promises.

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Why is Christmas a Nighttime Event?

Cardinal Donald Wuerl serves as principal celebrant at the Christmas Mass at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception on Dec 25.O Holy night! Yes, a silent night! And it came upon a midnight clear. Christmas, it would seem, is a festival of the middle of the night. Jesus is born when it is dark, dark midnight. We are sure of it. And why not?

Even though we are not told the exact hour of His birth, we are sure it must have been at night. Scripture does say that the shepherds who heard the glad tidings were keeping watch over their flock “by night” (cf Luke 2:9). Further, the Magi sought him by the light of a star, and stars are seen at night—deep midnight. None of this is evidence that Jesus was born at 11:59 PM, but it sets our clocks for night—deep midnight.

Add to this the fact that Christmas is celebrated near the winter solstice, the very darkest time of the year in the northern hemisphere. More specifically, Christmas breaks in on the very days when the light begins its subtle return. The darkest and shortest days of the year make their appearance on December 21st and 22nd. But by December 23rd and 24th we notice a definite but subtle trend: the days are getting longer; the light is returning! It’s time to celebrate the return of the light; it’s going to be all right!

How fitting, now, to celebrate the birth of Jesus, the true Light of the World, in a deep and dark December. Jesus, our light, kindles a light and a fire that never dies away. Indeed, in the dark hours of December, we have noticed a trend. The light is returning; the darkness is abating; the days are growing longer from here on out. It is subtle now, but it will grow! And with the return of light, we celebrate our True Light: Jesus.

But light is best appreciated in contrast. We most appreciate the glory of light when darkness assails us. There’s just something about Christmas Eve. As the time approaches throughout December, and as the darkness grows, we light lights. All through December, as the darkness grows we light Advent candles, and we light more as it grows darkest! Even the secular among us string lights during dark December, in malls and on houses. It’s as if to say, the darkness cannot win; the light conquers!

Lights have their true glory in contrast to the darkness. Who sees the stars in midday? Who appreciates the beauty of light until he has experienced the darkness? Yes, Christmas is a feast of the light. We confront the darkness of December and declare to it, “Your deepest days are over; the light is returning.” And for us of faith, we say to a world in ever-deeper darkness, “Your darkness cannot remain. It will be overcome and replaced.” For though darkness has its season, it is always conquered by the light.

Light has a way of simply replacing the darkness. On December 22nd/23rd, the darkness begins to recede; the light returns and darkness diminishes. It is almost as if the darkness takes up the words of John the Baptist, He [Jesus] must increase, I must decrease. It seems subtle at first, but the light always returns; the darkness cannot last. In three months, the equinox (equal night and day) occurs, and in six months the summer solstice (the longest day) comes. And the darkness will once again seek to conquer. BUT IT ALWAYS LOSES. The light will return. Jesus is always born at the hour of darkness’ greatest moment. Just when the darkness is celebrating most, its hour is over; the light dawns again.

Yes, we celebrate after sundown on December 24th in accord with a tradition going back to Jewish times that our Feasts begin at sundown the night before.  Christmas morning is almost an afterthought. Most pastors know that the majority of their people have come the “night before.”  In a deep and dark December, a light comes forth, a star, and shines in the heavens.

We gather in and on a dark night. We smile. We are moved by the cry of a tiny infant, by whose voice the heavens were made. His little cry lights up the night. The darkness must go; the light has come; day is at hand.

Yes, we celebrate at night to bid farewell to the darkness. It cannot prevail. It is destined to be scattered by the Light that is far more powerful than it is, a Light it must obey, a Light that overwhelms and replaces it. Farewell to darkness; the Light of the World has come.

Jesus, the Light of the World.

The videos below are a celebration of light. As a Christmas gift to myself last December 22nd, the darkest day of the year, I took an afternoon off and went to photograph the triumph of light over darkness. I went to a Mausoleum—yes, to a place where thousands are buried in the walls. But also in those walls are windows, glorious windows where light breaks through and Christ shines forth. Some of the most beautiful stained glass in the city of Washington resides in that place of death and darkness. The light breaks through and it speaks of Christ.

These videos are a testimony to just some of those windows. In this place, a place of death, a light breaks through: the light of faith, the Light of Christ. The text of the music in this video is from Taizé, and it says, Christe lux mundi, qui sequitur te, habebit lumen vitae, lumen vitae (Christ, Light of the World! Who follows you has the light of life, the light of life). The second video features verses from the “Canticle of the Three Children” in the Book of Daniel.

As you view these videos, ponder that stained glass begins as opaque sand. But when subjected to and purified by the fire, it radiates the glory of light, which can now shine through it. So it is for us. Born in darkness, but purified by Christ and the fire of the Spirit, we begin to radiate His many-splendored Light shining through us to a dark world.

The Light wins. He always wins.