When I was a little boy, I figure about 5 years old, I first heard of a dialogue Mass. My Uncle Al, who was a retired priest of the Archdiocese of St. Louis, had come to Sedalia for a visit. One of the distinctive things about his visit was that we didn’t go to school that particular morning. Instead we got to sleep a bit later and all of us went in to celebrate Mass with my uncle at our parish Church. Then we all went out to breakfast.
It was just the six kids, my mom and dad, and my uncle presiding. Before Mass started, he reminded us to open our missalettes up, first to sing the opening song, and then to make sure we responded to his prayers. It was a time where Mass in English was still a fairly new experience. I was a bit disappointed because I couldn’t read yet so I wasn’t sure if I would be able to say what I was supposed to say.
My uncle did what was called a teaching Mass. He would stop b efore certain points of the Mass to explain what was going on. It really made a profound impression on me because for the first time in my life, I remember actually being a part of the Mass and not just a spectator or little kid lost in his own world, quiet, observant, but not really able to participate. When your family is the only congregation in a big church, it becomes pretty obvious if you aren’t participating.
Uncle Al stressed that we had an important part to play in the celebration of the Mass. He said, “You may think that you are talking with me when you say the prayers. But you really are talking with God. Speak up so He can hear you.”
I do remember standing next to my mother and her pointing out the different lines we were supposed to say. It was a pretty big blur, but I remember there was one line that I knew by heart: “Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. Speak but the word and my soul will be healed.” Today we say a version of this only once before the Communion Rite begins. Back then, we all said it three times. It was a line that I could memorize because by the third time, everyone else said it, I could also repeat it.
I hope it is clear that the people’s responses are important to me when I celebrate the Mass. I do really expect everyone to speak out and to sing loud. One way I am reinforcing this important liturgical practice is by drawing attention to the response of the people to the Universal Prayers. We change them up according to the season or solemnity to encourage us to be attentive to the prayers.
First, it is for me. Because I say many Masses, often two on one weekday, and three or even on occasion four on Sunday, it is easy for me to zone out. The Universal Prayers are meant to be heartfelt pleas to God for the needs of the Church, the World, and all those who are experiencing difficulty of any kind. They help us understand why Jesus offered himself in the Eucharist. Having to be mindful of the response is an invitation for me to truly make my prayer and the Eucharist I am ready to offer for those petitions an intentional act.
The words of the Mass are there to give flesh to the desires of our hearts and manifest the Incarnation: God speaks to us in His Word, but also in the Prayer of the Church of which the liturgy is the most privileged expression of what God want to say to us.
For this same reason, last Lent I chose to use Option B for the Penitential Rite. Because the introductory rites of the Mass happen fairly quickly, as we are developing situational awareness after arrival, the words of the rites can be a bit formulaic or less than intentional. One of the significant developments of the new form of the Mass was to add options here and there.
For centuries, the most emphasized value of the liturgy was uniformity throughout the Roman Rite. Before the Council of Trent’s reformation of the liturgy in response to the Reformation, there was a lot more diversity in the way Mass was celebrated.
With the new form of the Mass developed in response to the teachings of the Second Vatican Council, options were given. One reason was to demonstrate the rich diversity of the liturgical tradition of the Roman Rite throughout history. Adding other Eucharistic prayers that drew upon historical texts is one example of this. Option B of the penitential rite incorporates some dialogue that used to take place at the beginning of the Mass.
Another important principle was to invite the people’s participation in the prayers of the liturgy. Mind you, the dialogue Mass was not a new invention of the 60s. For well over a century, liturgists had been inviting the people to take a more active part in the dialogues and responses of the Mass, even in Latin, and not just leave them up to the altar servers or the choir. Liturgical norms were changed in the 1950s to allow for more participation, such as praying the Our Father with the priest.
One goal of liturgical renewal was to foster unity of body and soul. The sacraments are outward signs of an inward reality, and the interior disposition of the faithful during the celebration of the sacraments really matter. It is difficult for me to come to any conclusion about this, not really being old enough to have known the different form of the Mass nor having studied how the Mass was celebrated in detail or experienced by the faithful. But I think often about how our inner life and our outer words and actions are in sync or are disjointed. How difficult it is for any of us to be totally present to the moment at hand!
I have had many conversations about liturgical renewal and it seems that concerns center around uniting our hearts with the actions and words of the liturgy. There is a bit of a disagreement on just how does the liturgy express and engender holiness in the believer. I can’t really answer that question in a bulletin article, but I do believe that it is worth considering.
I just know that I find it a challenge to stay attentive and in the moment when I celebrate the Mass. I get distracted. I worry about safety, security, and health. I hear a noise, especially a big clunk and I wonder if someone fainted and needs assistance. I am preoccupied by concerns of what I have to do after Mass, later in the day or the next days.
So when I say at the Penitential Rite during Advent: “Have mercy on us, O Lord,” and I expect the people to say, “For we have sinned against you” then I am also inviting the congregation into a more intentional awareness of what is going on. Changing up the Penitential Rite during Advent or Lent is meant to highlight the seasons, which have penitential characters. This option is the simplest of forms and it also seems to fit well with the simplicity that Advent fosters.
Obviously. Most Catholics have never used this option at Mass for the last fifty years. Isn’t that weird? I’m not sure why. Perhaps change is harder than we think. Maybe two options are easy to understand and coordinate among the ministers. But three? That takes some collaboration, especially when the priest, the deacon, the musicians, and the people all have to pay attention to different cues.
For me it really is a lesson in situational awareness. We will switch to option C during the Christmas Season, and that will be a bit more familiar. I like Option C during these special seasons like Christmastide and Easter because the tropes (the little verses that get tacked on to the “Lord have mercies”) offer an opportunity to explore the themes of the readings and the truths that are celebrated in the season.
So for these last days of Advent, I invite everyone to pick up their missalettes and get more familiar with Option B of the Penitential Rite. I know it will help you enter into the spirit of that particular part of the liturgy when we beseech God’s mercy and forgiveness. We know we are never worthy enough to celebrate the divine mysteries, but God invites us to the banquet table anyway. The Penitential Rite celebrates that gift of mercy.