Msgr. Klaus Gamber, the German liturgical historian, remarked that the danger of the priest’s “facing-the-people” innovation in the Mass was that the priest would begin to think that he was an actor or master of ceremonies, not the mediator facing, with all the people in supplication, the same Lord and God. The priest would think himself, God forbid, a Phil Donohue, some actor or MC whose function it was to rouse the crowd.
I was thinking of this after attending noonday Mass one day this summer in a Midwestern city. As it was an historic church and I had some time, I thought it might be nice to attend. It is always nice for a priest to see how Mass is said and attended in a new place. Actually, one learns a lot about the local bishop by observing how his priests say Mass.
This downtown church drew a goodly number of folks, some businessmen and secretaries during their lunch break, some elderly, a smattering of other types not easily identified. In this diocese, I was pleased to note, that, except perhaps in religious houses, people knelt for the Canon and after the Agnus Dei. The priest who said the Mass was formal, gave a good, brief homily. He did not make up any parts of the Mass with his own words or interpretations. He did not feminize any of the great prayers or conjure up his own words of consecration.
However, after giving the final blessing, with its “Go, this Mass is ended” and “Thanks be to God,” he began to leave the altar, heading for the sacristy door. Suddenly, for no earthly reason that I could ascertain, he stopped, turned to the congregation and, rather sheepishly, added, as if he had forgotten one of the essentials of modern priestly life, “Have a nice day.” I almost laughed out loud, it was so inappropriate. The Mass is to begin and end with Christian greetings. On the streets, we wish an innocuous “nice day,” but not at Mass. Its final words are, “Go, the Mass is ended.” “Thanks be to God.”
Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger recently addressed the Italian bishops about the Mass. The question was whether the Mass was to be made more “missionary.” This gave Ratzinger an opportunity to explain something about the Mass that is too rarely understood or taught. Often we see signs on church bulletins that say, of services, “All Welcome.” The implication is that either nothing will take place in this service that can offend anyone or that the service is designed to bring new members into the flock.
Using the example of a group of Russian diplomats who once attended services in Byzantium, Ratzinger pointed out that the Mass is not “for something else,” to make converts or political action. The Mass is itself. It holds its own sphere of time and space. It is not a community meeting or greeting. It is the worship of God. Nor is it to be the worship of God after the manner of something that the local clergyman or some committee dream up. It is the memorial, the sacrifice. The Mass is necessarily suffused with correct teaching or it is not the Mass. It is how we worship God as he asked us, not how we worship God as we think he might like it after our own personal or cultural designing.
Probably one of the worst things that has happened in the Church in recent years, as a result of this tampering with the Mass, is that many, if not most, Catholics have had to go shopping for a Mass they like, either for one they think orthodox, or one that is in fact orthodox, or one that is less than orthodox. With strict standards of liturgical and doctrinal integrity, every parish or church provides the same Mass. Now, many Catholics are unsure or think that they can and often must shop.
No more dire need is found in the Church than a re-establishment of liturgical integrity and doctrinal understanding of the Mass, one binding bishop, priest, and congregation. The Mass is not something else. It is not a forum for the priest’s musings or display of his personality, nor is it an experiment station for a liturgical committee. Its central and essential reality is the worship of God, the Father. It is not a concert or a sing-along. It is the most serious of our actions around which the meaning of the world revolves. It has its own glory, as Ratzinger recounts of the Russian diplomats’ reaction. By being itself, it recognizes what ultimate glory is, something that can be learned or experienced nowhere else in creation.