Excerpt: Vesting Prayers

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 10:44 PM


Vesting Prayers

Over time, the sacred vestments accrued various interpretations.  An eighth century Greek document provides a symbolism for all the priestly vestments.  In the West, similar works of interpretation were written in the ninth century in Gaul (modern France).  The first type of symbolism was moral:  the vestments symbolized the virtues to which their wearers aspired (e.g. humility, chastity, charity).  The second type, which was not very widespread, interpreted the vestments allegorically:  they were the armor of the priest, a warrior of God, waging a spiritual battle at the altar.
By the twelfth century, the vestments acquired a third, dogmatic type of symbolism:  the priest is Christ’s representative, and his vestments refer to certain dogmas pertaining to Christ (e.g. the Incarnation, His two natures, His virtues, etc.).  The dogmatic symbolism lacked references to His Passion and death, which first appeared in the thirteenth century in a fourth type of symbolism, which could be called “representative.”  This type of symbolism became very popular because it was the easiest to express and to understand:  each vestment represents something Christ wore during His Passion and death, from shroud placed over His head (the amice) to the cords used to bind Him (e.g. the cincture).  The priest is thus visually configured to Christ, Whose ministry he is carrying out.
Along with these interpretations, prayers were developed for the priest to say as he put on each vestment.  The vesting prayers in the Roman Rite evoke the Scriptural imagery of being dressed with the “armor of God” (Eph. 6:11)[1] to varying degrees.  The sacred vestments are meant to remind the priest (and the congregation) of the sufferings which Christ endured, because they are analogous to the garments He wore during His Passion; they also mystically signify the virtues which enable the priest to fulfill his ministry in faithfulness to God.  The four types of symbolism – moral, allegorical, dogmatic, and representative – can be woven together to create a rich tapestry which can produce great spiritual fruit for the priest or layman who contemplates it.
While the modern Roman Missal contains prayers of preparation and thanksgiving for the priest, it does not currently contain these vesting prayers.  I think the whole Church (and especially her ordained ministers) would benefit from the use of these prayers, and if their inclusion in this book contributes to a resurgence of their use, then thanks be to God!


[1] Four passages referring to spiritual armor are Wisdom 5:17-20; Isaiah 59:17; Ephesians 6:10-17; and 1 Thessalonians 5:8.

Excerpt: Lamb of God

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 2:29 PM


“Lamb of God”

After the Sign of Peace, the priest or choir intones the Lamb of God, the Agnus Dei:
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi:  miserére nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi:  miserére nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi:  dona nobis pacem.

Lamb of God,                                                               Gen. 22:8; Ex. 12
you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.                 Lev. 16:21
Lamb of God,                                                                             Rev. 5:6
you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.                   John 1:29
Lamb of God,                                                          1 Cor. 5:7; 1 Pet. 1:19
you take away the sins of the world, grant us peace.            John 14:27; 20:26
While this ancient chant is being sung, the priest is performing the Fraction Rite, breaking the primary Host into fragments.  This represents the breaking of Christ’s body (though not His bones, cf. John 19:32-36) on the cross, and it calls to mind the breaking of the bread which Jesus did at the Last Supper and at Emmaus.  The Agnus Dei can go on as long as needed to accompany the Fraction, singing the first verse as many times as necessary (at least twice), but the final verse is always “Lamb of God … grant us peace.”
Every time we say that Jesus “take[s] away the sins of the world,” we should be aware that we are speaking in the present tense, not the past tense.  This is a reminder that Christ’s work of redemption is continual and ongoing:  the Mass is offered for the expiation of our sins.
We should remember that, after the consecration, Jesus Christ is present sacramentally on the altar in the Eucharist.  This prayer, then, is addressed directly to the Blessed Sacrament visible before our very eyes.  Recalling the death He endured for our sins, we humbly beg Him to show us His abundant mercy and to give us the peace which the world cannot give. (cf. John 14:27)  By addressing Christ in the Eucharist this way, we remind ourselves of the price He paid that we might be able to receive Him in Communion; we are also reminded that Jesus takes away the sins of the world, not just our sins. (cf. 1 John 2:2)
The priest quietly says a prayer after the Fraction as he places a small piece of the Host into the Chalice.  Just as the separate consecration of the bread and wine was a sign of the separation of Christ’s body and blood – His true bodily death – this mingling of the Host and the Chalice is a sign of the reunion of His body and blood (or His body and soul) at His Resurrection.

Excerpt: Vestments

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 11:26 PM


Vestments
The Old Testament describes the liturgical worship of God carried out by Israel, and liturgical worship did not disappear with the inception of the new covenant in Christ’s blood.  In fact, St. John’s apocalyptic vision of the heavenly liturgy describes Jesus dressed in priestly attire standing in the midst of priestly furnishings, a sign of continuity between the Old and New Covenants:  “Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden girdle round his breast.” (Rev. 1:12-13)  Jesus is also seen wearing a golden crown. (cf. Rev. 14:14)  God is seated on a heavenly throne appearing “like jasper and carnelian” and surrounded by “twenty-four elders, clad in white garments, with golden crowns upon their heads.” (Rev. 4:3-4)  At the end of the book of Revelation, John sees the new city of Jerusalem descending from Heaven and he identifies twelve particular stones which adorn its walls. (cf. Rev. 21:10, 19-20)
All of these details are related to the worship of God as carried out by Israel before the Temple was destroyed in AD 70.  God commanded Moses to have holy garments made for Aaron (the high priest) and his sons (the other priests): “a breastpiece, an ephod, a robe, a coat of checker work, a turban, and a girdle.” (Ex. 28:4)  On the turban was set a golden crown. (cf. Ex. 29:6)  The Israelites were also to make a golden lampstand (what is called today a menorah) holding seven lamps to be in the tent of worship. (cf. Ex. 25:31-37)  King David arranged Aaron’s descendents, the priests of Israel, into twenty-four divisions. (cf. 1 Chr. 24:1-19)  These priests wore robes of fine white linen.  Twelve precious stones were embedded in the breastplate of Aaron, the high priest; these stones almost exactly match the stones seen by John in his vision. (cf. Ex. 28:17-20)
What does all this mean for new covenant worship?  In the letter to the Hebrews, we read that Israel served God in “a copy and shadow of the heavenly sanctuary” (Heb. 8:5) while Jesus has entered “the sanctuary and the true tent which is set up not by man but by the Lord.” (Heb. 8:2)  This comparison is explained further in Hebrews 9.  The new covenant in Christ’s blood has replaced the “copy and shadow” with the sacrament, a tangible reality which makes present what it signifies.  The vision of Jesus in high priestly attire vindicated Israel’s worship, showing that it did point to a true heavenly reality.  While the vestments worn by the priest in Catholic liturgy are not sacraments (that is, they do not confer grace), they are still signs of the heavenly liturgical worship of God which is made present in the Mass.
The liturgical vestments of the Church have developed over time, just as her liturgical rites have developed.  Even in the earliest days of the Church, Christian priestly vestments were not derived from the Jewish religion, but developed from the secular manner of dress in the Greco-Roman world.  The Mosaic cult’s use of liturgical vestments is probably the reason why the Church retained the use of clothing reserved for her worship, but that is where the contribution ends, as far as vestments is concerned.
In the Roman Rite, there are several sacred vestments worn during the Mass as signs of the ministerial office of certain members of the Body of Christ.  The common vestment to all ordained and instituted ministers is the alb worn with a cincture around the waist (unless the alb is made to fit without it).  Beneath the alb, if it does not cover the ordinary clothing at the neckline, an amice should first be put on.  Over the alb is the stole, worn over both shoulders for priests, but only over the left shoulder (bound at the right hip) for deacons.  The vestment proper to a priest celebrant is the chasuble, worn over the alb and stole.  The vestment proper to a deacon is the dalmatic, worn over the alb and stole.[1]  Acolytes, Lectors, altar servers, and other lay ministers may wear the alb, but they may not wear a stole, dalmatic, or chasuble, which are proper only to ordained ministers. (cf. GIRM 119)


[1] Although the dalmatic may be omitted out of necessity or on account of a degree of lesser solemnity, it is praiseworthy to refrain from omitting it.

Excerpt: Preparing for Prayer

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 1:26 PM

(This is the first in a series of excerpts on the sacred vestments of the priest. These excerpts will appear in the second volume on new translation, Praying the Mass: The Prayers of the Priest.)


I
 grew up in northern New Jersey, and my family attended Mass at the parish of St. Luke’s in Ho-Ho-Kus.  I was an altar boy there for several years, but it was only recently, while visiting the pastor, that I noticed a bronze plaque on the sacristy wall, above a sink.  The words on this plaque are Latin, but I was able to piece together its meaning based on a few cognates and a smattering of Latin vocabulary:
Da Domine virtutem manibus meis
ad abstergendum omnem maculam
ut sine pollutione mentis et
corporis valeam tibi servire
It means, “Give, O Lord, virtue to my hands, to be cleansed from all stain, that I might serve you without corruption of mind or body.”  These words are above the sacristy sink because they are the words of the traditional prayer spoken by the priest as he prepares to celebrate Mass:  they are the prayer during which he washes his hands.
While certain elements of Catholic worship are reminiscent or evocative of daily life, they are, at the same time, set apart from secular or profane associations:  they are consecrated for divine purposes, often by means of prayers and blessings.  So it is with the seemingly mundane (that is, “worldly”) chore of “getting dressed” for Mass.  The priest does not just wash his hands; he does not just toss on a clean alb and secure it with a rope; he does not just grab whatever stole and chasuble suits his mood.  Instead, the preparatory actions of the priest are accompanied by prayers which speak of a spiritual battle and a heavenly mystery unfolding here on earth in the life of the priest.
Why does the Church “dramatize” such preliminary activities?  The answer can be found on another sign on a sacristy wall in Emmitsburg, Maryland.  There, in the Basilica of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, the priest sees these words:  “Priest of God, celebrate this Mass as if it were your first Mass, your last Mass, your only Mass.”  This is a solemn reminder to the priest to be aware of the sacred mysteries dispensed at his hands and to pay attention.  Mass should not be celebrated casually, but with due reverence and devotion.  The sanctuary is not a stage for the priest, nor is the altar a prop.  The priest is not an entertainer and the Mass is not a show.  He is a minister of Christ, the High Priest, ordained to renew and offer, sacramentally, the once-and-for-all sacrifice of Christ.  The words in the sacristy of the Basilica, like the words in the sacristy in St. Luke’s church, are meant to remind the priest of this profound truth.

Excerpt: The Confiteor

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 1:00 PM


Form A, “I confess…”
Form A [of the Penitential Act], known as the Confiteor (the first word of the prayer in Latin), is a penitential prayer in two parts.  The first part of this prayer is an act of confession of personal sin to God, in the midst of the whole assembly.

Confíteor Deo omnipoténti et vobis, fratres,
quia peccávi nimis cogitatióne, verbo, ópere et omissióne:

I confess to almighty God                          Ps. 51:5-6; Luke 15:18; 1 John 1:9
and to you, my brothers and sisters,                                               Jas. 5:16
that I have greatly sinned                                                        2 Sam. 24:10
in my thoughts and in my words,                                   Wis. 1:3; Jas. 3:8-10
in what I have done and in what I have failed to do,    Rom. 7:15-20; Jas. 2:17
Although it is said by all the congregation together, it is a personal prayer.  The Confiteor is one of only three places[1] in the Mass where we pray in the first-personal singular (I) rather than the first-person plural (we).  We confess our sins not only to God but to all those present.  Talk about accountability!  Even though we are not naming our sins to those around us, we are admitting our guilt to them.  The Confiteor is inspired by David’s sorrowful plea for mercy in Psalm 51.
We confess that our sins are of thought and word, of omission and commission.  Jesus never had an evil thought, never spoke an evil word (not even when He was chastising the Pharisees for their blindness), never did anything wrong, and never failed to do the right thing.  It’s a tough act to follow, but with the grace of God – which comes to us especially through frequent sacramental Confession and reception of Holy Communion – we can be built up “to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” (Eph. 4:13)
The first half of the Confiteor ends with an admission of personal guilt for our sins.  As we say these words, we strike our breast three times in a sign of penitence:

mea culpa, mea culpa, mea máxima culpa.

through my fault, through my fault,                                              Sir. 20:2b
through my most grievous fault;
The repetition of this admission of guilt adds to its severity.  We do not say “The devil made me do it, the devil made me do it, you can bet the devil made me do it,” but accuse only ourselves for our sins.  We beat our breast with a closed fist, like the tax collector who prayed from his heart, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” (Luke 18:13)  Concerning the gravity of these words and this gesture, Cardinal Ratzinger wrote:
We point not at someone else but at ourselves as the guilty party, [which] remains a meaningful gesture of prayer. … When we say mea culpa (through my fault), we turn, so to speak, to ourselves, to our own front door, and thus we are able rightly to ask forgiveness of God, the saints, and the people gathered around us, whom we have wronged. (The Spirit of the Liturgy, p. 207)
Rev. Romano Guardini explained that the meaning of this gesture of contrition depends upon it being done properly:
To brush one’s clothes with the tips of one’s fingers is not to strike the breast.  We should beat upon our breasts with our closed fists. … It is an honest blow, not an elegant gesture.  To strike the breast is to beat against the gates of our inner world in order to shatter them.  This is its significance. … “Repent, do penance.”  It is the voice of God.  Striking the breast is the visible sign that we hear that summons. … Let it wake us up, and make us see, and turn to God. (Sacred Signs)
The Douay Catechism (from 1649), a question-and-answer catechism on the doctrines of the Church, included a chapter expounding the essence and ceremonies of the Mass.  It explains that the reason for striking the heart is “to teach the people to return into the heart” because it “signifies that all sin is from the heart, and ought to be discharged from the heart, with hearty sorrow.” (p. 125)
In the second half of the prayer, we invoke the communion of saints as we ask for the prayers of the whole Church:

Ideo precor beátam Maríam semper Vírginem,
omnes Angelos et Sanctos, et vos, fratres,
oráre pro me ad Dóminum Deum nostrum.

therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin,[2]                  John 19:26-27; Jas. 5:16
all the Angels and Saints,                                Heb. 12:1,22-24; Rev. 5:8; 8:3-4
and you, my brothers and sisters,                               1 Th. 5:25; 1 John 5:16
to pray for me to the Lord our God.                        1 Sam. 12:23; Bar. 1:13
In Hebrews 11, we are given a tour of God’s Hall of Fame, a list of men and women who, by their faith in God, “received divine approval.”  The list includes Abel, Noah, Abram, Sarah, Joseph, Moses, and Rahab.  At the end of the list, we read:
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb. 12:1-2)
We learn something very encouraging from this passage:  the saints in Heaven are witnesses to our lives on earth, witnesses who cheer us on and pray for us, that we might endure the trials of this life and join the saints in Heaven having won “the crown of life which God has promised to those who love him.” (Jas. 1:12)  The prayers of the saints and angels in Heaven are of great worth to us, because the saints have been perfected and have “washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Rev. 7:14) and the angels rejoice greatly when a sinner repents. (cf. Luke 15:7)  See chapter 7 (“Profession of Faith”) for more about the communion of saints.
But we don’t only ask the Church Triumphant (in Heaven) for their prayers, we also ask one another for prayers.  The next time you say these words at Mass, take a moment to look at the people around you:  you are asking these people, sinners though they are, to pray to God for you, a sinner.


[1] The second is in the Creed (“I believe…”, chapter 7), but it is used for a different reason there.  The third is the “Lord, I am not worthy…” (chapter 11)
[2] The Confiteor expresses the faith of the Church in the perpetual virginity of Mary.

Final draft copy in the mail

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 10:58 PM

What should be the final draft copy (assuming nothing goes wrong in the printing process) of my book is in the mail. Hopefully, I'll have it by Wednesday of the next week, which means the book will be "in print" (available for purchase) on Thursday, September 10th. I'm very excited!

Banners for my book

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 5:14 PM

(Update: 9/8) Please update your links to my banners as shown below. I have not been able to count on the reliability of Google's image hosting.

In an effort to spread the word about my book, I've come up with a few simple and elegant (or so I think...) banners that you can use on your web site to help advertise my book. All you need to do is choose the banner you like and copy the code beneath it into your blog article or other web page.  If you decide to link to the image on your own (instead of copying the code), be sure to link back to http://www.PrayingTheMass.com/ for me!

760 x 75 Banner (shown smaller than actual size)

468 x 60 Banner

300 x 150 Banner

240 x 240 Banner

Excerpt: Thanks be to God

Posted by Jeffrey Pinyan at 9:44 AM

“Thanks be to God.”
When the reader or Lector finishes the First (or Second) Reading and says “The word of the Lord,” we respond:
Deo grátias.

Thanks be to God.                                                    Rom. 7:25; 2 Cor. 9:15
What are we thanking God for when we say “Thanks be to God”?  The two passages referred to, from Romans 7 and 2 Corinthians 9, give us some insight.
In Romans 7, St. Paul writes about the internal struggle we all face, even after Baptism:  we do the evil which we do not want to do, and we do not do the good which we want to do:
I do not understand my own actions.  For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. … I can will what is right, but I cannot do it.  For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. … So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand.  For I delight in the law of God, in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members.  Wretched man that I am!  Who will deliver me from this body of death?  Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!  So then, I of myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. (Rom. 7:15-25)
This conflict between his “inmost self” (his soul which has received an indelible mark in Baptism) and his “members” (his flesh which is still under the power of his earthly desires) is common to all of us:  the term the Church uses for it is concupiscence, the tendency of human nature to sin as a result of our inability to subordinate our desires to the dictates of reason.  Faced with his own wretchedness, St. Paul thanks God for His Son Jesus Christ who delivers him from his “body of death.”
In 2 Corinthians 9, St. Paul is writing about the generosity of the people of Corinth.  The Corinthians were such zealous and ready givers that he had bragged about them to others in Macedonia.  He tells them that their generosity is only possible because of God’s generosity:  “God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that you may always have enough of everything and may provide in abundance for every good work.” (2 Cor. 9:8)  He concludes:
You will be enriched in every way for great generosity, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God; for the rendering of this service not only supplies the wants of the saints but also overflows in many thanksgivings to God.  Under the test of this service, you will glorify God by your obedience in acknowledging the gospel of Christ, and by the generosity of your contribution for them and for all others; while they long for you and pray for you, because of the surpassing grace of God in youThanks be to God for his inexpressible gift! (2 Cor. 9:11-15)
Three times he speaks of thanks to God:  thanksgiving for His great generosity of grace, the “inexpressible gift” of God.
It is for these two things that we say “Thanks be to God” at the end of the readings from Scripture.  First and foremost, we recognize that in the Scriptures being proclaimed, we are hearing God’s word which the Holy Spirit inspired various men to put into writing.  In Scripture, the phrase “the word of the Lord” means, quite simply, a revelation directly from God.  In Jesus, this word of God is enfleshed:  Christ is the Word-made-Flesh.  As Vatican II said in the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation, Dei Verbum (DV), Jesus Christ “is both the mediator and the fullness of all revelation.” (DV 2)
Secondly, we acknowledge the pure love that God shows for us in bestowing His “surpassing grace” upon us, that we may hear His word proclaimed to our ears.  Jesus said “blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear” (Matt. 13:16), and again, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” (Luke 11:28)  St. John begins his book of Revelation with these words:  “Blessed is he who reads aloud the words of the prophecy, and blessed are those who hear, and who keep what is written therein.” (Rev. 1:3)  There are many eyes and ears in the world that go without reading or hearing the Sacred Scriptures; as we thank God for His grace, we must not forget the mission of the Church to spread the Gospel throughout all the world.
Such a small phrase – “Thanks be to God!” – is an important and powerful prayer which you can offer in many situations throughout your day.  We often fall into the trap of thinking that prayer has to be a long, drawn-out, distinctly liturgical process:  kneeling beside your bed for ten minutes before bed, saying an Our Father, a Hail Mary, this prayer, that prayer, etc.  While liturgical and ordered prayer is a wonderful thing, do not let the unpredictability of your day prevent you from offering up little “darts” of prayer to Heaven:  “Jesus, I trust in you!”  “Jesus, thank you for your mercy and your love!”  “Thanks be to God!”