Tomorrow we will be taking my daughter Mary Kate to the airport, as she embarks on her new life with the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist community in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

We've seen this coming for awhile, but I'm not sure anyone is ever quite ready to have their teenage daughter do something like this. But make no mistake: Mary Kate is ready. As for my readiness, I haven't been so sure!

Speaking of readiness, check out this recent interview given by one of the "oldtimers" entering the Dominican community this weekend--a 2010 summa cum laude Harvard graduate! 

Anyway, last Sunday at Mass many emotions were running through my head. While I honestly can't think of anything better she can do with her life--and I'm so proud of who she is and of her generous response to Our Lord's call--I was still feeling a sense of loss.

Fr. Anthony chose Eucharistic Prayer III. I really like this particular Eucharistic Prayer. One phrase that has had rich meaning for me through the years is, "Father, hear the prayers of the family you have gathered here . . ." as I've written frequently on the image of the Church as the "family of God," as well as on the "parish family."

But last Sunday it was the next line that really struck me:

"In mercy and love unite all your children wherever they may be."

Even though Mary Kate will be in a cloister nearly a thousand miles away, we will still be united in God's mercy and love, particularly through our participation in the Eucharist and in the life of the Church in general (a "communion of saints" thing). This is another one of those teachings to which we give notional assent, but every now and then we have moments in which a truth of the faith penetrates us in a more real, experiential way. I'm not really "losing" my dear Mary Kate at all!

Now, I'm the Dick Vermeil of Catholic fathers (I've cried all 23 times I've seen It's a Wonderful Life, if that's any indication), so I'm sure I'm going to shed some more tears. But they will be tears of joy and thanksgiving. 

It's all right here in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (nos. 2232-33):

"Family ties are important but not absolute. Just as the child grows to maturity and human and spiritual autonomy, so his unique vocation which comes from God asserts itself more clearly and forcefully. Parents should respect this call and encourage their children to follow it. They must be convinced that the first vocation of the Christian is to follow Jesus: "He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me" (Matthew 10:37). . . .

"Parents should welcome and respect with joy and thanksgiving the Lord's call to one of their children to follow him in virginity for the sake of the Kingdom in the consecrated life or in priestly ministry."

Through His sacrifice on the Cross, Christ conquered sin and death once and for all. So why do Catholics seemingly sacrifice Christ over and over again at Mass?

I'm sure many of us have heard this question at one time or another. The key is to understand that the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross and the sacrifice of the Mass are the same, single sacrifice. Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross brought about “objective” redemption—in other words, the possibility of salvation for all people of all time. No other sacrifice is needed.

The sacrifice of the Eucharist, commonly called “the Mass,” does not repeat or multiply this sacrifice, then, but rather makes present this one, definitive sacrifice of Christ here and now in our local parish church. This brings about what we call “subjective” redemption—in other words, the application of the merits of Christ’s sacrifice to individual men and women.

In continually offering the sacrifice of the Mass (cf. Mal. 1:11), the Church fulfills the command of the Lord Jesus to “do this in memory of me” (Lk. 22:19). Through the sacrifice of the Mass, we are able to partake of the Body and Blood of Christ, without which we have no life in us (cf. Jn. 6:53-56).

For more information on this topic, see Catechism of the Catholic Church, nos. 1362-72. I also highly recommend my friend Thomas Nash’s book, Worthy is the Lamb, on the biblical roots of the Mass.

Last Sunday my family had a most spiritually uplifting experience at a parish church we were visiting. As we discussed our experience we came up with many things that we liked, including the beautiful church building, traditional music, solid homily, and overall sense of reverence.

My children noticed one additional factor that made a difference to them (and to my wife and me). Namely, the faithful in the pews were dressed modestly and well--in their “Sunday best”--a phenomenon not experienced in many parishes anymore.

There are many motives for dressing up for Sunday Mass. We want to make the Lord the priority in our lives. More specifically, we understand Sunday Mass to be the high point of our week. What does it say when we put more effort into dressing up for work or school or company than we do for the Lord Himself?

The Catechism discusses the issue in the context of preparation for the worthy reception of the Eucharist: “Bodily demeanor (gestures, clothing) ought to convey the respect, solemnity, and joy of this moment when Christ becomes our guest” (no. 1387).

Further, a restored sense of modesty should inform the way we present ourselves in public, especially at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. During the hot summer months, there is a tendency to “underdress” for Mass, and pastors and parents alike do not sufficiently address this issue. (Bishop Yanta did do a very good job of this a few years ago in this pastoral letter.)

Here I would like to provide an additional incentive to dress well for Mass. I suggest that we consider our Sunday clothes to be a kind of vestment. We rightly associate “vestments” with the special clothes worn by the priest and other ministers on the altar. Yet, the word “vestment” comes from the Latin verb vestire, which more generally means “to clothe.”

How would we feel if our parish priest processed down the aisle at the beginning of Mass wearing a tank top, shorts, and flip flops? Of course we’d be offended, and rightly so. As the General Instruction of the Roman Missal provides, “vestments should . . . contribute to the beauty of the rite” (no. 297). The flip side is that the lack of appropriate attire on the part of the priest takes away from the beauty of the rite.

When it comes to the lay faithful, the Church in our time has emphasized that our common Baptism is ordered to our full, conscious, and active participation in the liturgy. How we conduct ourselves, even the way we dress, is an outward expression of our interior disposition to enter fully into the liturgical action as a participant, and not as a mere spectator.

So, I would suggest that instead of merely throwing on a t-shirt and jeans that we would see getting dressed for Mass as a type of vesting. It can be part of our proximate preparation for Mass and indeed a concrete way in which we prepare to offer ourselves in union with Our Eucharistic Lord (Rom. 12:1). And surely the way that we prepare and carry ourselves can be an edifying witness to others, who in turn may be encouraged to follow "suit."

Do clothes make the Mass? No. But how we prepare ourselves, including conscious decisions regarding our attire, is an important first step toward fostering a renewed sense of reverence in our own backyard and indeed in our own hearts.

This article originally appeared, in slightly modified form, over at the CUF blog.  

A couple discussions in recent weeks have reminded me of one of my pet peeves in the area of liturgy: namely, the "lay homily."

Now, I should clarify that I have no problem whatsoever with the Church's teaching that all of us, according to our state in life, are called to preach. Hey, I do it here at this blog. Through our Baptism, we are all called to be "prophets" or heralds of God's Word to others. 

And we all have different gifts. Some people are more eloquent, convincing, and "dynamic" as speakers than others. Some lay people have more better oratorial gifts than some priests. No argument there.

Still, the Church very clearly forbids the giving of homilies by lay people (see below). Now, most places that have lay people giving the homily don't call it that. Rather, they call it something else, like a "Gospel reflection." Yet, if it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and even takes the place of a duck, then for all intents and purposes, it's a duck.

Okay, you might say, the Church is pretty strict about lay homilies, and yes, some dioceses and parishes play a little fast and loose with the rules. But what's the big deal? More...

On most Sundays we just manage to get our large household to Mass only a few minutes before it starts. By the time I say a short prayer, we're standing for the opening hymn and then we're off and running.

Today we were more punctual than usual, so after some private prayer I sat back in the pew and started thinking about a variety of things, For some reason, I thought about a particular section from the Catechism of the Catholic Church that I've pondered for many years, which basically says that actions follow beliefs--or lack thereof.  And a parallel between the Eucharist and marriage on this point hit me like a ton of bricks: More...

The proliferation of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion (which is the proper name for them btw, not "Eucharistic ministers") probably has generated more confusion and questions than any other Mass-related issue I've encountered in recent decades.

I devoted a chapter of my 2004 book Faith Facts II: Answers to Catholic Questions, entitled "A Matter of Distribution" to this controversial topic, and surely the discussion found there is just as vaiid now as it was when the book was published.

Later in 2004, the Vatican Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments, the administrative body that oversees the sacred liturgy around the world, issued an instruction entitled Redemptionis Sacramentum ("Sacrament of Redemption") on certain matters to be observed or avoided regarding the Most Holy Eucharist. In layman's terms, this document was meant to end a lot of the problematic practices that had found their way into the celebrations of the Mass in some places, including here in the United States. (Some might say, especially here in the United States.)

Redemptionis Sacramentum provides a clear, authoritative instruction concerning the use of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion in nos. 154-60. I can do no better than to provide that section here: More...

Communion under both species means receiving both the consecrated bread and the consecrated wine at Mass. The faithful usually have the opportunity to receive the consecrated bread, or host, at Mass, while they may or may not have the opportunity to receive consecrated wine from the chalice. When they do, they are said to be able to receive the Eucharist “under both species” or “under both kinds.”

While the consecrated bread is called “the Body of Christ” and the consecrated wine is called “the Blood of Christ,” as is evident from the words of the consecration, the fact is that the Body, Blood, soul, and divinity of Christ is present under either form. So when we receive the sacred host, More...

Before addressing the specific question about the manner of receiving Holy Communion, let’s briefly provide a little context.
 
The Mass has two principal parts, or movements: the Liturgy of the Word followed by the Liturgy of the Eucharist. As the name suggests, the Liturgy of the Word involves the proclamation of Sacred Scripture, further illuminated by the ordained minister in the homily. God’s Word should create in us a burning desire to receive Jesus—the “Word made Flesh”—in Communion (see Luke 24:28-35).
 
The Liturgy of the Eucharist has three parts. First, the gifts are presented and prepared. Then there is the Eucharistic Prayer, during which the gifts are consecrated and become the Body and Blood of Christ. The Liturgy of the Eucharist culminates with the Communion Rite, during which we have the opportunity to receive Jesus in the most intimate way we can in this life.
 
So how does the Church expect us to come forward to receive Jesus during the Communion Rite? More...

One question that arises even before the reception of Communion is the posture of the faithful during the Eucharistic Prayer. Older readers will remember that until recent decades the universal practice throughout our country was to kneel. However, in recent decades, some dioceses and parishes have moved to standing during the Eucharistic Prayer, in some instances leading to the building of new churches without kneelers (and the removal of kneelers from existing churches).

Now some proponents of standing proclaim that "we are a Resurrection people" and standing is an appropriate posture of divine worship. They further contend that kneeling is a penitential posture which isn't appropriate for this part of the Mass. Those who prefer kneeling cite not only its traditional usage, but also the utter propriety of kneeling as a posture of adoration before Our Lord, truly present in the Eucharist.

In addition, our society is very affluent and self-sufficient, and so we tend to suffer from a lack of reverance and awareness of the divine, as we can see from various polls. So, without judging any individuals, an unwillingness to kneel could be a symptom of an even deeper spiritual issue. Who is our God? Jesus Christ or ourselves or our idols? Before whom--or what--will we pay homage?

So what's the answer to today's question? What are the faithful supposed to do during the Eucharistic Prayer? Here's what the Church says: More...

In working for Catholic organizations over the past sixteen years, I've had the privilege of answering hundreds, if not thousands, of questions concerning the Catholic faith. I have to say that the questions I've liked the least were the ones involving liturgical infractions or abuses. As I dearly love the Mass, I was always sympathetic to people who had real concerns about what was going on in their parish.

Even so, I found that it was always most helpful to turn the question around. Rather than focus on the wayward priest, the scantily clad reader (with heels), the plethora of extraordinary ministers, or the flamboyant music director, I tried to get the questioners to look more at their own attitude and how they could use their situation as a means of growing in Christian holiness. (That didn't always go over very well!)

Yet, even with this renewed focus, and with extensive admonitions about exercising virtue and restraint, eventually I had to get to the substance of the concern, at least as it was described for me. This was often painful to do, because More...

Over the years I've received many questions regarding the liturgy. While some of these questions may have been driven by some illicit or odd practice that was going on in their parish, the fundamental question of many sincere Catholics can be boiled down to this: What is the laity's role in the liturgy?

In this short post I can't provide a comprehensive answer, but I can point you to some Church teachings that shed considerable light on the subject. More...

In the Disney film Lion King, when the lion cub Simba is born, he is lifted before the throng of animals, and all of them (as well as animated animals can) kneel or bow out of reverence before the child who one day would be their king.

Reverence is the virtue that empowers us to give appropriate honor and respect to others, especially to God. Since it is a virtue, or habit, certain practices help us to grow in reverence, which is a necessary building block for growth in Christian holiness. Some such practices are part of Church law and practice, such as kneeling during the Consecration at Mass, when Our Lord becomes truly present on the altar. Other traditional practices are well established in Catholic piety and devotion, such as genuflecting before a tabernacle, bowing one's head at the name of Jesus during the Hail Mary (cf. Phil. 2:5-11), and maintaining a respectful silence in God's house before and after Mass.

Much more can be said about the nature of reverence and the many ways we can foster it in our families and parishes. Here I'd simply like to point out one opportunity at Mass that is frequently missed. More...