Liturgy -Italian Style

In Italy, one might expect to encounter an extraordinary liturgy, after all, Italy’s roots in the Catholic Church are long and deep. Since the very first century, Christians have called Italy home and so have countless trailblazers of the faith including our own patron, St. Thomas Aquinas. Rome, the capital of Italy, encircles the Vatican, the governing authority of the Catholic Church and the residence of the Pope.

Catholicism permeates the culture in Italy. Walk into any classroom, hospital or government office and you are sure to find a crucifix hanging on the wall. The saints, especially the Mother of Jesus, play a noticeable role here. Pictures and statues of the Madonna, usually with the child Jesus, are painted on the exteriors of homes and appear in roadside grottos and mini shrines. Holidays are determined largely by the liturgical calendar. None of this is any indication that the faith here is alive or active. For example, none of the thousands of students I met in the past four months knew that Carnival takes place in February or March because it is the feasting before the fasting of Lent. To them, Carnival is simply another Italian cultural tradition.

More than 25,000 Catholic parishes, the largest number of any country, dot the landscape in Italy. Church buildings here range from quaint country chapels to majestic cathedrals. Pick your favorite style of architecture-- Gothic, Baroque or Romanesque and you will find that here. The interior of the churches in Italy, with opulent sanctuaries, ornate frescoes, statues, paintings and relics, resemble museums more than houses of worship. In any given week, churches in Italy are more filled with tourists than with worshipers. In all of my experiences of Sunday Mass here, the churches weren’t even half full.

Stumbling Blocks to Worship-Finding a Sunday Mass.

In Italy, it is easier to find a church in which to worship by walking than it is to find one via the world wide web. Many churches are located in town centers and open out onto large squares or they are established on top of a hill and are easily visible. Churches in the small towns where I worked often didn’t have websites, making it a challenge to find a Sunday Mass. Thank goodness most churches have a bell tower that rings around the clock, calling the locals to prayer. As long as I heard those bells I was able to find a church and a Mass.

Hospitality

Hospitality ministers are few and far between in Italy. Rarely, if ever, was I greeted or welcomed when I walked into a church. Many churches did, however, have worship aids for the prayers but not for the songs—if there was music at all. In about half of the churches there was no music and so the lector served as both cantor and lector, leading a few of the Mass parts a cappella. Needless to say, this made for an impoverished worship experience but it  gave me a greater appreciation for and affirmed the value of liturgical music and liturgical musicians.

Language

Though I can speak enough Italian to get along, my progress was hampered by the fact that until May 1 everyone in Italy was required by law to wear masks, making it difficult to hear and to understand what they were saying. Since most of the churches have very high ceilings the sound was cavernous, (even with microphones) proving even more of a challenge to grasp words. Luckily, the Scriptures were usually the same as those that were being proclaimed back home, so I could read along in English or look at them before or after Mass. The challenge of praying in Italian shed light on the role of language in worship. When the language of prayer is inaccessible, unfamiliar or distant, then, God, too, can seem inaccessible or distant. The experience also gave me a new sensitivity to immigrants at our doorstep who long to pray in their native tongue—whatever that may be.

A Different Rite and Different Practices

Whenever I participated in a Mass in or near Milan, I experienced the Ambrosian Rite. The Ambrosian Rite is named for St. Ambrose, a fourth century bishop in Milan. It differs from the Latin Rite celebrated in Roman Catholic Churches in the United States in several ways:

1.     It has its own cycle of readings.

2.     Many of the priestly prayers are unique to this rite.

3.     All of the lectors, not only the deacon, are blessed before they proclaim the Word.

4.     The sign of peace takes place before the presentation of the gifts, reflecting more closely Matthew 5, “If you bring your gift to the altar and recall that your brother has anything against you… go first and be reconciled… then come and offer your gift.”

5.     In the Ambrosian Rite, the creed is professed after the presentation of the gifts.

6.     The Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy) is said before the final blessing.

7.     At the end of Mass, the priest simply says, “Go in peace,” and the people respond,

“In the name of Christ.” 

In all of the Masses in which I participated, laypersons served as lectors, altar servers, ushers and musicians, but the distribution of Holy Communion was reserved for ordained priests.

A New Perspective

This experience of celebrating Mass in Italy these past four months has been disappointing in many ways but has given me new perspectives on the Church in Italy and the Church in the United States. I am biased but I believe the liturgies and perhaps the Church in general in the U.S. is far more alive. Sometimes it takes a venture outside our comfort zones to realize and appreciate what exists in our own backyard.