Covenants Renewed

Spring is the season of love. All of creation awakens: birds sing melodies of love, flowers emerge to embrace the sun, and June brides and grooms prepare to say “I do,” two small words that promise a lifetime of love. Our Elect and Candidates who await baptism, confirmation and Eucharist, are also preparing to say “I do” promising a lifetime of love. Along with them, the entire community prepares to say “I do,” recommitting to the promises made at baptism.

This is what Lent is all about, a 40-day retreat that prepares us to renew our baptismal covenant—our “I do” to the new covenant in Christ.

The focus on baptism in Lent is ancient. For the earliest Christians, Lent was a time to concentrate on penance and to prepare for baptism. Public penitents returned to be reconciled with the Church and adult catechumens made their final preparation for baptism. In later centuries, infant baptism replaced the baptism of adults. Because of this, the baptismal nature of Lent was diminished and overshadowed by a singular focus on penance. With the renewal of the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, the Second Vatican Council insisted that the focus of Lent once again be penitential and baptismal.

"The baptismal and penitential aspects of Lent are to be given greater prominence in both the liturgy and liturgical catechesis." Sacroscantum Concilium 109

The Church reminds us that

“The Lenten liturgy disposes both the catechumens and the faithful to celebrate the paschal mystery; catechumens, through the several stages of Christian initiation; the faithful, through reminders of their own Baptism and through penitential practices.” General Norms for the Liturgical Year 27

What we expect of the catechumens is that they have

“undergone a conversion in mind and in action and . . . have developed a sufficient acquaintance with Christian teaching as well as a spirit of faith and charity . . . (and) the intention to receive the sacraments of the Church.” RCIA 120

We who are already Catholic are called to a similar conversion as we prepare to recommit ourselves to our baptismal promises. Do you recall what you promised or what your parents and godparents promised on your behalf? We promised to reject the lure of evil and to embrace the love of God, with words as simple and profound as the words “I do.”

As any married couple knows, it takes a lifetime to realize the meaning of the words “I do.” These words have to be lived out and rediscovered day by day. Each Lent the Church asks us to ponder fully the promises behind these words so that our “I do” at Easter may be sincere and wholehearted. As we prepare to renew our baptismal covenant may we, like creation, awaken to new life, that we may sing the melody of God’s love to all the world.

Silence and The Liturgy

As a former intern coordinator in Washington D.C., I had the opportunity to visit Gallaudet University. Gallaudet is the only University where all programs are specifically designed for students who are deaf or hard of hearing. I witnessed students interacting, collaborating, socializing, storytelling, even laughing—all in complete silence. I have never experienced the power of silence as I did that day.

Perhaps my experience at Gallaudet was magnified because the society in which we live thrives on noise. The first thing many of us do after starting our car is to turn on the radio. Not long after we walk into our houses, we turn on the radio or the television. When we go for a walk or a run, we are usually listening to music instead of the sounds of nature. It is a challenge to strike up a conversation in a public place as most people are clad with headphones or ear-buds. 

Oddly enough, our hunger for silence grows. Coffee shops are filled with patrons seeking a hushed atmosphere. Silent retreats are booked with visitors trying to get away from the noise and chaos of everyday life.  Practices that foster inner peace, such as yoga and tai chi are as popular as ever.

The season of Lent invites us to spend some time in silence. One of the ways we can do that as a community is by experiencing silence in the liturgy. Though our liturgy is filled with the “holy” noise of words, prayers, and music, the liturgy also calls for silence—especially after the proclamation of the Word of God, the Homily and Holy Communion. As in life, we need a balance of sound and silence in our liturgies. Our Mass is so rich and overflowing with meaning, we need silence to digest it all. The liturgy invites us to be quiet, not only as individuals, but as a corporate body who, like the student body at Gallaudet, knows how to be with and for each other—even in silence.

Hunger, Fullness and The Eucharist

Hunger is such a natural instinct we hardly give it a thought. Being hungry can mean anticipating, craving, longing, yearning, desiring, aspiring and hoping. There is always room for more.

Being full, on the other hand, can mean feeling uncomfortable, bloated, lethargic, drowsy, listless, heavy, passive, slothful and slow. There is no room for more.

When it comes to sharing in the body and blood of Christ, I wonder, are we hungry or full? This was a question implied in a letter written by Pope St. John Paul II in 1980 on the “Mystery and Worship of the Most Holy Eucharist.” The Pope was concerned that unlike decades past, everyone was now going to communion (emphasis added). He didn’t say this was a bad thing. He was merely trying to stimulate our awareness of what we do when we share in Christ’s body and blood by saying, “If our eucharist is authentic, it must make us grow in the awareness of the dignity of each person.”

That awareness of the dignity of all human beings begins with ourselves. Are we aware of our own dignity? Are we aware of how God sees us? Are we aware of how much God hungers for us? God anticipates, craves, longs and yearns for us. The Eucharist is an expression of God’s love which seeks to be one with us. When we partake in the sacred meal, God becomes ever more a part of us and we ever more a part of God. The Eucharist is a reminder that we are “oned” with God, as the great mystic Julian of Norwich put it.

The Eucharist is also a reminder that we are united to the community of believers, an understanding that was highlighted in a famous sermon to the newly initiated by St. Augustine.

“So now, if you want to understand the body of Christ, listen to the Apostle Paul speaking to the faithful: ‘You are the body of Christ, member for member.’ (1 Cor. 12.27) If you, therefore, are Christ's body and members, it is your own mystery that is placed on the Lord's table! It is your own mystery that you are receiving! You are saying ‘Amen’ to what you are: your response is a personal signature, affirming your faith. When you hear ‘The body of Christ’, you reply ‘Amen.’ Be a member of Christ's body, then, so that your ‘Amen’ may ring true!

May we who so casually and freely approach the table of the Lord realize what it means to say “Amen,” what it means to grow in the awareness of the dignity of each person, that our “Amen” may ring true!

Liturgy's Ebb and Flow

“Foot down, hand forward, shift your weight.” These are just a few of the cues often uttered by our tai chi instructor. Tai chi, the ancient Chinese Martial Art, is practiced by millions all over the world as a form of gentle exercise. It is believed to help its practitioners reduce stress, ease joint pain, enhance mindfulness, and improve balance. Tai chi is a series of distinct postures that flow one into the other without stopping. This is one reason tai chi is often called meditation in movement. Whenever I look at a group practicing tai chi, I am mesmerized. The group moves together in a constant flow of perfect synchronicity. The easeful transitions between the postures make the entire exercise look like one continuous movement. The unity of the group transforms ordinary movements, gestures, and postures into something that is powerful and profound. The ancient tradition behind tai chi, the meaning connected to each posture, and the benefits of the exercise help to form and transform practitioners.

Like tai chi, our liturgy is a sequence of distinct postures, gestures, and movements. We stand, we sit, and we kneel. We speak, we sing, we listen, and we remain still in a collective silence. Every moment of the liturgy transitions or flows into the next. The gathering song and the procession into the church flow into the opening greeting, which flows into either the Penitential Act or the Sprinkling Rite, and so forth. We who practice the same ritual patterns in the liturgy, like those who practice tai chi, become more and more in sync with one another.

The scientific word for this is entrainment. Entrainment was first discovered in 1665 by Dutch physicist Christian Huygsen while working on the design of the pendulum clock.

Huygsen placed two clocks, with pendulums swinging at opposite rates, near each other. He found that eventually the pendulums synchronized with each other, swinging at the same rate. Entrainment has been used in everything from astronomy to music. It has helped the scientific world to prove that two opposite oscillating bodies can have enough influence on each other to vibrate in harmony.

We could say the liturgy is a form of ritual entrainment. Our ritual patterns transform ordinary movements, gestures, and postures into something that is powerful and profound. The rituals in our liturgy synchronize us so that together we can be more attuned to creation, to each other, and to God whose very breath began to swing the first pendulum of life.    

Liturgy: A Sensual Experience

Japanese restaurants where the food is prepared in front of hungry guests is a favorite with adults and children alike. That’s not necessarily because the food is extraordinary, but more so because our senses are stimulated by what happens before we eat. When we watch the talented chefs chop, flip, or twirl our ingredients, when we hear the sizzle of the savory meat and fresh vegetables on the grill, when we smell the bouquet of flavors, we can just about taste the food before we put the first forkful in our mouths. When we eat the food, we enjoy it because our senses have already triggered our expectations.

Scientists believe the more we can engage all of our senses when we eat, the more we will enjoy our food. The Church has known this for years. That’s why our liturgies engage all of our senses, so that we might better enjoy our Eucharistic meal.

Think of the last time you went to Mass. What did you smell? What did you touch or what did you feel? What did you hear? What did you see? What did you taste? When we reflect on these questions, we get a glimpse into the sensual experience of liturgy.

When we walk into the church, we smell flowers, candle wax, and perhaps incense. We touch holy water and then touch our forehead, our heart, and our shoulders as we make the sign of the cross. If the sprinkling rite is used, we feel the touch of the water on our bodies. We hear the sounds of music, the words of Scripture, and the sound of a community at prayer. We see our fellow parishioners and the liturgical ministers. We see the environment, the church décor and the colors of a particular liturgical season. If incense is used, we see its smoke rise up as a sign of our prayers ascending to God. We taste the bread, the Body of Christ, and the wine, the Blood of Christ.

When it comes to a more solemn liturgy, such as the Easter Vigil, we experience a sensual banquet. The fire lit in the darkness of night captures our senses of smell and sight. The words of salvation history and the music woven throughout the liturgy of the word animate our aural sense. Then we experience the sacraments of initiation, the colorful parade to the font, the encounter between the blessed water and the Elect, the smell of the balsam in the Sacred Chrism, and the touch of the minister as he anoints the forehead of the newly baptized with the holy oil. All of this helps to prepare the entire community to celebrate the Sacred Meal of Easter.

Liturgical rituals and symbols work through our senses to help us to see, to hear, to smell, to feel, and to taste a mysterious and invisible God. We who experience the presence of God through our senses are called to use those senses to make God present in the world, to see with eyes of love, to listen with ears of compassion, to touch others with hope, to be the “aroma of Christ for God,” (2 Corinthians 2:15) and to flavor the world with life-giving love.