Quinceaneras
In the Latino tradition when a girl turns 15 she marks the transition into adulthood.
In the Latino tradition when a girl turns 15 she marks the transition into adulthood. This coming of age is often ritualized by a blessing within a Mass known as a quince años, Spanish for 15 years, and the girl who celebrates her quince años is called a quinceañera.
Due to the influx of immigrants from Latino countries, the number of quinceañeras has grown, and they are big business. It is estimated that the average quinceañera costs between $5,000 and $20,000, creating a multi-million dollar industry.
The exact origin of the quince años is unknown, but it likely has its roots in indigenous rites of initiation for both boys and girls who reached an age of maturity. The celebration was a rite of passage between childhood and adulthood. For whatever reason, the tradition of initiating girls survived while the rite for boys died out. The ritual was Christianized by missionaries and came to mark an important step in the faith journey of the young woman.
According to Martha Beatriz Garcia, coordinator of the Quinceañera Ministry at St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church in Alpharetta, Georgia, and Idalia Garcia, who is on the team, the quince años, while optional, is a pledge of faith at a crucial turning point in the life of the young girl. “At this age, the girls start to make their own decisions, some of them will leave home to go to college and they need to reinforce their commitment to stay close to God,” says Beatrice.
Prior to the celebration, the girl, her parents, godparents, and others attend formation sessions and retreats that focus on what the quince años is all about. “We really want them to understand that it’s not just to prepare a party,” says Idalia, “It really is about giving their lives to God, helping them to recognize that they need the Holy Spirit to continue their faith journey.”
Victoria Sanchez, who celebrated her quince años three years ago, said it’s easy to get caught up in the materialistic parts of the day while ignoring the religious aspects. “You grow up going to quinceañeras and you see the girls who are so pretty and everything is perfect and you think, ‘I want that.’ At first it was all about the party and the dress, but I remember walking into the church and hearing the music and that filled me with happiness. After communion, I looked at my mother and saw how she was praying. I knew she was praying that God would guide me because at 15 you enter high school. It’s a big turning point and a lot of things are thrown at you.”
Victoria’s mother, Maria Olivia Mejia, didn’t have the opportunity to celebrate her own quinceañera in her native Mexico, at least with the same extravagance that takes place in the United States. Neither did Beatrice nor Idalia, both of whom are also from Mexico. They say their parents simply couldn’t afford it, but they are excited to be able to offer that opportunity to their daughters. According to Beatrice, embracing the tradition helps her to stay connected to home. “We live in another country, but we have the same faith. It’s important to live here as we would live there.”
The quinceañera, while popular in Mexico, is also celebrated in other Latin countries like Brazil, Colombia, and Guatemala. Each culture may incorporate its own traditions into the ceremonies.
Typically, the girl, wearing a lavish ball gown, arrives at the church with her parents, godparents, siblings, and court of honor, which includes female attendants called damas and male attendants called chambelanes. During the Mass, the teenager renews the promises made at her baptism. She is blessed and is presented with religious gifts such as a Bible, a crucifix, or a medal, which are also blessed. The quinceañera usually leaves a bouquet of flowers before the statue of the Blessed Mother. After Mass, all the guests gather for a reception that includes traditional foods and ceremonial dances.
As much as the day appears to be about the quinceañera, it is also a day that unites families and communities. Gabino Iniguez, whose daughter Stephanie recently celebrated her quinceañera, said the tradition helps parents to let go and to entrust their daughters to God’s care, “For me it means she is not my little girl anymore, there is a new woman in the world.”
Doorways
As children of a mother obsessed with having a clean house, we were encouraged to take off our shoes whenever we entered our house. While it was inconvenient for us, it did keep the floors clean and it kept Mom happy, but there was a deeper meaning.
As children of a mother obsessed with having a clean house, we were encouraged to take off our shoes whenever we entered our house. While it was inconvenient for us, it did keep the floors clean and it kept Mom happy, but there was a deeper meaning. The simple ritual of taking off our shoes at the doorway made that threshold a place of transition between the outside and the inside, between the public and the private, between the formal and the familiar. Taking off the protective cover for our feet also marked the doorway as a point of vulnerability.
Doorways and the actions that precede and follow them symbolize thresholds of change. The first time we enter the doorway of our college dormitory or whenever we go through the door of the delivery room to have a child or when we walk under the airplane doorway to fly to a job interview, we discover that doorways are more than what meets the eye. Doorways mark transitions in our lives.
In a similar way, the Church uses doorways to mark transitions in our spiritual lives. The Rite of Acceptance into the Order of Catechumens in which the catechumens are signed with the cross takes place outside the doors of the church. When they enter the sanctuary, this marks the transition of one who was an outsider to one who is now part of the household of faith. The beginning of the Rite of Baptism for Children also happens at the entrance of the church where the child is named and signed with the cross on the forehead. They then process into the church as a sign that the child is welcomed into the family of God.
In the first form of the Introductory Rites for the Order of Celebrating Matrimony the ministers are to greet the bridal party at the church entrance and lead them in a procession to the altar. Crossing the threshold at this point in one’s life marks the transition from being a solitary individual to being united with another in married love.
In the Order of Christian Funerals, the body or the cremains are sprinkled with holy water at the doorway before being brought into the sanctuary to signify the passage from death to new life.
The Rite of Dedication of a Church begins at the entrance of the church building, marking the doorway as the place of transition between the global community and the community of believers.
These rituals which are performed at the doorway of a church convey a new beginning in the lives of the faithful. The doorways become pivotal thresholds that mark rites of passage of those who transition from outsider to insider, from one state in life to another, from death to new life.
Moving through such doorways takes courage. These thresholds are places of vulnerability and uncertainty. When we go through these doorways, the only thing we know for certain is that life as we know it will never be the same.
The beauty of celebrating these rites of passage in the context of a community of believers is the assurance that we don’t proceed alone. In the Rite of Acceptance, the godparents and the community walk with the catechumens. In the Rite of Baptism for Children, the parents and godparents accompany the child. In the Order of Celebrating Matrimony, the ministers and the bridal party escort the couple. In the Order of Christian Funerals, the family accompanies the body or the cremated remains to the altar, and in the Rite of Dedication of a Church the entire community enters together. The community represents God who journeys with us through every threshold.
May we, assured of God’s presence at every doorway, have the faith to go wherever God calls us.
Liturgical Sources
“Google it” is one of our most common contemporary catchphrases. We use Internet search engines like Google, Yahoo, and Bing along with the online encyclopedia Wikipedia as our go-to sources for just about everything: the latest news and weather, sports scores, recipes, and answers to all sorts of questions—everything from “What time is it in ______?”to “How do I tie a tie?” to “What is the best way to lose weight?” Knowledge is literally at the tip of our fingertips.
“Google it” is one of our most common contemporary catchphrases. We use Internet search engines like Google, Yahoo, and Bing along with the online encyclopedia Wikipedia as our go-to sources for just about everything: the latest news and weather, sports scores, recipes, and answers to all sorts of questions—everything from “What time is it in ______?”to “How do I tie a tie?” to “What is the best way to lose weight?” Knowledge is literally at the tip of our fingertips.
Have you ever wondered what we use as our go-to source for Mass? How does the priest and deacon know what to say and when? How do we know when to stand and kneel and sit and process and sing? All of these answers are found in the Roman Missal. The Roman Missal is the book used mainly by the priest at Mass. It contains not only the prayers for Mass, but also instructions on how to conduct the Mass.
How did we get those prayers and those instructions? Who or what was the source of our sourcebook? The answer is there were many sources that influenced our prayer. Some of our practices stem from ancient culture. The vestments worn by the priest and deacon, for example, were commonly worn as outer garments in ancient Rome.
Some of our sources originated with leaders of the early church. Many of the prayers we pray, for example, are rooted in ancient texts written by early Christian theologians.
Another source was a Christian pilgrim named Egeria, whose observations of liturgical practices in fourth century Jerusalem have influenced our Holy Week liturgies to this day.
While all of these sources helped to shape our liturgy, our primary source is the Scripture. The words of Jesus at the Last Supper, “Do this in memory of me,” became the cornerstone of our liturgical prayer. We come together to hear the words of Scripture and to do what Jesus commanded us to do, to take, bless, break, and share the sacred meal in remembrance of him.
Other Scripture passages are woven throughout the liturgy. The sign of the cross which begins and ends the Mass comes from the Gospel of Matthew.
“Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” (Matthew 28:19)
The first line of the Gloria echoes the words of the angels upon the announcement of the birth of Christ to the shepherds.
“Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”(Luke 2:14)
The first part of the Sanctus, the Holy, Holy, Holy comes from the Book of the prophet Isaiah and the Book of Revelation:
“In the year King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a high and lofty throne, with the train of his garment filling the temple. Seraphim were stationed above; each of them had six wings: with two they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they hovered. One cried out to the other: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!’” (Isaiah 6:1-3)
“The four living creatures, each of them with six wings, were covered with eyes inside and out. Day and night they do not stop exclaiming: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty, who was, and who is, and who is to come.’” (Revelation 4:8)
The second part of the Sanctus comes from the Book of Psalms and the Jesus’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem in the Gospel of Matthew.
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” (Psalm 118:26)
“The crowds preceding him and those following kept crying out and saying: ‘Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest.’” (Matthew 21:9)
The Lord’s Prayer is from Matthew 6 and Luke 11.
The sign of peace is rooted in Matthew.
“Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift there at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” (Matthew 5:23)
The words we pray before Communion echo those of the Gentile centurion who asks Jesus to come to his house and heal his servant.
“The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed.” (Matthew 8:8)
“And Jesus went with them, but when he was only a short distance from the house, the centurion sent friends to tell him, “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof.” (Luke 7:6)
These are but a few examples of the Scriptural sources of our liturgical prayer. May we who hear and pray these texts be a living word of witness to the hope they express.
The Canticle of Zechariah
Summer is officially in full swing! Swimming pools are brimming with children, airplanes are filled with seasonal travelers, and almost every afternoon in Atlanta, a thunderstorm kicks up its heels.
Summer is officially in full swing! Swimming pools are brimming with children, airplanes are filled with seasonal travelers, and almost every afternoon in Atlanta, a thunderstorm kicks up its heels.
In the midst of Summer Ordinary Time the Church celebrates the Nativity of John the Baptist on June 24, which falls on Sunday this year. We observe the nativity of John the Baptist near the summer solstice, which heralds the beginning of shorter days and longer nights. On the other hand, we celebrate the birth of Jesus around the winter solstice, the beginning of shorter nights and longer days. Thus John’s words which announce the coming of Christ, “He must increase; I must decrease,” are echoed in the cosmos.
To mark today’s solemnity we will sing the Benedictus, also known as the “Canticle of Zechariah,” found in the Gospel of Luke (1:68-79). Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, sang this canticle following the birth of his son. Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth were well past the age of childbearing when the angel Gabriel announced that his wife would bear a son. When Zechariah doubted the news, he was rendered mute, but when his son was born, Zechariah’s eyes were opened, his heart was changed and his tongue was freed to utter these words:
“Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,for he has visited and brought redemption to his people.He has raised up a horn for our salvation within the house of David his servant, even as he promised through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old: salvation from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us, to show mercy to our fathers and to be mindful of his holy covenant and of the oath he swore to Abraham our father, and to grant us that, rescued from the hand of enemies, without fear we might worship him in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. And you, child, will be called prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give his people knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God by which the daybreak from on high will visit us to shine on those who sit in darkness and death’s shadow, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” Luke 1:68-79
Zechariah’s prophesy foretold the good news of Christ’s birth to a world that was in chaos and in danger of losing hope. His words offered the certain hope that God keeps God’s promises.
Those who pray the Liturgy of the Hours know these words as an integral part of Morning Prayer. Morning after morning the Church, like Zechariah, declares the faithfulness of God.
When our faith waivers, may these words reassure us of God’s presence and may our tongues be freed to utter a song of profound praise.
Ordinary Time
As we were dismantling the Easter décor in the church, a friend walked by and expressed her disappointment in removing the festive adornments of the Easter environment.
As we were dismantling the Easter décor in the church, a friend walked by and expressed her disappointment in removing the festive adornments of the Easter environment. “I hate Ordinary Time,” she said. She was referring to the weeks in the liturgical year that fall in between more solemn seasons such as Lent and Easter. There are two periods of Ordinary Time during our liturgical year. Summer and fall Ordinary Time take place after the Easter season and before Advent. Winter Ordinary Time falls after the Christmas season and before Lent.
The word ordinary in this context doesn’t mean common, mundane, or humdrum. Ordinary comes from the Latin word ordinal as in ordinal numbers. Ordinary Time is simply the way the Church counts the weeks in between the other liturgical seasons.
If we keep our eyes and ears open, we might notice that there is nothing ordinary about what we do at Mass—even during Ordinary Time! Consider the way ordinary objects are used in the liturgy: books are lifted high, furniture is kissed, bread and wine are blessed. Ordinary activities take on new meaning, walking becomes processing, reading becomes proclaiming, singing becomes praising. We who live ordinary lives are treated with extraordinary reverence. We are blessed, incensed, sprinkled with holy water, lathered with sacred oil, and fed with the body and blood of Christ. We too take on a new meaning as a human assembly becomes a divine body.
Our very gathering at the beginning of Mass teaches us that God first loved us enough to call us God’s own people. Our Penitential Act tells us that God waits with open arms to embrace us with mercy. In the liturgy of the Word we hear how God’s faithfulness accompanied humankind throughout salvation history. In the liturgy of the Eucharist we celebrate God’s love in gifting us with his Son, Jesus. Our sending forth declares that God trusts us ordinary human beings with the extraordinary work of being God’s hands and feet in the world.
The simplicity of the season of Ordinary Time bids us pause to see, to hear, and to experience the extraordinary goodness of God.