Well, this year I did it. I got up in the middle of the night to get ready to go to church for La Danza and Las Mañanitas - the pre-dawn Mexican cultural celebration for Our Lady of Guadalupe. I have wanted to to this for a while, and as the vice chair of our Pastoral Council, I kind of felt I should do this. Maybe I missed them, but the only other "Anglo" I saw in the room besides myself was my pastor, who speaks fluent Spanish. I, on the other hand, speak only a little, understand maybe half of what I hear, and felt a bit like the proverbial tourista.
As I came into the back of church, I recognized Oscar, a talented musician who directs and plays with the 1:00 p.m. Sunday Spanish choir - dressed in full regalia - complete with feather headdress. He smiled and mugged for my camera. Later, he took his place beside the altar and began to beat the drum that summoned about 30 colorfully dressed dancers, mostly women and teens, to the front. For the next 25 minutes they stamped, swayed, spun and shook maracas, in honor of the Virgin, as Oscar drummed out various rhythms. Their performance was beautiful, strange and a bit primitive. Certainly like nothing I have ever seen in church before. The colorful costumes seemed a bit skimpy for a December day in the Midwest, but soon the dancers were mopping their brows from their exertion, despite the chilly room.
Once they had finished, Rosalinda, a parish reader and fellow member of Pastoral Council, stepped up to the microphone and read a long text about the story of Juan Diego and the Virgen. Then, a seven-man mariachi band came up and began to play and sing. I know enough Spanish to know that many of these were, in effect, love songs to the Virgin, singing of her as the "queen of hope" and identifying themselves as Guadalupano, people of Guadalupe - her children. The people joined in most of these,singing by heart and from the heart. Of course, having no music and not knowing them, mostly all I could do was listen and add in the refrain occasionally, when I could pick it out. I could sense their great love, even if I could not fully understand the texts.
Throughout the hour and a half of the pre-Mass celebration, some women, from the back of the church shouted out phrases that seemed to have set responses, almost as if they were cheerleading. I have to admit, this morning was a strangely fascinating if rather foreign experience. I felt a strange sensation of being an outsider, yet not a total stranger. It's my parish, but it's their parish too. Despite the language and culture gap, we all belong, in our own way, to the community of St. John the Baptist. The Virgen is my mother in faith too, even if by adoption. Maybe someday, I will feel more at home with the whole thing. Until then, I will keep stretching my comfort level to join them when I can.
Brothers and sisters: Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. (1 Thes: 16-17)
On this, the Third Sunday of Advent, the apostle Paul issues us a challenge to be joyful and prayerful - in all circumstances. That, frankly, can be difficult as the holidays approach - especially for those who grieve.
Many of you know that two and a half years ago, I lost the most significant person in my life. I am, however, not the only one. Many people have experienced deep and painful loss and face the coming of Christmas with some degree of depression. A time of year that is traditionally focused on family, love, and being with people we care about, can only tap into memories and regrets about the person or persons who are no longer with us. For people of faith who grieve, this time of year can be particularly painful, because the relationship with God may be somewhat conflicted. In the larger context, I believe we live in a world where many people are not only unhappy, they have forgotten, or perhaps seldom, if ever, experienced true joy.
There is a real difference between happiness and joy. One is temporal and temporary, the other runs deeper. A person can, I have found, be unhappy about the circumstances of life, but still have an underlying sense of joy that stems from something deeper. For me, that is from knowing that even if I find it hard to trust God after my experience of great loss, I know instinctively that God has never truly abandoned me and is simply waiting for me to sort it all out.
For people of a secular bent who have little or no sense of the presence of God, superficial, temporary happiness based in possessions (which can be lost) and people (who may either fail us or die) may be all there is. Those who do not have an experience of the love of God, if they lose someone or something significant, have only themselves and their relationships with others to rely on. All of those things are fallible. As Teresa of Avila said: "God alone is enough."
The readings today call us to pray anyway - to pull ourselves out of ourselves and look ahead to the coming of one who is greater than we are and to have faith that in the end, everything will indeed be alright. Only that kind of faith can bring true joy. In the meantime, we are called to hope. Here are two songs, appropriate for this Sunday that for me express this perfectly:
This weekend, I was at two Masses - one as the cantor, one as a choir member - and experienced the roll-out of the new translation twice. In both cases, the experience was a bit mixed - some hits, some misses.
At the Saturday night Mass, when our pastor used the longer form of the greeting: "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all" - I had a brain-freeze. I had been practicing for months to respond to "The Lord be with you" and that's what was on the Mass card. Miss number one. The second time, it was better - I was ready.
What I quickly discovered is that when I hear "The Lord be with you" - if the card was not in my hand and I had just finished a cantor function, such a singing the Alleluia, I was still on "autopilot" and responded dutifully - "And also with you." (makes sheepish face) About half of the Assembly apparently had the same issue. The responses were mixed.
It was better at the second Mass - and the choir led many of the responses, but again, as we were shuffling music to prepare for the eucharistic acclamations, we lapsed into the old response.
So, what did I learn on New Roman Missal weekend? I, and most other people are a bit like Pavlov's dog. Apparently, even when you know better, it will take a while to readjust and correct our response. Meanwhile, I feel just a bit drooly!
This weekend, as parishes around the U.S. begin to use the new Roman Missal, we will discover very early that there are differences - beyond the people's responses. The Collect for the First Sunday in Advent is a real eye-opener:
Grant your faithful, we pray, Almighty God,
The resolve to run forth to meet your Christ\
with righteous deeds at his coming, so that, gathered at his right hand,
they may be worthy to possess the heavenly Kingdom
Through our Lord....
Hmm - running forth with righteous deeds... this is a far cry from the previous translation's admonition to prepare our hearts "so that Christ may find an eager welcome at his coming." Gone is the passive sense that we, like the wise and foolish virgins of the parable, are simply waiting for the Bridegroom to show up to start the celebration. Missing is that whole "preparing the way" thing. Instead, we have a visual image - we are gearing up to run toward Christ as if we are long-lost lovers. Kind of like this:
This is a big change. One that will have me, at least, re-evaluating my image of Advent as a quiet time of preparation. Time to get those righteous deeds ready and put on my running shoes!
Advent will once again be upon us tomorrow night. Another church year draws to a full close - and with it the admonition to ready ourselves for the coming of the Lord. Our God, who once came among us clothed in human flesh, calls us to remember, to embrace Him fully in the here and now, and to ready ourselves for the End Times, as if they would come today (which they could, if it were God's will).
This song, for me, captures perfectly what Advent is all about.
May your time of preparation for His coming be truly fruitful and blessed.
Earlier tonight, it occurred to me that with the news this year that Target and other stores will be open Thanksgiving night (and some even earlier in the day) that a line has finally been crossed. It's time for those of us who respect tradition and family values to stand up and refuse to be sucked into the consumer maelstrom that has been taking over our country with increasing insistence.
It's high time that large consumer outlets looking to make a profit stopped telling us what to do and when. It's time that the Christmas industry stopped co-opting Halloween and Thanksgiving. It only happens because we let it. This year, don't encourage them. Start a backlash. Stay home. Shop after your holiday celebration. We should first be thankful for what we HAVE... only then is it appropriate to go out and get more stuff. (Maybe!)
Tonight I will be speaking to a group of parish catechists about liturgy with children. Here is the handout I have put together for them. (Note that the reason I have been asked to speak to them is partly because there have been some issues regarding the regular addition to religious education Masses of performances by the children, designed to showcase them and to motivate applause.)
1. Children have a natural sense of the sacred and a wonderful capacity for connecting with symbol and ritual. Good liturgy with children means giving them an opportunity to participate in the roles of the Liturgy and experience its power – NOT in adding “extras to the Liturgy to make it “child-friendly,” not in artificially turning it into a teaching moment.
2. The liturgy has roles. Children need to participate to the greatest extent possible in the liturgy. Therefore, they need an opportunity to take on the liturgical roles. (Directory for Masses with Children, 22) Liturgy is work. Children are naturally helpful, so they will eagerly take on the work of those roles if they are properly trained. Don’t just ask them to read. Teach them how to proclaim. Don’t just ask them to bring up the gifts. Show them how to do that with reverence and grace.
3. Liturgy is NOT entertainment. Nothing in the liturgy should showcase any person or persons in such a way as to generate applause. The Mass is a prayer to God the Father, through Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. It is never about us. And the assembly is not the audience expecting to be entertained.
4. The same gifts and talents are NOT given to everyone. This is not the Little League, where “no child shall be disappointed.” Children should be given liturgical roles for which they show some aptitude, not because it is “their turn.” Some children can sing: they belong in a children’s choir. Some can walk with grace and dignity – they should be in processions or should carry banners. Some can read clearly – they should be readers.
5. The people in the pews (the Assembly) have a specific “job description”. They are not the “audience” watching a performance. Teach children their proper role in joining in the Mass responses, spoken and sung. Teach them to listen – actively – to the Word of God. Teach them to offer their lives to God along with the gifts of bread and wine. Teach them to truly prepare themselves to receive Jesus in the Eucharist. Teach them to pray in thankfulness after receiving the Eucharist and to know what it is they are being sent out into the world to do as the Mass ends.
6. Children are tactile, sensory and able to grasp the significance of symbols. When appropriate, use the liturgical symbols: water, bread, wine, oil, fire lavishly and well. Help kids experience them, become familiar with them and delight in them.
7. Have them practice the songs that will be sung before the day of the Mass. Catechists can be given a tape or CD with the Mass songs.
So, what CAN children do at liturgy? They can take the proper liturgical roles. (Ask your parish music and liturgy director or parish members who train liturgical ministers to assist)
PREPARING FOR THE MASS:
1. Make a banner (These can even be made from heavy paper and mounted on a pole)
2. Decorate the altar or the liturgical space for the season with artwork or assist in placing fabric, flowers or other objects
3. Be part of a committee to choose the songs that will be sung (working with the musician or parish liturgist)
4. Be part of a committee to help write the General Intercessions (Prayers of the Faithful)
5. Decide to which charity the proceeds of a monetary or food collection will go.
AT MASS:
1. Be informed members of the Assembly, participating in the sung and spoken responses of the Mass, even if they serve in other ministries.
2. Be a minister of hospitality: greeter or usher, seating parents and/or handing out programs
3. Be an altar server (preferably they are students who do this on weekends because of the many details they need to know.)
4. Be part of the opening procession, carrying a banner
5. Be a song –leader or member of a choir
6. Be a reader
7. Be the psalmist (sung or spoken)
8. Bring up the gifts of bread and wine (the only things besides a monetary collection that should go up in that procession)
9. Be a communion usher, indicating when a row should get up to join the line
10. Collect books or song-sheets from Mass participants as they leave - and thank them for being there
As I came into the back of church, I recognized Oscar, a talented musician who directs and plays with the 1:00 p.m. Sunday Spanish choir - dressed in full regalia - complete with feather headdress. He smiled and mugged for my camera. Later, he took his place beside the altar and began to beat the drum that summoned about 30 colorfully dressed dancers, mostly women and teens, to the front. For the next 25 minutes they stamped, swayed, spun and shook maracas, in honor of the Virgin, as Oscar drummed out various rhythms. Their performance was beautiful, strange and a bit primitive. Certainly like nothing I have ever seen in church before. The colorful costumes seemed a bit skimpy for a December day in the Midwest, but soon the dancers were mopping their brows from their exertion, despite the chilly room.
