Tuesday, July 9, 2024

Fifth Gospel, Part 4

Understanding how every Mass requires traveling

07/08/2024

We climb onboard our train of reflections on the Fifth Gospel, that is, how the Holy Land can teach us about the holy liturgy. The curious thing about saying Mass onboard a moving train is that where we start Mass with the Sign of the Cross is miles always away from where we end Mass with the Sign of the Cross and the dismissal “Go in peace.” My parents and I started celebrating our train-Mass in the peaceful prairielands of Manitoba, Canada, and finished the Eucharist before we reached the borders of Saskatchewan. We watched the land flash by outside the window, while the land watched the liturgy speedy by inside the window.

In this way, the land witnessed the progression of the liturgy like mile-markers on the side of the highway. I remember as a small child attending Mass thinking that when we stood for the Our Father the Mass was mercifully almost over! We passed one of the last mile-markers of the Mass! Celebrating Mass is a lot like traveling on a train: some priest-conductors drive furiously fast, while other go agonizingly slow. And the poor passengers have to put up with it all.

I want to suggest that the two Masses we want to consider next – we will only get to one of them today – are also curiously traveling Masses. That is, they begin in one location and end in an entirely different place. Further, in this way, the Holy Land – upon which this journey takes place – bears a unique witnesses to these first liturgies and reveals that an essential characteristic of the Eucharist is that it requires us to travel. First, we will see this in the Last Supper of Jesus with his apostles, which begins in the Upper Room but ends on the heights of Calvary.

But secondly, we will consider it in the Mass of Jesus with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. There, the Mass begins on the outskirts of Jerusalem with Jesus breaking open the Word as they walk, and ends with the Breaking of the Bread in Emmaus as they eat and their eyes are opened. If you have ever carefully watched choreography of the liturgy, you will notice how every Mass sort of travels visually from the Liturgy of the Word at the ambo to the Liturgy of the Eucharist at the altar. Movement is a constitutive quality of the Eucharist.

First, we should note the Passover – as prescribed by rabbinic tradition – consisted of consuming four cups of wine, each charged with symbolism and significance. The first cup was consumed after a special blessing, the Kiddush, was spoken over it. The second cup was drunk after reciting the Passover story, “Why is this night different from all other nights?” The third cup followed eating the lamb and the unleavened bread called “the cup of blessing.” Fourthly, and finally, the Great Hallel was sung, Psalms 114-118, after which the fourth cup was consumed, called “the cup of consummation.”

Scott Hahn draws attention to the stunning fact that Jesus did not drink the fourth cup, but rather took the Last Supper, in effect, “on the road.” This break with liturgical tradition is amazing because of that old joke: what is the difference between a terrorist and a liturgist? You can negotiate with a terrorist. In any case, Hahn observes how irregular such an interruption would have been:

"Among the difficulties presented by the Last Supper narratives is the way they end the seder prematurely. Jesus and his disciples exit the room and go off into the night singing a hymn (see Mark 14:26). But they neglect to drink the cup of wine prescribed to accompany the hymn – the fourth cup. This is a glaring omission."

Then Hahn answers the question on everyone’s mind: Well, did Jesus finally drink the fourth cup, and if so, when? In order to find the answer, Hahn takes us to the scene of the crucifixion and provides the color commentary: "Finally at the very end, Jesus was offered “sour wine” or “vinegar” (John 19:30; Matthew 27:48; Mark 15:36; Luke 23:36). All the Synoptics testify to this. But only John tells us how he responded: “When Jesus had received the sour wine he said, ‘It is finished’; and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit” (19:30).

At the moment he took that sip of wine, Jesus not only concluded his passion and death, but he also finished the Passover liturgy and thereby transformed it into the New Passover, that is, the first Mass.

Every Mass, therefore is at heart a “traveling Mass” because it traces Jesus’ steps from the Upper Room and finds its fulfillment outside Jerusalem on Calvary. We daily travel between these two poles of the mystery of our salvation: between the Upper Room and Calvary. We can even say we are “fed” at the ambo, the table of the Word, and then we move to the altar of sacrifice. Think about it: when you don’t hear a good homily, don’t you feel like you leave Mass still spiritually hungry?

Pope Benedict insisted that these two foci of the Eucharist were present from the beginning: "Thus, in the early church buildings, the liturgy has two places. First, the Liturgy of the Word [the spiritual supper] takes place at the center of the building. The faithful are grouped around the bema, the elevated area where the throne of the Gospel, the seat of the bishop, and the lectern are located. The Eucharistic celebration proper [the unbloody sacrifice] takes place in the apse, at the altar, which the faithful “stand around”."

Let us return to look at the land. Along the road between Supper and Sacrifice, Jesus stops in the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. And here the land gets a privileged taste of the liturgy. I would like to propose that the first to taste the chalice of the Blood of Christ, after the apostles, was the Garden of Gethsemane. How so? Fulton Sheen eloquently explained: "No wonder, then, with the accumulated guilt of all the ages clinging to [Jesus] as a pestilence His bodily nature gave way…He now sensed guilt to such an extent that it forced Blood from his Body, Blood which fell like crimson beads upon the olive roots of Gethsemane, making the first Rosary of the Redemption."

That is, while the apostles drank from the sacramental chalice of Christ’s Blood, the roots and rocks of Gethsemane drank directly from the chalice of Christ’s Body. The name “Gethsemane” literally means “an olive press” which squeezed out the juice of the olives. Jesus’ Precious Blood was likewise squeezed out of him in that spiritual olive press of his Passion, and the land was among the first to taste the Lord’s love poured out in the liturgy.

At every Eucharist, therefore, we like the apostles, follow our Lord as he travels between his Supper and his Sacrifice, between the Liturgy of the Word (his three years of public ministry), where he feeds us with his teaching, and the Liturgy of the Eucharist (his three days of the Paschal Mystery, the Holy Triduum), where he feeds us with his Body and Blood, and we, too, drink from the fourth cup at the Cross.. And the land had a front row seat to the great mysteries contained in the liturgy, where Jesus first preached the fullness of truth, and where he perished to give us the fullness of salvation.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

No comments:

Post a Comment