Map of the Mass

A Thought Experiment: Imagine someone you love more than anyone else in the world: someone
you love to talk to, love to just be quiet with; someone who totally understands you, totally loves
you back. Now imagine that, for some reason, you only get to visit with that person for one hour
a week—and you can only touch them once during the visit. Imagine how much you would value
your time together, how eagerly, you would listen to what they had to say, how joyfully you
would respond to it—and how much you would look forward to that moment when you could
touch them.

That person is God. That visit is the Mass. And that moment you can touch Him is Communion.

This series hopes to deepen your understanding of the Mass: the genius of its structure; the
richness of its mystery; the perfection of its prayer. Though its current structure is recognizable
even its earliest descriptions (e.g., St. Justin Martyr in the 2 nd century) it has evolved into a four-
part prayer in which each part points to our singular encounter with Christ in the Eucharist. This
week we’ll be looking at The Introductory Rites, consisting of five events or moments, which,
since the structure of the Mass has a distinctly musical quality to it, could even be thought of as
“movements”…

The Entrance – This is the procession from the back of the church to the foot of the altar. It’s
also when we sing the opening hymn. A Note on Singing: Psalm 100 says “Make a joyful
noise!”, not “Everybody should sing perfectly.” Another Thought Experiment: Even though God
is perfect, imagine He’s a little hard of hearing. So use the opening hymn to let him know you’re
here—and you’re happy! Something To Watch For: After the priest bows before the altar, he
goes up and kisses it. The place he kisses is where the bread and wine will become the Body and
Blood of Jesus. He’s kissing where the sacrifice will happen.

The Greeting – After leading us in the Sign of the Cross (i.e., the sign that identifies us as
Christians and blesses everything we do together), he says, “The Lord be with you” and we
respond “And with your spirit.” This exchange happens at four distinct places during the Mass.
Watch for where else it shows up. Why do you think we keep saying it? (Not going to tell
you—at least not yet.)

The Penitential Act – Before we move into the sacred space of the Eucharist, we acknowledge
that we’re sinners and ask for God’s mercy. First we pray the Confiteor (“I confess to Almighty
God…”) and then sing the Kyrie (“Lord, have mercy…”). (The Penitential Act may also remind
you that you’re overdue for Confession.)

The Gloria – Our response to the experience of God’s mercy is the Gloria, a song first taught to
us (at least the first two lines) by angels: it’s what they sang after the told the shepherds that the
Christ had been born in Bethlehem: “Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on
earth!” It’s also a glorification of the Triune God, the mystery of which informs the entire Mass
and will be referred to throughout its celebration.

The Collect [kol-ekt] – Also known simply as the Opening Prayer, it “collects” or gathers our
prayers into a single petition. (If you’re offering this Mass for a personal intention, this is a good
place to silently mention it to God.) During feasts, solemnities and liturgical seasons such as
Advent/Christmas and Lent/Easter, the Collect will reflect the themes of the feast or season.

Map of the Mass

The two central components of the Mass are the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the
Eucharist, which together, the Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us, “form one single act of
worship.” They are both experiences of the living Christ, both encounters with the mystery of
God’s love, both expressions of the power of the Spirit. The Liturgy of the Word is so important,
so intrinsic to the Mass’s act of worship, and so intimately connected to the Liturgy of the
Eucharist, that popular belief claims that if you miss the Gospel, you shouldn’t receive
Communion. This isn’t entirely true—and yet it is. On the one hand, canon law says nothing
about being at church in time for the Gospel in order to receive Communion. On the other hand,
canon law says that the Sunday Obligation means attending a whole Mass on Sunday—and a
whole Mass means being there from the very beginning. So no, you don’t have to be there in
time for the Gospel; you have to be there in time for the Entrance (see last week’s Map of the
Mass: Introductory Rites).

Maybe think of the Mass as a surprise party. Missing the Liturgy of the Word (or not paying
attention to it, which is the same thing) is like skipping the surprise part and just coming for a
piece of the cake. And, silly as it may be, the surprise party comparison isn’t entirely off the
mark. If you really listen to the Word, really let it sink into you, confuse you, comfort you, call
you, challenge you, you’ll be surprised every Sunday of the year. There are countless stories
about how a single phrase from the Gospel has changed someone’s life, turned people into saints.
You just have to listen. You just have to wait for your phrase…

The First Reading – For most of the year, this reading is taken from the Old Testament, though
during the Easter season it will be something from the Acts of the Apostles (stories about the
early Church). We read the Old Testament every week because as Christians we believe that God
works through history, and that the story of salvation began at the very moment when God said,
“Let there be light.” So when we read the Old Testament, we are, in a sense, looking through a
family album—except that a lot of our family stories go back to the Bronze Age. This can make
them seem strange, confusing. But they’re all stories about God trying to get through to us.
Sometimes even God seems strange in the Old Testament, but keep in mind the strange things
He’s had to do to get through to you sometimes. And if you’re really confused by something, ask
the priest about it after Mass. He’ll be thrilled to know you were listening that closely.

The Responsorial Psalm – It’s called “responsorial” because it’s responding to the theme of
The First Reading. Sometimes the connection is very clear; sometimes not so much. It doesn’t
really matter because all the Psalms are wonderful. The Old Testament is made up of a wide
range of literary genres—history, legend, prophecy, poetry—and the Psalms are among the best
poems ever written. Best because they’re heartfelt; best because they’re human. (It’s estimated
that about two-thirds of them are “complaint psalms”. Sound familiar?) And they’re all love
poems, even the complaints; all about how much God loves us, how much we love God; the
times when that love is easy; the times it’s tough. And musically, it’s one of the prettiest parts of
the Mass. We only sing the antiphon (the repeated line between the verses). Again: you don’t
have to be a great singer. You just have to remember you’re singing a love song.

The Second Reading – This is usually an excerpt from one of the letters St. Paul wrote to early
Christian communities (otherwise an excerpt from another New Testament writer: St. Peter, St.
John, St. Jude, etc.). At times St. Paul can be gorgeous and clear (“Love is patient, love is
kind…”); at others, you know something great, something profound, is going on but you just
can’t get a handle on it. Don’t feel bad. Even St. Peter said that St. Paul could be hard to
understand (2 Peter 3:16). Hang in there, and even if you aren’t entirely getting the theology, you
can at least enjoy Paul’s enthusiasm. St. Paul is passionate—and especially passionate about
Christ. You can always learn something from that. Besides, homilists love to preach about the
letters of St. Paul—especially the tough bits—so keep your ears open at the homily (about which
more later) and chances are the priest will talk about the part you found confusing.

The Gospel – The high point of the Liturgy of the Word is the reading of the Gospel, and there
are several liturgical “gestures” that heighten the importance—and reverence—of the moment.
First: we all stand, a universal sign of respect, and sing the Gospel Acclimation (a verse from
Scripture bracketed by Alleluias) (“Alleluia”, by the way, comes from Hebrew and means
“Praise the Lord!”). Sometimes the priest holds the Book of the Gospels up for all to see, similar
to the Elevation of the Host at the Consecration. The similarity is not accidental. Christ is not
only the Bread of Life (John 6:35) but He is also the Word of Life (1 John 1:1). He is as present
in the Gospel as He is in the consecrated host. So listen to Him carefully. And don’t worry if He
says something you don’t quite understand—or don’t quite feel ready to hear. The Apostles were
fairly clueless throughout most of Jesus’ ministry. But they never stopped loving Him—and
never stopped listening.

The Homily – And if you did find something confusing (maybe even troubling) in the Gospel,
chances are it may be explained in the homily. There are lots of jokes out there about bad
homilies, but Good Shepherd is blessed with particularly good homilists. Each has his own
approach to Scripture, his own favorite themes and spiritual emphases, his own unique speaking
style. But they will all give you something to think about, all challenge you, all point you toward
a deeper relationship with Christ.

The Profession of Faith – After a brief period of silence (similar to the silence after
Communion—and again, the similarity is not accidental), we profess the basic tenets of our faith
by praying the Nicene Creed. This is, in a way, a direct response to the Gospel. We’re publicly
proclaiming, “Having experienced God in His Word, this is what I believe.” The Nicene Creed
dates back to the 4 th century, though credal formulas go all the way back to the 1 st , and it’s good
to remember the early Christians, especially the martyrs, as we pray the Creed. We take its
clauses pretty much for granted, but for the early Christians the Creed was a list of beliefs that
could get them killed. It might refresh our own praying of the Creed if line-by-line we asked
ourselves, “Would I die for this?”

The Prayer of the Faithful – And just as we’re pivoting from the Liturgy of the Word into the
Liturgy of the Eucharist, we take a very beautiful, very human, very humble moment to turn to
God in petition. Approaching Him as a community, we intercede on behalf of the Church, the
world, the community, and ourselves, affirming our trust in His mercy and love.