Journeys of a Catholic Poster Girl

In today’s Enquirer (article by Dan Horn)–my emphases and comments.

Catholics stand together during Sunday Mass to recite the “Profession of Faith,” a creed that defines precisely what it is that makes them Catholic.

“We believe in God … We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ … We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.”

The prayer covers a lot of ground, from God’s creation of the Earth to Christ’s birth and crucifixion to the promise of life in heaven. Most churchgoing Catholics memorized the words as children and consider the creed a statement that unites them in a common belief.

And yet, when they walk out of church at the end of Mass, they still find plenty about their faith to argue about.

The arguments have been passionate in recent weeks as Cincinnati’s Catholics debated Archbishop Daniel Pilarczyk’s decision to punish Sister Louise Akers for publicly supporting the ordination of women priests.

Pilarczyk told Akers she could not teach in archdiocesan schools until she renounced her stance on the issue. A week after she refused, a parish priest in Westwood dismissed a volunteer religion teacher, Carol Egner, for writing a letter to The Enquirer supporting Akers and her position on women priests.

The decision to punish the teachers not only rekindled debate over the ordination of women, but also highlighted a long-running tug-of-war between traditionalists and progressives over the future of the Catholic Church.

“What’s happening with Akers is not an isolated case,” said John Allen, an author and columnist who covers the Vatican for the National Catholic Reporter, an independent weekly newspaper. “It’s a small piece of a much bigger picture.”

The struggle within the church has intensified in the past few years as conservative Catholics, energized by the appointment of Pope Benedict XVI, pushed for stricter adherence to church teaching. They have praised a Vatican investigation of women’s religious orders, welcomed a return to traditions such as the granting of indulgences and cheered Pope Benedict’s declaration that Catholics must “not seek to adapt the faith to the fashions of the age.”

They also supported Pilarczyk’s decision to get tough with Akers over the ordination of women, which some consider a vestige of a liberal theology that took hold in the 1960s and 1970s after the Second Vatican Council.

The council, also known as Vatican II, launched reforms that some theologians now say were misinterpreted as an invitation to change the central teachings of the faith to better mesh with the changing secular world.

“Vatican II wasn’t intended to set off a liturgical civil war, but that’s what we got,” said Rich Leonardi, a Cincinnatian who writes the conservative Catholic blog Ten Reasons. “There was a tendency to think the church should just go with the flow, to move with the world rather than to move the world.

“That ship has sailed. There’s no intensity around that movement any more.”

Catholics who favor reform dispute Leonardi’s take on their views, saying they remain active and committed to changing their church from within. They acknowledge, however, that they face more challenges today than they did just a few decades ago.

“I do think there seems to be a trend among bishops around the country to get much more hard-line about women’s issues,” said Christine Schenk, director of FutureChurch, which favors a “discussion” about women’s ordination but has not endorsed the idea.

“It’s a mystery to me, but talking about women’s equality in the church is threatening at some level.” (Oh. Puh-leaze. Genesis doesn’t say “male and female he created equally” It says, “Male and female he created them.” Each gender is unique, and each has unique gifts. They are not interchangable things. For more–read the Theology of the Body. Even a brief summary will suffice.)

Dealing with dissent

Conservatives have gained momentum in the past decade among the laity, in seminaries and in the church hierarchy. They have taken to blogs, TV and radio and have become more active in church affairs and in secular politics.

That was evident earlier this year when bishops and thousands of lay Catholics publicly opposed President Barack Obama’s speech at the University of Notre Dame on grounds that his pro-choice stance conflicted with Catholic teachings.

“What we’re living through right now is a kind of reaction against what was seen as an excessively liberal period,” Allen said.

From the outside looking in, divisions within the church are not all that visible because polls show America’s 70 million Catholics tend to hold views similar to those of the general population.

But those polls also show that Catholics who describe themselves as “orthodox” or who attend Mass regularly are more closely aligned with their church’s teachings on issues such as abortion, homosexuality and embryonic stem cell research.

These are the Catholics who have embraced what some call the “Catholic identity movement,” which calls for closer adherence to the traditions and teachings that separate Catholics from other Christian faiths.

“A watered down Catholicism that asks nothing of its members shouldn’t expect to get anything in return,” Leonardi said.

One of those teachings is the all-male priesthood. While not referenced in Scripture, it is based on sacred tradition passed down over 2,000 years and is specifically referenced in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

In other words, the male priesthood is non-negotiable.

“The church has no authority to ordain women,” said archdiocese spokesman Dan Andriacco. “It is not an open question.”

He said the discipline imposed on Akers and Egner is not part of a wider crackdown on dissent, as some fear, and the archdiocese has no interest in rooting out rank-and-file Catholics who don’t agree with everything the church does, including the 60 percent who tell pollsters they support ordaining women.

“There is no witch hunt,” said the Rev. Earl Fernandes, dean of Mount St. Mary’s Seminary. “We’re a big church. We try to help each person to grow in faith.”

‘Spirit of openness’

Dissent is nothing new for Catholics. The church’s positions on birth control, celibacy for priests, the Latin Mass and a host of other traditions and teachings have been argued for decades, or even centuries.

Priests and bishops know not every Catholic will adhere to every teaching of the faith, and most say there is room on some issues for healthy debate, or at least for disagreement.

“We want to have a fundamental spirit of openness,” Fernandes said.

Church officials say Akers and Egner crossed a line because they are teachers who publicly challenged church teachings. Their argument goes something like this: Religion is about belief, and those who believe women should be priests don’t believe what the Catholic Church teaches. They believe what Methodists teach. (Ha!)

That doesn’t mean they have to quit the church, but it does mean they aren’t permitted to teach. (Exactement!)

“We want our teachers to be authentic,” Fernandes said. “We want our teachers to believe what they teach.”

Both Akers and Egner say they would not express their views on women’s ordination in their classes, and they consider themselves loyal to their church and to the core beliefs recited every Sunday in the Profession of Faith.

They say there should be room in their church for them to do the work they love, even if they disagree on the ordination of women.

“Catholics have a very long tradition of various beliefs and the ability to talk about them,” Egner said. “Sometimes things change.”

Tonight I listened to the first sacraments lecture. IT was good–short (less than 40 minutes). We talked about signs and symbols, and Thomas Aquinas’ definition of the sacramentum naturea–that sacraments use things in the natural world–like water, oil, bread and wine. The professor is a Dominican Priest, so he offers an unique perspective on sacraments, especially ones like Holy Orders.

There are no written assignments, only a midterm and a final. There aren’t any reading assignments on the syllabus, but he does give them during the lecture. Like tonight he wanted us to read part of the CCC, about liturgy and sacraments. It was pretty edifying. 

I think this one will be pretty smooth sailing, since sacraments, especially the Eucharist, are subjects I have read a lot about (having Protestant friends who think you’re a cannibal really helps in your preparation for this kind of stuff.) Our professor described the class as “practical”, saying that the sacraments are really the bread and butter of Catholicism. I totally agree. 

So a weekend break, then on M, back to sacraments. Sacraments MWF, and Biblical Studies I on T and Th.

This, from Mark Shea, is definitely worth a read.

Of Closed Communion and Japanese Restaurants

A while back when the Atlanta Braves were (yet again) playing the Yankees (yet again) in the World Series, somebody undertook to ask some Native Americans what they thought of the Atlanta team’s Indian symbol. In the article I read, I was amused to discover that, with one exception, none of the Native Americans interviewed cared a whit about the “Braves” symbol or felt it to be insulting, humiliating, etc. The one exception was an “outraged” “social activist” (i.e., a professional grievance mongerer, whose life and livelihood depended on surveying the landscape for affronts to Native Americans so as to get TV face time and funding for further identity politics and still more face time and money.) The activist’s “outrage” was purely professional and wildly out of touch with the people he claimed to speak for. Real Native Americans had lives and were cheering for the Braves.

This strange disconnect between the “activists” and the people they supposedly care about springs to mind when I contemplate the American Catholic Church. One of the current frets among the perpetual hand-wringing crowd in AmChurch is the terrible psychic trauma supposed to be inflicted on thousands of well-meaning non-Catholic visitors to Mass when they are informed that they cannot receive communion. So great is that trauma, we are told, that the Church must–simply must–change its cruel and nonsensical rule of closed communion and “welcome” all to the altar. Otherwise, we allegedly risk “alienating” a throng of exquisitely sensitive souls whose tender and trembling nerves cannot bear, even for a moment, the thought of “exclusion”.

All this sort of thing is stated as self-evidently obvious: like the fact that wife-beating skyrockets during the Super Bowl. Or the fact that Nostradamus predicted the WTC bombing. Or the fact that the Inquisition killed 46 million people. It’s just widely known, universally acknowledged, received wisdom that closed communion in the Catholic Church is devoid of reason, a relic of the Church’s insistence that She alone is right and only Catholics are saved, and that the response to this medieval tribalism by any thinking inquirer is to find some more tolerant and enlightened religion.

Now the curious thing is that the people who say these sorts of things are usually incredibly earnest acolytes of all that is progressive, PC, and multicultural. Walk into a Japanese restaurant with one of these folks and boorishly refuse to take your shoes off in deference to custom and you will be regarded as a mouth-breathing Neanderthal henceforth. Attend a Jewish friend’s bris for his son at the local Orthodox synagogue and complain that they didn’t serve ham sandwiches to accommodate your Gentile taste buds (”What about me? What about my needs!”) and they will wince (rightly) at your loutishness. Traipse into a silent auction and start barking out bids at the volume Ted Turner tells Polish jokes and they will, with complete justice, write you off as a self-centered loser with no capacity for dealing with social situations that do not completely orbit around your own immense ego.

But walk into Mass as a guest and start loudly demanding, “Hey! How come I can’t have some of those crackers and wine?! Real Presence? What’s that? The body and blood of Christ? No, I don’t believe in fairy tales, but I resent being excluded and I demand my rights!!” and they applaud you as a cutting edge pioneer in Catholic theology.

Now, it may have occurred to you that not many visitors at Mass really want to do these boorish things. It has occurred to me as well. I have a brother, mother, neighbors and many friends who are not Catholic. When they join us for Mass, we routinely remind them, “You can’t, of course, receive communion. However, you are welcome to come up and receive a blessing from the priest by just crossing your arms across your breast.” And they do. No fuss. No muss. They’re happy to honor our customs, happy to show respect for our Faith in whatever way seems best to us, just as I would be happy and not feel put upon to don a yarmulke should I pay a visit to my friend’s synagogue.

Indeed, I’ve never known or heard of a living soul, visiting the Church, who has been “hurt” by closed communion. Typically, such visitors are, as I once was, strangers in a strange land, a little awed, a little curious, a little amazed, a little amused, by the gestures, rituals, statues, candles, holy water, genuflections, litanies, candles, standing, kneeling, sitting, signs of the cross, sprinklings, anointings, readings and assorted sensory experiences being flung at them in the liturgy. It can be a little baffling, but who says that’s bad? Any contact with the divine worth its salt ought to have something about it that is mysterious. A religious rite that is clear as water and simple as the multiplication table is going to be as satisfying to the human soul as reading the phone book. There should be, for the newcomer, the sense that we are, as Thomas Howard put it, in the precincts of a great mystery, that we are in terra incognita, and that we are not in command of the situation.

Along with that sensation is a certain sort of humility that is at the far end of the spectrum from “humiliation”: the humility that makes us take off our shoes in Japanese restaurants, or respect the customs in a foreign country, or refrain from writing in magic marker on the Great Pyramid like a doltish tourist. This same sensation bids us to honor the local custom of the sanctuary and to observe the proprieties, not because we know what’s going on, but because we don’t. I have never known a soul, alive to this Common Courtesy 101 rule of thumb, who has felt “humiliated”, “excluded”, “diminished” or otherwise harmed by it. On the contrary, it is an enormously enriching approach to life since it makes us alive to the mysteries, twists, and turns that both human custom and sacred revelation may spring on us.

Indeed, the only people I know who fret about it are dissenting leftist Catholics, for whom no “problem” with the Church’s teaching and practice is so trivial, preposterous, or daffy that they cannot find some way to take offense on behalf of the phantom legions of the Wounded out there. (Dissenting rightist Catholics can also fixate on trivial, preposterous and daffy things. But they usually claim these objects of fixation are an offense against TRVTH, not against the tender sensitivities of buttercup twirlers.) It is the custom of leftist dissenters to talk about “nonsensical rules” without inquiring as to their sense. But when real visitors visit, they find the Church’s “nonsensical” rules to make a great deal of sense. When I explain “Please don’t take communion since, by that gesture, you are proclaiming ‘I believe all that the Catholic Church teaches and proclaims is revealed by God’ and you don’t want to do that unless you mean it and have been received into full communion by the Church”, I never get a quarrel. I get cheerful nods, interest, and a friendly desire to honor the sanctuary.

That’s because visitors, unlike the “activists” and “advocates” in the Church who claim to speak for them, are reasonable people with real lives to live and baseball teams to root for.

My thoughts: I have a lot of non-Catholic friends. Some of them have gone to Mass with me. And I always tell them, if you go up to receive communion, the Earth won’t open and God won’t smite you (Well, it hasn’t happened yet.). Then I go on to explain the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist, and tell them that by receiving communion, you are agreeing to that (That’s what the “Amen” is about). If they agree, then go on up, then join RCIA. (Kidding…sort of) If not, then you can come up to be blessed or you can stay in the pew.

I believe most of my friends just stay in the pew. I can’t recall ever seeing one of them get up and receive with me. But I probably get more Protestant vitrol about this topic than any other, that’s for sure.

From Magnificat (with some of my own additions):

Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton was born on August 28, 1774, in New york City, to a wealth and distinguished Episcopalian family. She was baptized in the Episcopal faith and was a faithful adherent to the Episcopal Church of England. Her mother died when she was a child and her father was a physician. In 1794, Elizabeth married businessman William Seton, and they raised five children in New York City. Her husband suffered a catastrophic business failure which forced the family to sell their home and depend on the kindness of relatives. William contracted tuberculosis and Elizabeth and Anna, one of their daughters, accompanied him to Leghorn, Italy, where he sought a cure. Sadly, he died there, and Elizabeth and Anna went to live for a time with the Felicci family, wealthy Italians who were friends of William’s. Impressed by their deep faith, Elizabeth decided to convert to Catholicsm upon her return to America. She made her professsion of faith in 1805, much to the displeasure of her family. At the behest of Bishop John Carroll, Elizabeth established the her Catholic school in Balitmore in 1808, which was open to all students regardless of their family’s ability in pay. In 1809 she founded the Daughters of Charity in Emmitsburg, Maryland. Her two boys were educated at Mount St. Mary’s and joined the American navy. Elizabeth lost two of her daughters, Anna and Rebecca, to tuberculosis. Her daughter Katherine survived. Her community spread to New York state, and as far as St. Louis, before she died on January 4, 1821. She was declared a Saint (the first American-born) by Pope Paul VI on September 14, 1975.

From St. Elizabeth’s writings:

O Father, the first rule of our dear Saviour’s life was to do your will. Let his will of the present moment be the first rule of our daily life and work, with no other desire but for its most full and complete accomplishment. Help us to follow it faithfully, so that doing what you wish we will be pleasing to you.

Lord Jesus, who was born for us in a stable, lived for us a life of pain and sorrow and died for us upon the cross; say for us in the hour of death, “Father, forgive,” and to your Mother, “behold your child.” Say to us, “This day you shall be with me in paradise.” Dear Saviour, leave us not, forsake us not. We thirst for you, Fountain of Living Water. Our days pass quickly along; soon all will be consummated for us. To your hands, we commend our spirits, not and forever. Amen.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton is one of my favorite saints. I’ve seen the movie A Time for Miracles many times, and it helps butress my own feeling of vocation. In my ideal life, I would like to be her–married to a man she loved, children, a nun, a foundress, a teacher, etc. Her life was hard, I know. But still, she encompassed every part of a woman’s life in a truly unique way.

In grade school my parents took us to Emmitsburg to see St. Elizabeth’s home and school. You can still see the original school house she and the sisters used. St. Elizabeth is buried on the property, along with her children. It is a beautiful and peaceful place.

Some links:

On her life

Seton shrine in NYC (lower Manhattan)

The Emmitsburg Shrine (National shrine)

Why is it that…

Protestants have “Ave Maria” sung at their weddings?

Yes, it’s a lovely song. It’s sort of entered the standard wedding repetoire. But they do know what it’s saying, right? And that their churches completely reject what’s being sung?

Just curious.

 Someone want to tell me how the Church Jesus Christ founded, headed by his apostles, upon which “the gates of Hell shall not prevail” is heterodox? Because I’m missing it.

Sometimes, when I’m home and bored I like to poke around Wikipedia. Today I stumbled across the entry for the Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod (LCMS), which I am familiar with, having several friends who are of this denomination. There was a link to their official website . Once there, I found a link to the differences between Catholicism and the LCMS church. Well, I was a bit curious. I decided to check this out, because I have long wondered where, precisely, some of my friends had gotten their rather strange ideas of Catholicism.

The page lists 8 issues that are listed in the form of questions. A few of the points I found, um, interesting: my comments in bold
(Read on …)

Today’s gospel was perfect for my state of mind lately; Jesus spoke about not worrying what to say when you are questioned about your faith, because he will give you the words that no one can refute. He promised that “not a hair on [our] head[s]” will be lost. He takes such good care of us–I think that is something that we often forget.

We think that if God loved us, then He’d sort of “leave us alone”; that is, we’d have enough money, perfect health, etc., etc. Everything would be easy. But if you look at the lives of those God and Jesus loved, it was the exact opposite. Mary was told at Jesus’ presentation that a sword would pierce her heart. John, the “beloved disciple”, died in exile on Patmos. Peter and some of the other apostles were crucified. How many saints had illness, the “dark night”, doubt, pain, fear? Almost all of them. Look at Jesus himself, the “beloved Son”–crucified. For love of us. God’s love is, to our human way of thinking,a funny kind of love. But we have to remember that His knowledge is perfect. He wants us to be with Him in Heaven, and if that takes discomfort and pain, etc., then that’s what it takes. And it doesn’t take that for everyone. I’m re-reading St. Teresa of Avila’ s The Interior Castle, and in her discussion of the First Mansion, she discusses this point, saying, “there are different way of being in this castle”; she writes later that “if we start with the false principle of wishing God to follow our will and to lead us in the way we think best, upon what firm foundation can this spiritual edifice rest?” RTusting God is vital. But that doesn’t mean we can’t doubt. Mother Angelica said

Don’t worry if you have doubts. Doubts do not displease God. They are permitted by Him–permitted to bring out the depth of faith within us.

But this was all just one part of the Gospel. The other part, the first part, about not being afraid of what to say because Jesus will give us the words, is what I’ve been dealing with lately. So many people seem to want to blunt God’s truth and what His Church teaches. They want balance. They want other ideas presented. This is not a political arena. There are no other sides in the Catholic Church. There is right, and there is wrong. There is sin, and there is virtue. There is Heaven, there is Hell (well, OK, Purgatory too, but you know what I mean). I know people who want to present sin, heresy, blasphemy (all good old-fashioned words we’re too afraid to use anymore) as “alternatives” or “other ideas” or “balance.” Well, there isn’t balance when we’re talking faith. God will keep us from error, but I don’t want to have my parish end up like some Protestant denominations, who write statements like (and I’m paraphrasing), “abortion is bad, but if you really need to have one, then you should be able to. (Side note: What other sin do we talk about like this? None. We don’t say, “well murder is bad, but if you really need to kill someone, do it.” “Well, stealing is bad, but if you need to..” “adultery is bad, but…” Only abortion. Funny.) NO.

One among the many things I love about Catholicism is its total definitiveness. There is right and wrong. Black and white. This is what is good, and this is what is not. There’s no wishy-washy beating ’round the bush. You know what’s going on, and if you don’t, get thee to your CCC. If you’re Catholic, be Catholic. Believe what we believe hook, line and sinker. Or go find a church that believes what you believe. To pull the name of a blog, “The cafeteria is closed.” No more of this balance talk. We have to talk truth.

how not to do it.

Seen on the sign of the Lutheran Church down the road from my parish:

REFORMATION SUNDAY

LOTS OF SPECIAL MUSIC!

Etc., etc. with times, and a mention of food.

OK, um, wow.

First off, why is there even Reformation Sunday? Yes, I know it’s “technically” the day their denominationw as founded. But basically it’s a slap in the face to Catholics, akin to saying, “boy are we glad we purified our church and separated from all those heretic losers!”   Can you imagine if Catholics celebrated something akin to that? The uproar would be incredible. 500 years after the fact it seems like we’d be sort of past this, right?

When I went to Capital (a technically “Lutheran” school), they always celebrated Reformation Sunday, and it made me think, “how ironic, given that half your student population is Catholic.”  For a religion that preaches love and brotherhood and tolerance and all that good stuff, this doesn’t seem like any of those things.

They went their way. We went ours. Can we move on?
As a side note: do any other Protestant denominations celebrate this? Or is it just the Lutherans?

Side note 2: I know it’s cliche, but seriously, my best friends are  Lutheran. One of them has a brother-in-law who is a Pastor. So it’s not like I don’t know any. And I’m sure that for many of them it’s not an “in your face” kind of thing. But it still bugs me that the denomination continues to have this. If you want to celebrate Martin Luther’s birthday, or whatever, go ahead. But do we need to have “Reformation Sunday”? Please.

Side note– the Assumption (August 15) is celebrated in the Lutheran Liturgical Calendar. Rather ironically, it’s listed as a “lesser festival.” I don’t know a whole lot about Luther, but one of the things I do know is that he kept his devotion to Mary his entire life. So the idea that the Mother of God is relegated to Christmas and a “lesser festival” is ironic.

( A quick web search revealed some Protestant papers trying to debunk the idea that Luther was devoted to Mary in a Catholic sense. The one paper I actually read actually contains several confirmations of Catholic Marian doctrine. So I think that there may be some misunderstandings vis a vis Catholic Mariology here. But I digress.)

At one point in my life, I was engaged to a protestant guy, and as we began to plan the wedding, one of the underriding (like that?) questions was, “um, how do we explain the protocol of a Catholic Mass to half the guests that aren’t Catholic?” Given that I, too, have many non-Catholic friends (in fact they override the Catholic ones), we got this question a lot. I am basing this on my experience and understand of how the Church operated. Alas, there are parishes that do not follow the below guidelines. Sic their bishop on them!!

So, for posterity, I am recording what to DO and NOT to do if you are not Catholic and yet find yourself in a Catholic Church (note: these are guidelines for a general Mass. There’s no way I’m going into all the possible variations for feasts and solemnities and Holy Week and Christmas and what have you. But these’ll get you through).

1. When you enter Mass, you’ll notice people dipping their right hand in the holy water fonts by the doors and making the sign of the cross. This is to remind us of our baptism and note that we are entering a holy place. Do it or don’t do it–up to you.

2. When a Catholic enters the pew, he will not just slouch in (or he shouldn’t!). He will genuflect towards the tabernacle, make the sign of the cross, and then take his seat, acknowledging the True Presence of Christ in the consecreated hosts that are stored in the tabernacle. Again, up to you.

3. Most Catholics will then kneel and pray. Mass is preceded by five minutes of “sacred silence”, so this is not the time to ask your neighbor what he thought of the latest Jennifer Aniston flick. Look through the hymnals and books available; one of them will probably have an Order of the Mass, with the congregation’s responses notes, so you can follow along.

4. Mass begins with an opening hymn and procession. Stand up. NOTE: Catholics do not sing in four-part harmony! The quickest way to reveal Protestant roots is to begin singing the Alto/Tenor/ Bass/ your own harmony line to “The Church’s One Foundation.” This is particularly true if the opening hymn is “A Mighty Fortress”. Only Catholic choirs sing four-part–the congregation doesn’t. Don’t do it.

And Catholics and Protestants do not have the exact same hymnal, so don’t expect to know every hymn.

5. Introductory rites: The priest opens the Mass with “The Lord be with you”. Then we have the penintential rite (”Lord have Mercy”/ “Christ have Mercy”/ “Lord have Mercy”). Unless it’s Lent or Advent, the Gloria (”Glory to God in the highest/ And peace to His people on Earth”), which is sung, follows. This is similar to the “Hymn of Praise” some Protestants sing, although the words are totally different.

6. Then we have the opening prayer. Sit.

7. The Liturgy of the Word: First reading, from the O.T. (or Acts/ Revelation, depending on the feast/ season) Notice “reading”, not “lesson”. The response after the reading is “Thanks be to God.”

8. Responsorial Psalm: Sung by the cantor or small group (if small group, could be in four-part harmony). The cantor will sing the refrain and the congregation repeats it after each verse. It’s usually a psalm, but could be another scripture verse.

9. Second reading–an epistle.

10. Gospel Acclamation (stand): Unless it’s Lent, some form of “Alleluia”. Same protocol as Pslam. If it’s Lent, then it’s “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ / King of endless Glory!” (no Alleluia during Lent)

11. Gospel. The priest/deacon will say, “The Lord be with you”. Response: “And also with you”. The priest will then announce the reading, which the congregation will reply to with “Glory to you, Lord” while making the sign of the cross on their foreheads, lips, and heart, to remind them to keep Christ always present in these areas. The Gospel is then proclaimed. At the end, the congregation replies, “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.” Sit.

12. The Homily, NOT the sermon. Not the most important part of Mass, thus is short. A reflection on the readings of the day and how they apply to our daily lives.

13. Stand for the Creed-usually the Nicene, but occasionally the Apostles’.

14. Intercessions–when the reader/ deacon reads the prayer requests of the faithful. Response is “Lord, hear our prayer.”

15. Liturgy of the Eucharist begins–this happens EVERY SUNDAY. The gifts are brought up to the altar, the altar is prepared for Communion, and a hymn is sung. Offetory (ie, the envelope baskets) is also taken at this time. We’re sitting at this point. There is usually a hymn sung.

16. Stand for the preface to the Eucharistic Prayer. Note that this can be chanted. If everyone around you starts chanting (it seems that we Catholics are born with an extra chip in our head that allows us to do monochant without much of a problem), just join in if you’re comfortable, and stay silent if you’re not.

17. Followed by the “Holy,” which is sung.

18. Now everybody kneels (!) for the Eucharistic Prayer. Eucahristic Prayer I is the longest and usually reserved for special feasts. Usually you’ll get 2 or 3, which are shorter. This can also be chanted.

19. After the Consecration, the “Memorial Acclaimation” (Christ has died / Christ is risen / Christ will come again) is sung.

20. The Eucharistic Prayer finishes, leading to the Doxology (Though Him / With Him /In Him/ In the Unity of the Holy Spirit / All Glory and Honor is yours, Almight Father / Forever and Ever) followed by the Great Amen.

21. Stand. The “Our Father” is prayed. NOTE: The Catholic “Our Father” does NOT segue right into “for the kingdom”. This is the surest sign that there’s a Protestant in our midst.  When I was a cantor in college, we always (well, almost always) had Protestant organists (it was a Protestant school, after all) and the first time they would play for us they would give themselves away by going right into it, then stopping abruptly when they realized they were the only ones going on. We say it after the priest gives a brief prayer.

22. The Sign of Peace. Everyone hugs or shakes hands or kisses (depending on the level of affinity) with the people around them.

23. The “Lamb of God”.

24. Kneel again. Time for Communion. The priest distributes Communion to the Eucharistic Ministers and the distribution begins. Hymns are sung throughout, or a piece by the choir. Some churches only do vocal music after Communion is finished as a “song of praise”. Whatever.

This is the big sticking point: Catholic doctrine says that you shouldn’t receive communion if you’re not Catholic. The reason is simple: Catholics see the Eucharist as a sign of their oneness in Faith. When you receive Eucharist, the exchange is thus: the distributor says “The Body/ Blood of Christ” and you answer “Amen”. The “Amen” implies that you believe what was just told to you. If you don’t, then you’re essentially committing blasphemy by taking it. That’s not cool. If you’re not united with the Catholic Church and don’t believe what we believe, then why would you want to receive Eucharist? But some of you will do it anyway, and I will tell you that the Church floor won’t open and God won’t smite you with thunder (at least I’ve never seen it) but it’s not generally accepted practice. It is quite acceptable to remain in your seat in silent prayer while everyone else receives. You won’t be the only one sitting there, trust me.

25. After Communion, people kneel until the priest/ deacon is seated and the altar servers begin clearing the altar. Sit.

26. Stand. The Prayer After Communion is given. Annoucements (if any) are read.

27. Final blessing.

28. Closing hymn–you stay until the hymn is over!! I don’t care if the choir is launching into all 11 verses of “O Sons and Daughters”–you stay!!! It’s polite! And it’s not the Indy 500 out in the parking lot, anyway!

That, my friends, is the Order and Etiquette of the Catholic Mass. A few other points:

–no gum chewing, please. Or eating in general. You are supposed to have fasted for one hour prior to attending Mass, anyway.
–wear nice clothes, i.e. not ripped jeans or a trampy t-shirt or something with inappropriate messages (i.e., a shirt with a Darwin fish wouldn’t fly). Remember it’s God’s house you’re visiting.
–Refrain from any and all snide comments about the Faith during Mass!
–Catholics do not bring Bibles to Church–the priest doesn’t announce a particular verse that he’s preaching on and have everyone open up. You may see some Catholics with St. Joseph’s Missals, which give the Order of the Mass and the readings for the particular day. That’s not the same thing.
–The Homily will most likely be under 10 minutes. Shocking, I know.
–Catholic Churches don’t pass out bulletins with the reading in them. These readings can normally be found in one of the books in the pews/

Hope this was helpful–Catholics, let me know if I’ve left anything out.

This is a great post from Amy on the subject of Faith and Works–do Catholics believe we can “buy” our way into Heaven.

No.

And Amy explains why.