It happened again a while ago. The Mass was honoring a former member of the parish who had just professed final vows. Visiting clergy were present. After the procession, when all were assembled on the altar, the pastor made the sign of the cross, looked at the packed house, gave a big smile, and said, “Yep, just another ordinary Mass at St. ‘X’.” A laughter of good will broke out. He introduced the visiting priests; and each, in turn, received a round of applause.
Whatever solemnity there may have been received a huge blow.
This is not another rant of how priests are deforming the Mass by their impromptu remarks. Rather, I am raising the question of whether the Mass, specifically the Novus Ordo Mass by its nature, may be deforming our priests. This is true even when it is celebrated reverently and on special occasions. In fact, it seems the more special the occasion, the more egregious the transgression.
I don’t impute any fault to those involved. There needs to be knowledge of a transgression for that to be imputed, and the point of this piece is that we’ve come to the point where the knowledge seems to be lacking through no fault of the participants. I know each priest involved and had been to confession with most of them. They were solid on Church teaching and the guidance of souls.
By “deforming the clergy,” I mean that the Novus Ordo can seem (and I emphasize “seem”) to alter the nature of the priest from one who performs a sacrifice to one who is in charge of a ceremony. His whole attitude and demeanor changes. I am sure this is unconscious and that the vast majority of priests view their celebration of the Mass as a solemn event. They take what they are doing very seriously. They intend no disrespect to our Lord, nor do they intend in any way to make the Mass about themselves.
But that’s the problem: despite their intent, the Novus Ordo, by its nature, can (I could say “does”) make the personality of the priest an issue. It has become second nature to the clergy just as “lining up” to receive the Eucharist has become for the laity.
A Catholic priest is different in kind from Protestant clergy. At ordination, his soul undergoes an ontological change. The fact that he is called a “priest” and not a “minister” reflects this, for a priest is, by definition, one who offers a sacrifice. Only a priest, because of the change he has undergone at ordination, can act in persona Christi and change the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of our Lord at the Consecration. He says, “This is my body,” “This is my blood.” That is what it is all about. Anything that gets in the way of that is suspect.
The Novus Ordo makes the priest self-conscious in the very act of which he should be most unself-conscious. During the time when they should believe themselves to be a “useless tool,” to use Ronald Knox’s phrase, they are made to feel the center of attention. And who would not, facing a large group of people with a microphone magnifying his every word?
Again, I do not blame them. This is how they have been formed—if not by how they have been taught in the seminary or by the example of those they have followed, then by the nature of what they are doing in the Novus Ordo. For the Mass is not only a supernatural act but a natural act as well; and the natural act they are doing in the Novus Ordo is facing people, looking at them, and speaking out loud. It is stretching the limits of human recollection to think they would not be conscious of the “them” they are facing and who respond to them rather than the One to whom they are offering the sacrifice.
This seeps in in so many ways: the “greeting” many priests feel compelled to give after the opening sign of the cross; the ad-libbing of parts of the Mass (allowed by the directions in the Novus Ordo to use “similar words”); the stress, with the increased selection of readings, on making an impression during the homily during daily Mass; the asides at the end of Mass to “have a blessed day” or comment on the announcements (a decidedly jarring break just after one has received the King of kings, the Lord of Lords).
It does not help when the laity are up there doing their part: lectors trying their best to intone the readings in just the right way; choir directors interjecting directions; Eucharistic Ministers arising from the pews to take their place around the altar and then jockeying around to find their positions in the church.
Again, I intend no slight at all to those in these positions. It is all done with the best, the holiest, of intentions. But the intention of an act does not override the nature of an act.
