Prayer over the Offerings

Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
    When people talk about preparing for Mass, they often speak of getting dressed with better clothes than usual, brushing teeth, combing or brushing hair, maybe the ladies putting on make-up, maybe guys using that button-up shirt and maybe even a tie.  Or sometimes they mean looking at the readings ahead of time, which can be found at the Daily Readings tab of the usccb.org website.  Rarely do people look over the prayers that are said at Mass before they attend the Mass, but this is also a good way to prepare, as the prayers are usually based on saying from the Church Fathers, and often are poetic and filled with rich imagery.
    I want to focus today on the Prayer over the Offerings for the Solemnity of the Epiphany, which we celebrate tonight/today.  For this ancient feast, there are different prayers for the day before than for the day itself, and I want to focus on the Prayer over the Offerings for the actual day of Epiphany.  The prayer reads: “Look with favor, Lord, we pray, / on these gifts of your Church, / in which are offered now not gold or frankincense or myrrh, / but he who by them is proclaimed, / sacrificed and received, Jesus Christ. / Who lives and reigns for ever and ever.”  You will hear me chant that prayer after the altar is prepared for the celebration of the Eucharist.  It is the same prayer from the pre-Conciliar Mass, and I would guess the prayer likely is quite old, much older than even the 1570 Missal that Pope St. Pius V promulgated as a result of the Council of Trent.
    But what does the prayer say?  It is poetic, but what about the meaning?  It starts by talking about the gifts of God’s church, and asks God to receive them favorably.  Those gifts are the same gifts the Church has used since the Lord instituted the Eucharist on Holy Thursday at the Last Supper: bread and wine.  And it compares those gifts to the gifts we heard about in the Gospel: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  But it talks about how these gifts are not the same gifts of the Magi, but rather, Jesus Christ Himself, who “is proclaimed, sacrificed and received.”  It looks forward to the purpose of the presentation of these gifts of bread and wine, their transformation or transubstantiation into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.  It reminds us that what we offer here is not only our gifts, like the gifts of the Magi, but the gift of Christ Himself to the Father, the very offering of His life on the Cross, which is made present for us in an unbloody manner through the Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist.  It’s as if we being catapulted through different scenes from the Gospel: first the adoration of the Magi when Jesus was little, to the Last Supper, to the Crucifixion. 
    But it goes even deeper than that.  Because our gifts of bread and wine are meant to represent something much more precious: the gift of our very selves.  Christ is our model, and He offered His entire self to the Father, even to the shedding of His Precious Blood.  He did not hold anything back.  So we, who claim to follow Him, are meant to offer all of who we are, not so much right now in the shedding of our blood, but if the pouring out of all that has happened in our life since the last time we went to Mass like a libation, a liquid offering.  We put on that bread the credit card bill that’s due with all the charges for a Christmas dinner with the family and Christmas presents; we place the joy of conceiving a new child; the concern for an infirm family member; the sorrow of a death at what is usually such a joyous time of year; the excitement of a new job or new opportunities; the extended time spent while on vacation with the kids; the relief of sending the kids back to school.  All of that and more, really our very selves, are supposed to be united to the bread and the wine spiritually.

    And this is the gift that Jesus wants.  Sure, the gold represents Christ’s kingly identity; the frankincense His divinity; the myrrh His Death.  But Christ still wants to receive gifts from us even if we don’t have those items to offer up.  He wants us to offer ourselves, united with Him, to the Father, and to receive, like Him, new life back from the Father who never lets us remain empty-handed.  The Father transforms whatever we give Him, and returns it back to us as a vehicle of grace, a chance to grow closer to Him, which is our ultimate happiness.
    All of that, and more, from a prayer that is six lines and forty-three words long.  How often do we miss those words, not just on the Epiphany, but each Sunday, because we haven’t truly prepared ourselves for Mass?  We miss the poetry, the connections, the deeper meaning of these very deep prayers that the Church has perfected over two millennia of encounters with God. 
    Perhaps this week you can give God a little more of your time and attention.  Perhaps this week, maybe on Saturday morning or even before that, you can look ahead and try to see what the prayers for the Mass are.  Or even if you can’t do it ahead of time, to accustom yourself to paying close attention to the prayers that are said during the Mass.  Offer to God that aspect of yourself, that time of preparation, and be prepared for God to enrich your life even more than you thought, because God will not be outdone in generosity.

Participation in the Mystery

Mass of the Lord’s Supper

Sometimes you just need to mix things up a bit.  Usually, I preach on the readings, because the Word of God should be preached; St. Paul says, “Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel.”  However, tonight, to mix things up, I thought I’d preach on one of the prayers that will be said soon, what we call the Prayer over the Offerings.  This is the prayer that is said after I have prepared the bread and the wine on the altar, and have washed my hands in preparation.  

The prayer says, “Grant us, O Lord, we pray, that we may participate worthily in these mysteries, for whenever the memorial of this sacrifice is celebrated the work of our redemption is accomplished.  Through Christ our Lord.”  Maybe it sounds to you like any other prayer in the Mass, a little wordy, some unique words.  But this one in particular is very full of meaning that, if we are not paying attention, can gloss over us.  

We start out by asking God the Father to help us “participate worthily in these mysteries…”  Right now, we are participants in something.  We are not spectators (at least we are not supposed to be).  We are engaged in something.  So often the Church uses the phrase “active participation” when it comes to what we should be doing in the Mass, and because we are an active society, we tend to take it as doing something, like being a lector or an extraordinary minister or a choir member.  But active participation is always united to us giving ourselves, first and foremost interiorly, to the Father through the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit, in what is being celebrated.  Tonight, on Holy Thursday, we participate in the Lord’s Supper in a mystical way.  We do not simply remember it.  A lot of Protestant music will talk about remembering what our Lord did at the Last Supper, remembering His saving life, Death, and Resurrection.  But we don’t only remember.  We participate.  Simply remembering is for museums, which is what some churches have become.  If people understood that they participate in what we celebrate, churches would not be so empty.  

But it is not any participation.  It is a worthy participation.  And how do we worthily participate?  We respond to the prayers with the voice, we listen to the prayers with our ears, we focus our attention on what is being done, on the smoke of the incense, on the precious nature of the vessels.  And hopefully, we also come with pure souls, free from any grave sins that hinder us from being present with Jesus, just as Judas left the Upper Room.  He could not worthily participate because his heart did not belong to God.  Shortly after this prayer we are invited to lift up our hearts, to leave behind the worries and anxieties of the day, and to focus on what God is doing for us.  We say, “We lift them up to the Lord,” but do we?

The Upper Room, where Jesus celebrated the
Last Supper

In what do we participate?  Yes, I have said the Last Supper, but we participate in the mystery of the Last Supper.  This is not a Sherlock Holmes mystery.  This mystery is something which is infinite, but which breaks into our finite time and minds.  We often will mentally chide St. Peter for not understanding what was going on when Jesus tried to wash St. Peter’s feet, or the apostles who fell asleep in the Garden of Gethsemane.  But do we understand what is going on?  Do we understand that the mystery of Jesus’ Body and Blood in the Eucharist is a gift beyond description, beyond riches, beyond understanding.  St. John Vianney said that if we truly understood what happened in the Mass, then they would die of joy.  

This mystery is so great that angels themselves bow down in worship, and shield their faces from the miracle that takes place when ordinary bread and wine become the Body of Blood of Jesus.  The God whom the universe cannot contain humbles Himself and makes Himself present in the ciborium and in the chalice.  The saints, who worship with us tonight and at every Mass, join their prayers to the perfect prayer of the Mass, the perfect prayer of Jesus offering Himself to the Father.  

The place in Jerusalem where Jesus was
nailed to the cross

And the Eucharist, every Eucharist, is not simply the Last Supper, but is what the Last Supper points to, what only one of the Apostles would actually experience, the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.  Tonight only makes sense–and every Mass only makes sense–in the light of the crucifixion of Jesus on Calvary.  Jesus gave His Church, His bride, a way that His once for all sacrifice on the cross could be accessible, not only in memory, but in reality, to every member of the Church throughout the ages.  And that is why the prayer continues, “for whenever the memorial of this sacrifice is celebrated the work of our redemption is accomplished.”  Every time Mass is celebrated, Christ’s saving work continues.  That’s why we offer Masses for people, that Christ’s saving work can be applied for this person or that person, living or deceased.  Each and every day that the Mass is celebrated, salvation is achieved by Christ.  And it’s achieved here, where we get to participate in it, not watch it as spectators.  

Of course tonight we use many of our signs and symbols to impress what the prayers say.  But it’s the same at a Papal Mass, and at Mass in the gym at Powers, and at Mass here at St. Pius X Church.  Tonight, as we enter into the three intense days of our Lord’s saving action of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter, let us set aside all earthly cares, lift up our hearts to the heavenly things, and focus our spirit, mind, and body on the great mystery of our salvation, accomplished by Christ, and made present for us in the Mass.  “Grant us, O Lord, we pray, that we may participate worthily in these mysteries, for whenever the memorial of this sacrifice is celebrated the work of our redemption is accomplished.  Through Christ our Lord.”