I am a cradle Catholic born in 1981. Since August of 2008 I have been exclusively attending the Tridentine Mass. In the 5 years prior to this date I had attended Tridentine Mass only a handful of times, and no other time at all before that.
What I will try to relate here is my personal relationship with the Tridentine Mass and how I have become enamored with it. Subsequent blog posts will explore how it has strengthened my Faith and contributed to my spiritual growth in Hope and Charity.
The first few times I went to Tridentine Mass I must admit I did not understand much, or feel much for that matter. I was actually a little lost and too busy trying to find out what was going on to really let it show me. Once I embraced it, meaning I knew I was going to let it teach me faithfully and without expectations, I began to see different sides of it.
It is with this spirit of wonder that I began to develop a personal and intimate connection with the Tridentine Mass, little by little, like a puzzle at the end of which there are tons of surprises, and in this case, an infinite supply of spiritual graces.
Slowly, with both the Low and the High Mass I started learning little things that produced great love in my heart.
One of the first things with which I connected, is at the beginning of the Mass, when the Priest confesses his own sins in the Confiteor. Not only does he recite it, but throughout the prayer, you can also see him bowing before the Altar and slowly moving left and right as he confesses his sins. After he finishes this prayer, the Servers pray for him beginning with, ‘May almighty God have mercy upon thee’ …
Then it’s the Servers’ turn to do the same prayer, and we the laity are to see this as our part and to follow closely in our hearts. In the part of the mea culpa, as the Servers strike their breasts, we are also invited to gently strike our breast three times. The rubrics also inform us that at this time that we are to dispose ourselves toward true contrition. The subtlety with which the three small strikes are done by each person makes it so personal, as if we are alone before God. This may be a small physical interaction, but in essence it requires full concentration to follow it.
After observing this for a few Masses, it began to feel very natural, and after a while longer I was able to begin to recite the prayer in Latin by heart.
Nowadays, even without a Missal or any auditory cues, I can recognize the movement of the Priests and the Servers, and my heart has been trained to pray for the Priest at the time in which he bows down, and express contrition at the time in which the Servers do. And even though my physical participation is small, each little strike is so meaningful, and I look forward to this subtle but symbolic movement every Sunday.
This to me is the wonder of the Latin Mass. Rather than less participation from the laity, there is more. It demands me to be spiritually present and to be paying close attention to every word, every movement. It demands a synchronicity that must be genuine, one that can easily be avoided without anybody else noticing, ensuring therefore that each action is real when it does take place. I will relate another similar example to that of my experience with the Confiteor.
Everywhere in the Missal as it goes through the Mass one can see there are little Crosses indicating that at the moment a certain phrase is said by the Priest, one is to do the Sign of the Cross. It requires me to be alert for them, not mechanistically, but following the words (I don’t even have to know their meaning in English, just the Latin will do!) and I have come to realize that a majority of them are said around a particular time when the name of the Lord has been mentioned in a special way.
As I go through Mass, if I ever zone out or lose sight of the prayer, all it takes is a subtle Sign of the Cross for me to once again focus on God. Sometimes the Priest does not necessarily say things out loud or I cannot hear him – nonetheless, by his motions and by the time in the Mass, I know that I must do the Sign of the Cross. This is again the wonderful synchronicity that the Mass demands.
The subtleties are everywhere. In the 10 months I have been attending the Mass I have not stopped discovering. Every Sunday a new subtlety is opened or an old one deepened. But it is not about the discovery itself, it is the depth in which they take me that is fascinating. Each new subtlety is but another key into the Mystical Body of Christ. Rather than an emotionally charged experience, the Mass is a quiet pacification of the spirit – a deepening of contrition, reverence, prayer and exaltation of Christ.
What I have come to find out is that, The Tridentine Mass, like the philosophical and theological tradition of the Church, uses a perfect architecture; its artistic and spiritual elevation being so high that at first it seems distant, but once embraced, it is as close and intimate as the most rural of villages. Like a fine wine, it opens up its sweetness after it breathes fresh air. Likewise, the Mass after we let it settle in our soul, breathes fresh air into us, and as we feel the cool breeze we suddenly hear the river of everlasting water coming from the distance.
I am enamored with the Mass. What was once a responsibility, it is now my repose – my strength. My heart beats in a special way when I think about the Mass. It beats quietly and graciously. I am being pacified and my will is slowly giving in. The Rite is teaching me, slowly and deeply what the Sacrifice is. And that is a topic which deserves another post.
