Editor’s Note: Last week and this week, we have been blessed to feature a two-part piece by
on the role of silence in the Mass. Gregorian Chant plays a key role in this, thus perfectly fitting the charism of Heavenly Chant. If you missed Michelle’s post last week, you can find it here.Kneeling as the final notes of the Sanctus usher you more deeply into the courts of heaven, you listen as the priest continues with hands extended, “ ... on the night he was betrayed and entered willingly into his Passion ...” “Do I enter willingly into my own passion?” you think. For a moment you consider the crosses daily offered to you — the small irritations as well as the deep wounds — and by an act of your will you offer them to the Lord, conscious that you are mysteriously but truly present at the Last Supper when Jesus first spoke the words which the celebrant now repeats, “Take this, all of you, and eat it: this is My Body which will be give up for you.” Beholding the Blessed Sacrament raised, motionless for a timeless moment, you direct your gaze toward the elevated host. Mystically transported to the foot of the Cross, you adore Christ silently suspended between heaven and earth. Again, you bow in wordless adoration as the chalice is lifted, bearing the Precious Blood flowing from his pierced side. Hearing the priest chant, “Mysterium fidei,” your voice responds almost before you realize you are singing, “Mortem tuam annuntiamus Domine ... We proclaim your death, O Lord ... et tuam resurrectionem confitemur ... and profess your Resurrection ... donec venias ... until you come again.”
Your gaze is fixed on the altar, which now, astoundingly, holds the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Our Lord under the appearance of bread and wine. Your heart silently marvels at this great miracle — Jesus Christ, the Son of God — crucified, resurrected, and ascended — He through whom the universe was created, Who holds all things in being — the “pure ... holy ... spotless victim” and the “holy bread of eternal life” and “chalice of everlasting salvation” is truly present here, now, in a way that is real yet beyond understanding. You become aware that the room is filled with the invisible, inaudible presence of the holy angels and saints as the celebrant invokes their intercession for those who have died in Christ and for “...us, also, your servants, who, though sinners, hope in your abundant mercies...” Father, raising the precious Body and Blood of Our Lord, chants, “Through him, and with him, and in him, O God, almighty Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, for ever and ever.” This prayer, so oft repeated, brings to your awareness the greatness of the God we worship, and with your heart, soul, and mind you respond with all humility, “Amen.”
“At the Savior’s command and formed by divine teaching, we dare to say ...”Rising with the congregation, you respond, “Pater noster, qui es in caelis ...” You observe the priest, his focus on the Host, petitioning the Lord for peace, then turning to offer the peace to you and everyone else assembled. In this serene moment you receive and return the grace-filled peace to Father and to your neighbors, then join the choir, chanting, “Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis. Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. ... dona nobis pacem.” Kneeling at the conclusion of the chant, you listen in tranquil silence. Raising the Host above the chalice, Father invites you to “Behold the Lamb of God ... who takes away the sins of the world.” Looking at Him as He returns your gaze, you answer with the ancient words, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof ...” and you let your soul fall silent in humble reverence.
As the celebrant quietly consumes the Body of the Lord and the Precious Blood, you hear the communion antiphon chanted by a cantor, his voice rising and falling with the beautiful melody. Anticipating the moment when you will rise and process to the altar to receive Him into yourself, you pray in attentive silence. You watch Father serve communion to the ministers at the altar, then to the choir. Finally, it is your turn. Reverently folding your hands, you stand and proceed toward the altar, preparing your heart to receive the Lord into your own body and soul. “The Body of the Lord.” “Amen.” Returning to your pew, you kneel, marveling that Jesus has yet again humbled Himself to enter into your lowly body, to take you up into His divine life. Your heart voicelessly cries out for the grace to become all He intends you to be, thanking Him for the graces He is even, at this moment, pouring into your soul. Gradually you become aware of the schola singing, the chant shaping the silence in the room and in your heart, while your gratitude and love rise like flames of love to the Lord.
The chant gives way to a familiar melody embracing your heart. The postcommunion hymn holds you tenderly as you bask in the glow of this renewal of your union with Christ. When the priest and other ministers ascend to the altar, the music fades into silence. In these peaceful moments, you to speak with the Lord in the stillness of your heart, offering your gratitude and asking for the graces you need to receive Him fruitfully. You bring to Him your needs and desires which are so deeply embedded that you can hardly frame them into words. Words, in this moment, are not needed after all, as you are so near Him that you need not even whisper. You become aware that He knows you better than you understand yourself, so you relax into His embrace and let His presence envelop your soul.
“Let us pray,” you hear Father say after the last of the vessels are purified and restored to their places. Taking a deep breath, you rise, heart full and united with the Lord and with His Body, including those standing around you now. “The Lord be with you...” Bowing your head, you listen as Father pronounces the final blessing. You watch as he kisses the altar and walks around it and out of the sanctuary. A joyful melody sounds from the organ, inviting you to join your voice to those of the choir and congregation for the final hymn. Reverencing the processional cross and the celebrant as the priest and servers recess down the aisle, you kneel to make your final thanksgiving. The church quiets as the choir and organ fall silent. After a few moments you rise to join the others outside, turning once more toward the tabernacle to genuflect toward Jesus, who silently awaits your return. Gratitude fills you. God has come and encountered you in the silence, and you ask Him for the grace to enter into that place with Him again soon.
Author’s note: This is a reflection I wrote and published over several weeks in the bulletin at St. Patrick’s Catholic Church in Grass Valley, California. While some details are inspired by that particular parish setting, I believe it can be a fruitful meditation on any reverently celebrated novus ordo solemn mass.
I am deeply indebted to Monsigneur Marc B. Caron for his Liturgical Traditions series published in the Adoremus Bulletin. The first post is here: https://adoremus.org/2018/12/liturgical-traditions-the-entrance-procession/. His writings were invaluable in helping me envision each part of the mass as I wrote this meditation. I would also like to acknowledge inspiration from Cardinal Sarah’s “Silence in the Liturgy” https://www.catholicworldreport.com/2016/02/10/silence-in-the-liturg/, Spirit of the Liturgy by Cardinal Ratzinger, “Sounds of Silence” by Father Edward McNamarahttps://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/library/sounds-of-silence-4366, A Conversation with Stillness: The Ritual of Silence in the Mass by Father Eusebius Martis https://adoremus.org/2017/01/conversation-stillness-ritual-silence-mass/, the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, and Dr. William Mahrt’s classes and seminars which have taught me much about the Church’s liturgical traditions. Additionally, the following articles gave me inspiration: “Prescribed Periods of Silence During Mass” by Cynthia Trainique https://catholicexchange.com/prescribed-periods-silence-mass/ and 4 Benefits to Silence in the Mass by Joseph Shaw https://www.catholic.com/magazine/online-edition/4- benefits-to-silence-in-the-mass. My appreciation to all who have considered this subject and written about it for my and others’ edification and to my dear husband who helped me greatly in editing each paragraph.