My First Mass

After my first Mass, I'll never forget sitting in the coffee shop with my friend. I was staring out a window, sipping some coffee and thinking about what I had just experienced. Tears welled up in my eyes and I asked in bewilderment, "Why are we separated? That was the most Christ centered 'service' I have ever been to."

I remember thinking that this whole Protestant/Catholic thing was a big sham. I grew up my entire life thinking that Catholics were unbiblical, disregarding Jesus, and instead worshiped idols, Mary, and worked their way to heaven. I was expecting something foreign at Mass. But what I got went something like this:

• Prayer and repentance (to Jesus)
• Old testament reading
• Psalm
• New Testament Reading 
• Gospel (we stand up because Jesus is talking)
• Prayer
• Partake of Jesus in the Eucharist
• Prayer

In 155 A.D., St. Justin Martyr describes something eerily similar here. I had read that before, but it didn't click; but it would make sense when I would read it later. In Luke 24, after the Resurrection, Jesus does something very similar to this with his disciples.

A question that emerged for me on my journey was "Why do all of the ancient churches practice a somewhat similar liturgy?" Was this a novelty or was it something that Christ taught them? I think the logistical limitations of early Christians make it being a novelty quite impossible. Rather, what makes a lot more sense, is that Jesus taught his disciples how to worship and that they went out and established communities who worshiped within those liturgical frameworks. I think we get more than a shadow of it in Luke 24. What this conclusion also bears is the reality of extra biblical tradition. I will talk about that on another day.

When I considered the Mass, I also noticed a beautiful narrative that unfolds. The story of salvation history. As I started to understand the Mass as heavenly worship brought to earth and as the priest operating in persona Christi (because there is only One High Priest), the procession into the Church of the priest only made sense. When we stood we were acknowledging Father Neff not qua John Neff, we were acknowledging Father Neff qua Jesus Christ. This was his time. And, what the brief run-down above shows is that all of us must enter into the historic unfolding of salvation in time and space to understand the The Good News: The Gospel. However, that is not enough. 

Like the disciples our hearts are "burning for him" (Luke 24:32), but even when Christ himself preached the Gospel to them, their eyes were not truly open until he "took the bread, blessed it ("this is my body"), and gave it to them" (Luke 24:31). At their realizing he vanished from their sight. That morning I will admit that I did not see Jesus in the flesh kind of like the disciples who in receiving the Blessed Sacrament looked up to find their Lord disappeared. However, I was certain that He was there. Somehow, Christ was with us that morning. To the side of the altar was a place where they put the communion that was not consumed after the consecration. Because Catholics believe that it is truly Jesus and no longer bread, they could never disgard it like a common piece of trash. Instead, left over "hosts" are put in a tabernacle. As I peered over in the direction of the tabernacle, I asked myself, "Jesus, could it be YOU?"

If it was, I knew how this story would go.

Baptism

The word baptism comes from the Greek "to wash". As a Protestant, who believed that baptism was an external sign of an internal reality, I never stopped to ask myself why our Lord gave the sacrament such a name. If in fact it was meant to wash, wash what?

If anyone has ever been to a baptism, they might notice that afterwords (an evangelical baptism or otherwise), no one has been sufficiently cleansed externally by the ritual. In the case of the SB, the fresh smell of the chlorine might actually leave one in need of a bath following the ritual. If done in the Jordan river the afore is even more obvious. Yes, this cleansing cannot be external, which leaves us with only another option:

Baptism transforms the inner man. It washes us clean, from the inside-out.

I guess one still might argue that the washing was a metaphor for the symbolic nature of the salvific act of Christ that had already been accomplished. However, a reading of the end of Matthew, "Go make disciples, washing them (baptizing) in the name of the Father, Son, & Holy Spirit...", makes no real sense with that reading. Instead, I am content to now have a coherent view of the sacrament of baptism. When Christ washes you, beware, he is coming for your soul!