Last Sunday, I assisted at the 8am and 12pm Masses. I held the Chalice of the Precious Blood during the doxology as usual.
However, something happened at the 12pm Mass that deeply moved my heart. Something was different this time.
The new parish administrator, Fr. Glenn, is taller than me. After he handed the Sacred Chalice to me, he then held the paten containing the Body of Our Lord at a significant height and prayed the words of the doxology (see below). I had to really elevate the Chalice as high as my short stature could, since Fr. Glenn raised the paten containing the Host pretty high up. For a few seconds, I even felt like I was almost tiptoeing to elevate the Chalice to match his height. My arms were extended as high as I could lift them. My left hand, which normally touches the base of the Chalice, could barely touch the base this time. All my effort was exerted at lifting the Chalice as is proper for the deacon.
And in my heart, the following happened. As I elevated the Chalice level to the same level of where the priest was lifting up the paten that held the Sacred Host, my eyes were forced to look upward. My arms were stretched as far as I could. During that time as my eyes looked intensely upward and my entire body directed toward the same direction of the priest's elevation, I first thought of a certain silent AWE of the Heavenly Father's presence as I held up the Chalice while the priest offered the Body and Blood to Him. My breathing increased. My focus was on that of the presence of Our Heavenly Father. I cannot even remember listening to the priest's words.
My second thought was how I imagined my unworthy self collecting a few drops of the Blood of Jesus on Calvary onto the rim of the Chalice I was holding, as though I had somehow scooped some of the Blood that came out of Jesus's Body as He hung upon the Cross. I briefly thought of the lance of St. Longinus, the Roman soldier who according to legend was the one that pierced Jesus with a lance and was later ordained a deacon after receiving baptism. And as I looked up thinking these thoughts about collecting Jesus's Precious Blood in the Chalice, I thought of the silent awesomeness of the Heavenly Father. For a moment, I had a brief instance where my eyes welled up while my breathing deepened.
I was before a great mystery! Were it not for the grace of ordination and the thought that I had been ordained for such purpose, I absolutely would have not done this profound act of the Mass. I, for a moment, thought of my sins, but they seemed minuscule compared to the diaconal act that I had just made during this moment of the Sacred Liturgy. My unworthiness was not the point of the moment, but rather it was the Sacrifice of Calvary as though my being a sinner could not obscure or detract from the sacrifice taking place before me and the people gathered for Mass as well as before my heart and mind's eye.
The Holy Mass is the same sacrifice on Calvary but in an unbloody manner. The consecrated wine I held up at Mass during the doxology was the same Blood that poured out for us on Calvary. This recent doxology was a very intense moment that lasted only a few seconds, and nobody would have noticed it but for my writing it here. I'm not even sure if my re-telling of the moment does justice to what happened. These are just some points of prayerful meditation on the Mass. Thank you for listening. I joyfully submit this all to the judgment of Holy Mother Church.
However, something happened at the 12pm Mass that deeply moved my heart. Something was different this time.
The new parish administrator, Fr. Glenn, is taller than me. After he handed the Sacred Chalice to me, he then held the paten containing the Body of Our Lord at a significant height and prayed the words of the doxology (see below). I had to really elevate the Chalice as high as my short stature could, since Fr. Glenn raised the paten containing the Host pretty high up. For a few seconds, I even felt like I was almost tiptoeing to elevate the Chalice to match his height. My arms were extended as high as I could lift them. My left hand, which normally touches the base of the Chalice, could barely touch the base this time. All my effort was exerted at lifting the Chalice as is proper for the deacon.
And in my heart, the following happened. As I elevated the Chalice level to the same level of where the priest was lifting up the paten that held the Sacred Host, my eyes were forced to look upward. My arms were stretched as far as I could. During that time as my eyes looked intensely upward and my entire body directed toward the same direction of the priest's elevation, I first thought of a certain silent AWE of the Heavenly Father's presence as I held up the Chalice while the priest offered the Body and Blood to Him. My breathing increased. My focus was on that of the presence of Our Heavenly Father. I cannot even remember listening to the priest's words.
My second thought was how I imagined my unworthy self collecting a few drops of the Blood of Jesus on Calvary onto the rim of the Chalice I was holding, as though I had somehow scooped some of the Blood that came out of Jesus's Body as He hung upon the Cross. I briefly thought of the lance of St. Longinus, the Roman soldier who according to legend was the one that pierced Jesus with a lance and was later ordained a deacon after receiving baptism. And as I looked up thinking these thoughts about collecting Jesus's Precious Blood in the Chalice, I thought of the silent awesomeness of the Heavenly Father. For a moment, I had a brief instance where my eyes welled up while my breathing deepened.
I was before a great mystery! Were it not for the grace of ordination and the thought that I had been ordained for such purpose, I absolutely would have not done this profound act of the Mass. I, for a moment, thought of my sins, but they seemed minuscule compared to the diaconal act that I had just made during this moment of the Sacred Liturgy. My unworthiness was not the point of the moment, but rather it was the Sacrifice of Calvary as though my being a sinner could not obscure or detract from the sacrifice taking place before me and the people gathered for Mass as well as before my heart and mind's eye.
The Holy Mass is the same sacrifice on Calvary but in an unbloody manner. The consecrated wine I held up at Mass during the doxology was the same Blood that poured out for us on Calvary. This recent doxology was a very intense moment that lasted only a few seconds, and nobody would have noticed it but for my writing it here. I'm not even sure if my re-telling of the moment does justice to what happened. These are just some points of prayerful meditation on the Mass. Thank you for listening. I joyfully submit this all to the judgment of Holy Mother Church.
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