Mass and Elastic Beds

Translations are useful, no doubt about it. Nonetheless, there is one phrase that, so far, has never been properly translated, and that is the very last sentence of the Roman Mass. “Ite, missa est” is translated into English as follows: “The Mass is ended, go in peace.” Its equivalent in Spanish is quite similar to the English translation: “Podéis ir en paz, la Misa ha terminado.”

Unfortunately, those translations are far from being faithful to the Latin sentence. “Ite” is actually an order: “Go!” It seems as if deacon or the priest is expelling us from the Church.

There is much discussion around the last two words “missa est.” Some people state there is a word missing. Benedict XVI points out that “missa est” was commonly understood as a dismissal, but in Christian language it has a deeper meaning. It implies our mission as Christians (cf Sacramentum Caritatis, 51).

From this point of view, the end of the Mass can be conceived as the beginning of something else, our starting-point as missionaries.

This interpretation is consistent with what Pope Francis said last week: “Immigrants dying at sea, in boats which were vehicles of hope and became vehicles of death. That is how the headlines put it. When I first heard of this tragedy a few weeks ago, and realized that it happens all too frequently, it has constantly come back to me like a painful thorn in my heart. (…) Who is responsible for the blood of these brothers and sisters of ours? Nobody! That is our answer: It isn’t me; I don’t have anything to do with it; it must be someone else, but certainly not me. Yet God is asking each of us: “Where is the blood of your brother which cries out to me?” Today no one in our world feels responsible; we have lost a sense of responsibility for our brothers and sisters.”

Indeed, if we go to the Mass to gather energies to go to the world afterwards, we might feel a little bit more responsible for what is going on in our surroundings.

For us, Christians, attending Mass should be like jumping on an elastic bed. The more we jump, the higher we would be propelled. “Ite, missa est” should be understood as a calling to fulfil the missionary commandment uttered by Jesus at the end of Mark’s Gospel: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature” (Mk 16:15). The Mass has finished, now go out and preach the gospel. Do your best to heal the sufferings of needy with the light and the fire of your faith.

We, Christians, should face reality in a quite new fashion. Instead of complaining about the evil in this world, we should examine our conscious by asking: What else can I do to prevent those tragedies to take place?

We should keep on practising our faith. We should keep on attending Mass every Sunday (and even more often). But we should keep in mind that we are entering church just for one purpose. In order to be propelled at the end of the Mass further than ever, higher than ever, for the sake of the evangelisation.

Massmates

The Pope said last week, “And now, we take up this journey:  Bishop and People.  This journey of the Church of Rome which presides in charity over all the Churches.  A journey of fraternity, of love, of trust among us.  Let us always pray for one another.  Let us pray for the whole world, that there may be a great spirit of fraternity.”

Praying for one another. As these were one of the very first words of our brand new Pope, I think all of us, Catholics, are willing to put them into practice.  However, how should we start?—It seems sound to begin by praying for the ones who are closer to us.

I attend Holy Mass (almost) daily at 7:30 am in the same neighbourhood where I live and work. And I am not alone. Every morning, an average of 100 people attends the very same Mass.

So far, it hasn’t occurred to me to pray for the ones that fill the pews of my parish. I would like to call them my Massmates. For sure I am not obliged to pray for them (as I am not obliged to attend Mass during the week), but it seems to me to be a great thing to do.

The minute I think in praying for my Massmates, they appear to me in a quite new perspective. They no longer are just the ones sat around me, the ones who repeat the same prayers. They are real people. Girls, boys, ladies and gentlemen. Each one with his/her own stories, projects, preoccupations, joys and sorrows. Each one wanting to praise the same God I praise. Each one wanting to begin his/her workday by the Beginning: The Triune God.

For me is not that easy to get to 7:30 am Mass at time. I need to wake up very early. Then I have to have breakfast minding not to brake the one-hour fast before receiving communion. If time allows me, I also do some exercises before having a shower and getting dressed.

When thinking about my Massmates I realise they all have to struggle to arrive at 7.30 am. For sure most of them live and work much farer than I. Probably, for them is harder than for me to get there punctually. However, there they are, every day, not complaining but happy to participate in the most holy sacrifice. My Massmates are great.

It is true that Pope Francis also encouraged us to pray for the world, which is highly important. However, it seems more problematic praying for actual people than for the world. In fact, as the world is faceless and nameless, it is unlikely that we would get angry at or hate the world. On the contrary, it is not difficult to get angry, hate or even ignore the ones that surround us.

From this point of view, praying for the ones who are closer to us (even physically) could be a sensible means to enlarge our hearts in order to undertake the most challenging task: Spreading the word of God throughout the world.