Entrance
PART II
INTRODUCTORY RITES
The Holy Mass is celebrated normally in a building put aside for the cult; thus, the church building is sacred. It deserves respect. No matter how grandiose the building is, how ancient and venerable, or how modern, the church is never a museum or merely a work of architecture to be admired. It is always an icon of the living Church where the people of God is gathered. The church building is a space for communion among the faithful and above all with Jesus Christ. We go there to find God, to adore Him, to praise Him, to talk to Him, and to listen to the teaching of the Church through the legitimate pastors. In it, we are strengthened with the Eucharist, our faith is renewed, and the Gospel becomes life in our soul.
The introductory rites of the Mass have a twofold purpose: to make the faithful coming together take on the form of a community, and to help them prepare themselves to listen to God’s word and celebrate the Eucharist properly.[1] These parts, therefore, are like an introduction to or preparation for the sacred action, integrated by the following elements:
• Entrance Song
• Veneration of the Altar
• Greeting of the Congregation
• Penitential Rite
• Kyrie
• Gloria
• Opening Prayer or Collect
Footnote:
[1]General Instruction of the Roman Missal [=GIRM], Second Edition 27 March 1975, no. 24; GIRM3, Third Edition 2002, no. 46.
Entrance
The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet him (Mt 25:6).
* * *
The celebration of the Mass begins with the entrance of the priest and ministers. This procession toward the altar symbolizes the journey of the pilgrim Church toward heaven. The symbolism is still clearer when the cross and the Book of the Gospel are brought: Christ, Redeemer and Teacher, assures us a safe arrival. The standing attitude of the faithful manifests both respect for the priest, the minister of Christ, and the desire to participate in the celebration.
Let us reconstruct one of the Sunday gatherings of the fifth or sixth century in Rome. The people have taken their places in the church. The service is about to begin. The door of the secretarium (which adjoins the church and where the Roman pontiff and his suite vest themselves) is opened. The procession moves down the nave, while the schola sings the psalm of entry: the Introit. The pontiff is preceded by a solemn cortege of his attendant clergy, deacons, and acolytes. A subdeacon walks at the head of the procession swinging the censer. Then in front of the celebrant and the deacons come seven acolytes, each holding lighted candles. These seven flames are a reminder of the visions of St John recorded in the Apocalypse, in which the apostle calls Christ “he who walks amidst the seven golden candlesticks” (Rev 1:12‑13 and 2:1). A young cleric reverently carries the Book of the Gospels, which is placed on the altar.
Psalms are chanted by alternating choirs—in antiphonal style, as it is called. These psalms are specially chosen for their consonance with the underlying intention of the day’s Mass. They are joyous in Advent; on a saint’s day they hymn his glorious triumph; and when the Epiphany and the Transfiguration are being commemorated, their theme was the royalty of Christ, etc. This was how the Introit became an entrance song or introduction.
In our time, there is but a vestige of this impressive rite; by a few brief words, the entrance song states the theme or point of emphasis of the Mass formulary, which it opens. It intensifies the unity of the gathered people, leads our thoughts to the mystery of the season or feast, and accompanies the procession of the priest and ministers.[1]
In Masses with a congregation, the priest and ministers may go to the altar in this order:
• a server with a lighted censer
• two servers with lighted candles
• and between them a server carrying the cross
• other ministers
• a reader with the Book of the Gospels[2]
• the priest
If incense is used, before the procession begins, the priest puts some in the thurible and blesses it with the Sign of the Cross without saying anything. During the procession to the altar the Entrance Chant is sung. The antiphon and psalm of the Graduale Romanum —or another song that is suited to this part of the Mass, the day, or the season and that has a text approved by the conference of bishops— may also be used.[3]
If there is no singing for the entrance, the antiphon in the missal is recited either by the faithful, by some of them, or by a reader; otherwise it is recited by the priest after the greeting.[4]
* * *
“Behold, the bridegroom is on his way; go out to meet him” (Mt 25:6). Like the wise virgins of the parable, we seem to hear that shout when the first notes or words of the entrance song reach our ears. It is time for us to get our lamps and go out to meet the One who is coming. Thus, we will not end up having to hear that fateful “I do not recognize you” (Mt 25:12).
“Trusting firmly in God’s grace, we are ready from this very moment to be generous and courageous, and take loving care of little things: we are ready to go and meet our Lord, with our lamps burning brightly. For the feast of feasts awaits us in heaven. ‘Dearly beloved brethren, it is we who are called to take part in the wedding feast of the Word, we who already have faith in the Church, who are nourished on sacred Scripture, and who rejoice because the Church is united to God. Ask yourselves now, I pray you, whether you have come to the feast wearing your wedding garment: examine your thoughts attentively.’[5] I assure you, and I say the same to myself, that our wedding garment has to be woven with our love of God, a love we will have learnt to reap even in the most trivial things we do. It is precisely those who are in love who pay attention to details, even when they are doing apparently unimportant things.”[6]
* * *
Christ is coming to us. He stands at the door and knocks. “Hear his knock, listen to him asking to enter, ‘Open to me..., for my head is covered with dew, and my hair with the moisture of the night.’
When does God the Son most often knock at your door?—When his head is covered with the dew of the night. He visits in love those in trouble and temptation, to save them from being overwhelmed by their trials. His head is covered with dew or moisture when those who are his body are in distress. That is the time when you must keep watch so that when the bridegroom comes he may not find himself shut out, and take his departure. If you were to sleep, if your heart were not wide awake, he would not knock but go away; but if your heart is watchful, he knocks and asks you to open the door for him.
Our soul has a door; it has gates. “Lift up your heads, O gates, and be lifted up, eternal gates, and the King of glory will enter.” If you open the gates of your faith, the King of glory will enter your house in the triumphal procession in honor of his passion.[7]
From the beginning of this Mass, we would like to remove the obstacle of our pride and lack of faith.
* * *
In the Middle Ages, the priest went to the altar reciting Psalm 42. This psalm was retained in the missal of St Pius V, which is now –substantially– the extraordinary form of the Roman Rite. It prepared the priest, and all of us, for the celebration: “Why should I go mourning, oppressed by the foe? I will come to the altar of God, the God of my joy!” (Ps 42:2.4).
“No one is shut out from this joy: all share the same reason for rejoicing. Our Lord, victor over sin and death, finding no man free from sin, came to free us all. Let the saint rejoice as he sees the palm of victory at hand. Let the sinner be glad as he is being offered his forgiveness. Let the pagan take courage as he is summoned to life.”[8]
We remember now the promise of our Lord: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them” (Mt 18:20). We contemplate the priest going towards the altar and we see Christ in him, entering his holy Church to incorporate her in his redeeming action, the sacrifice of the altar. Yes, we should be filled with joy because Christ, in the person of the celebrant, appears among us to lead us to the spring of living waters that flow continually to bring us everlasting life.[9]
Christ is going to offer the sacrifice and he is also the Victim to be offered. We receive him with joy because he is the spotless Lamb. We want to follow him and with him, to offer ourselves to the Father.
Footnotes:
[1]Cf. GIRM, no. 25; GIRM3, no. 47.
[2]Now the Book of the Gospels is usually carried by the deacon either in front of his chest (the Roman way) or raised over his head (the Byzantine way).
[3]Cf. GIRM, nos. 82-84; GIRM3, nos. 120-122.
[4]GIRM, no. 26; GIRM3, no. 48.
[5]St Gregory the Great, Homiliae in Evangelia, 38,11 (PL 76:1289).
[6]St. Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer, Friends of God, no. 41.
[7]St Ambrose, Exposition of Psalm 118, CSEL 62:258‑259.
[8]St Leo the Great, Sermo 1 in Nativitate Domini.
[9]See Jn 4:14.
INTRODUCTORY RITES
The Holy Mass is celebrated normally in a building put aside for the cult; thus, the church building is sacred. It deserves respect. No matter how grandiose the building is, how ancient and venerable, or how modern, the church is never a museum or merely a work of architecture to be admired. It is always an icon of the living Church where the people of God is gathered. The church building is a space for communion among the faithful and above all with Jesus Christ. We go there to find God, to adore Him, to praise Him, to talk to Him, and to listen to the teaching of the Church through the legitimate pastors. In it, we are strengthened with the Eucharist, our faith is renewed, and the Gospel becomes life in our soul.
The introductory rites of the Mass have a twofold purpose: to make the faithful coming together take on the form of a community, and to help them prepare themselves to listen to God’s word and celebrate the Eucharist properly.[1] These parts, therefore, are like an introduction to or preparation for the sacred action, integrated by the following elements:
• Entrance Song
• Veneration of the Altar
• Greeting of the Congregation
• Penitential Rite
• Kyrie
• Gloria
• Opening Prayer or Collect
Footnote:
[1]General Instruction of the Roman Missal [=GIRM], Second Edition 27 March 1975, no. 24; GIRM3, Third Edition 2002, no. 46.
Entrance
The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet him (Mt 25:6).
* * *
The celebration of the Mass begins with the entrance of the priest and ministers. This procession toward the altar symbolizes the journey of the pilgrim Church toward heaven. The symbolism is still clearer when the cross and the Book of the Gospel are brought: Christ, Redeemer and Teacher, assures us a safe arrival. The standing attitude of the faithful manifests both respect for the priest, the minister of Christ, and the desire to participate in the celebration.
Let us reconstruct one of the Sunday gatherings of the fifth or sixth century in Rome. The people have taken their places in the church. The service is about to begin. The door of the secretarium (which adjoins the church and where the Roman pontiff and his suite vest themselves) is opened. The procession moves down the nave, while the schola sings the psalm of entry: the Introit. The pontiff is preceded by a solemn cortege of his attendant clergy, deacons, and acolytes. A subdeacon walks at the head of the procession swinging the censer. Then in front of the celebrant and the deacons come seven acolytes, each holding lighted candles. These seven flames are a reminder of the visions of St John recorded in the Apocalypse, in which the apostle calls Christ “he who walks amidst the seven golden candlesticks” (Rev 1:12‑13 and 2:1). A young cleric reverently carries the Book of the Gospels, which is placed on the altar.
Psalms are chanted by alternating choirs—in antiphonal style, as it is called. These psalms are specially chosen for their consonance with the underlying intention of the day’s Mass. They are joyous in Advent; on a saint’s day they hymn his glorious triumph; and when the Epiphany and the Transfiguration are being commemorated, their theme was the royalty of Christ, etc. This was how the Introit became an entrance song or introduction.
In our time, there is but a vestige of this impressive rite; by a few brief words, the entrance song states the theme or point of emphasis of the Mass formulary, which it opens. It intensifies the unity of the gathered people, leads our thoughts to the mystery of the season or feast, and accompanies the procession of the priest and ministers.[1]
In Masses with a congregation, the priest and ministers may go to the altar in this order:
• a server with a lighted censer
• two servers with lighted candles
• and between them a server carrying the cross
• other ministers
• a reader with the Book of the Gospels[2]
• the priest
If incense is used, before the procession begins, the priest puts some in the thurible and blesses it with the Sign of the Cross without saying anything. During the procession to the altar the Entrance Chant is sung. The antiphon and psalm of the Graduale Romanum —or another song that is suited to this part of the Mass, the day, or the season and that has a text approved by the conference of bishops— may also be used.[3]
If there is no singing for the entrance, the antiphon in the missal is recited either by the faithful, by some of them, or by a reader; otherwise it is recited by the priest after the greeting.[4]
* * *
“Behold, the bridegroom is on his way; go out to meet him” (Mt 25:6). Like the wise virgins of the parable, we seem to hear that shout when the first notes or words of the entrance song reach our ears. It is time for us to get our lamps and go out to meet the One who is coming. Thus, we will not end up having to hear that fateful “I do not recognize you” (Mt 25:12).
“Trusting firmly in God’s grace, we are ready from this very moment to be generous and courageous, and take loving care of little things: we are ready to go and meet our Lord, with our lamps burning brightly. For the feast of feasts awaits us in heaven. ‘Dearly beloved brethren, it is we who are called to take part in the wedding feast of the Word, we who already have faith in the Church, who are nourished on sacred Scripture, and who rejoice because the Church is united to God. Ask yourselves now, I pray you, whether you have come to the feast wearing your wedding garment: examine your thoughts attentively.’[5] I assure you, and I say the same to myself, that our wedding garment has to be woven with our love of God, a love we will have learnt to reap even in the most trivial things we do. It is precisely those who are in love who pay attention to details, even when they are doing apparently unimportant things.”[6]
* * *
Christ is coming to us. He stands at the door and knocks. “Hear his knock, listen to him asking to enter, ‘Open to me..., for my head is covered with dew, and my hair with the moisture of the night.’
When does God the Son most often knock at your door?—When his head is covered with the dew of the night. He visits in love those in trouble and temptation, to save them from being overwhelmed by their trials. His head is covered with dew or moisture when those who are his body are in distress. That is the time when you must keep watch so that when the bridegroom comes he may not find himself shut out, and take his departure. If you were to sleep, if your heart were not wide awake, he would not knock but go away; but if your heart is watchful, he knocks and asks you to open the door for him.
Our soul has a door; it has gates. “Lift up your heads, O gates, and be lifted up, eternal gates, and the King of glory will enter.” If you open the gates of your faith, the King of glory will enter your house in the triumphal procession in honor of his passion.[7]
From the beginning of this Mass, we would like to remove the obstacle of our pride and lack of faith.
* * *
In the Middle Ages, the priest went to the altar reciting Psalm 42. This psalm was retained in the missal of St Pius V, which is now –substantially– the extraordinary form of the Roman Rite. It prepared the priest, and all of us, for the celebration: “Why should I go mourning, oppressed by the foe? I will come to the altar of God, the God of my joy!” (Ps 42:2.4).
“No one is shut out from this joy: all share the same reason for rejoicing. Our Lord, victor over sin and death, finding no man free from sin, came to free us all. Let the saint rejoice as he sees the palm of victory at hand. Let the sinner be glad as he is being offered his forgiveness. Let the pagan take courage as he is summoned to life.”[8]
We remember now the promise of our Lord: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them” (Mt 18:20). We contemplate the priest going towards the altar and we see Christ in him, entering his holy Church to incorporate her in his redeeming action, the sacrifice of the altar. Yes, we should be filled with joy because Christ, in the person of the celebrant, appears among us to lead us to the spring of living waters that flow continually to bring us everlasting life.[9]
Christ is going to offer the sacrifice and he is also the Victim to be offered. We receive him with joy because he is the spotless Lamb. We want to follow him and with him, to offer ourselves to the Father.
Footnotes:
[1]Cf. GIRM, no. 25; GIRM3, no. 47.
[2]Now the Book of the Gospels is usually carried by the deacon either in front of his chest (the Roman way) or raised over his head (the Byzantine way).
[3]Cf. GIRM, nos. 82-84; GIRM3, nos. 120-122.
[4]GIRM, no. 26; GIRM3, no. 48.
[5]St Gregory the Great, Homiliae in Evangelia, 38,11 (PL 76:1289).
[6]St. Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer, Friends of God, no. 41.
[7]St Ambrose, Exposition of Psalm 118, CSEL 62:258‑259.
[8]St Leo the Great, Sermo 1 in Nativitate Domini.
[9]See Jn 4:14.