The central act of Christian worship is the sacrifice of the Mass. This sacrifice is the same as that of the Cross, because we have the same priest, the same victim and the same purpose. It differs from the sacrifice of the Cross because it is an unbloody offering, as Christ, having died once, can die no more. The sacrifice is accompanied by various prayers and ceremonies, which form one great act of religion. In every liturgy care has been taken to prescribe a certain order for these prayers and ceremonies. In Rome this order is called Ordo Missae, or Order of the Mass. In some prayer books you will find it called the Ordinary of the Mass. The latter refers primarily to that portion of the Mass which is always the same and is not influenced by the Calendar. It is a distinguishing mark of the Roman ritual that many of the prayers, psalms, etc., change according to the seasons and the feasts. In other liturgies, as a general rule, the same forms are used all the year round. It must be understood that the different usages in the different liturgies are concerned with non-essential matters. The sacrifice itself is the same, and the words most intimately connected with the sacrifice, if not precisely the same, show by their likeness that they have been derived from a common source.
We must not suppose that the Order of the Mass as it exists now in the Roman Liturgy grew up in a day or in a year or in a century. The essential portion of it, or the sacrifice proper, was instituted by our Lord and remains precisely as He left it. This essential portion is surrounded by prayers instituted by the Apostles, which are practically the same now as they were nineteen hundred years ago. Added to these are prayers and ceremonies which have been instituted from time to time by the Church, either to prepare better for the celebration of the sacrifice or to show forth more clearly its nature to the people. All these elements have been welded into one great service of prayer and sacrifice known as the Mass. In the Eastern Churches the same elements have been taken and have been combined in a different manner. The Order alone, we must always bear in mind, differs, not the things themselves. This difference arises from the various necessities and tastes of various peoples. The Church is established to teach them, and she teaches them in the ways best adapted to their capacities. These rites and ceremonies are, as it were, the clothes of religion. They are different for different people, but the religion itself and the sacrifice which is its life remain one and the same. "Thou in the beginning, O Lord, didst found the earth: and the heavens are the work of Thy hands. They shall perish, but Thou shalt continue: and they shall grow old as a garment and as vesture shalt Thou change them and they shall be changed: but Thou art the self-same and Thy years shall not fail."
"And whereas it is becoming that holy things should be ministered in a holy manner, and whereas this sacrifice is the most holy of all things, therefore the Catholic Church, to the end that it might be worthily and reverently offered and shown forth, hath instituted many centuries ago a sacred Canon or Order which is so free from all error that there is contained therein nothing that doth not manifest in the highest degree holiness and a certain love. For it is composed both of the very words of our Lord and of the traditions of the apostles and also of the ordinances of the holy pontiffs." (Council of Trent, Session 22, Chapter 4)
The Mass to which we are accustomed is known as the Roman Mass. It is the form of the Liturgy used in Rome, and, as we saw in No. 29, is today the most widely spread of all the liturgies. The low Mass, or the Mass in its less solemn form, is that to which we are most used, and it moves so swiftly, and the parts of which it is composed are so artistically blended together, that we are accustomed to think of it as one simple action. In "Loss and Gain," Cardinal Newman puts in the mouth of one of his characters the impression it made upon him while as yet he was a new convert:
"I declare, to me, nothing is so consoling, so piercing, so thrilling, so overcoming, as the Mass, said as it is among us. I could attend Masses forever and not be tired. It is not a mere form of words it is a great action, the greatest action that can be on earth. It is, not the invocation merely, but, if I dare use the words, the evocation of the Eternal. He becomes present on the altar in flesh and blood, before whom angels bow and devils tremble. This is that awful event which is the scope, and is the interpretation of every part of the solemnity. Words are necessary, but as means, not as ends; they are not mere addresses to the throne of grace, they are instruments of what is far higher, of consecration, of sacrifice. They hurry on as if impatient to fulfill their mission. Quickly they go, the whole is quick; for they are all parts of one integral action. Quickly they go; for they are awful words of sacrifice, they are a work too great to delay upon; as when it was said in the beginning: What thou doest, do quickly. Quickly they pass; for the Lord Jesus goes with them, as He passed along the lake in the days of His flesh, quickly calling first one and then another. Quickly they pass; because as the lightning which shineth from one part of heaven unto the other, so is the coming of the Son of Man. Quickly they pass; for they are as the words of Moses, when the Lord came down in the cloud, calling on the Name of the Lord as He passed by, the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth. And, as Moses on the mountain, so we too make haste and bow our heads to the earth, and adore. So we, all around, each in his place, look out for the great Advent, waiting for the moving of the water. Each in his place, with his own heart, with his own wants, with his own thoughts, with his own intention, with his own prayer, separate but concordant, watching what is going on, watching its progress, uniting in its consummation; not painfully and hopelessly following a hard form of prayer from beginning to end, but, like a concert of musical instruments, each different, but concurring in sweet harmony, we take our part, with God's priest, supporting him, yet guided by him. There are little children there, and old men, and simple laborers, and students in seminaries, priests preparing for Mass, priests making their thanksgiving; there are innocent maidens, and there are penitent sinners; but out of these many minds rises one eucharistic hymn, and the great Action is the measure and scope of it."
While this is true, it is true also that even from our childhood we are accustomed to notice certain points in the service or marks of division, so to speak, in the program. The changing of the book for the Gospel .stands out perhaps as our earliest recollection. It was the danger signal that told us if we were late for Mass. As a matter of fact, in the daily low Mass it indicates an ancient and fundamental difference in the service. It marks the end of what may be called the "Sunday School" and the beginning of the sacrifice. Then on Sundays we could not fail to notice the collection and the ringing of the little bell at the Sanctus and the Elevation. The Communion, also, was impressed on our memory, especially when we began ourselves to go up with the people to receive Our Blessed Lord. Scarcely had we returned to our place when we knelt for the priest's blessing and stood for the last Gospel, and the Mass was over. With these familiar points in our minds, let us now proceed to study how the great Action is made up.
- taken from The Mass, by Father Peter Christopher Yorke