My Dear Friends,

       As we continue to journey through Lent, I would like to share with you this reflection that our neighbor, Father Richard Vigoa, pastor of St. Augustine, wrote recently to members of the clergy on the liturgy.  Father Vigoa not only is the pastor of our neighboring parish but is also the head of the Archdiocesan Office of Worship and is about to finish his doctorate in liturgy in Rome. I ask you to read this reflection and pray about how you approach the Mass every Sunday. Is it merely an obligation or a search for a genuine encounter with our Lord?

God bless you all,

The Ancient Mass and the Call to Authentic Worship 

What happens at Mass is not just a weekly routine or a personal devotion — it is an encounter with the living God, a participation in the worship of the early Church, and a foretaste of the heavenly liturgy. Suppose we ever doubt the importance of how we celebrate the liturgy. In that case, we need only turn to one of the earliest Christian witnesses, St. Justin Martyr, who described the Eucharist with striking clarity nearly 1,900 years ago. 

In his First Apology, written in the second century, Justin provides a detailed account of the Eucharistic celebration. His description is remarkable — not just because it proves the ancient roots of our liturgical worship but also because it shows the intimate connection between the liturgy and the life of faith. 

“Having ended the prayers, we salute one another with a kiss. There is then brought to the president of the brethren bread and a cup of wine mixed with water; and he taking them, gives praise and glory to the Father of the universe, through the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and offers thanks at considerable length for our being counted worthy to receive these things at His hands.” (First Apology, 65) 

Even in the early years of the Church, the structure of the Mass was already in place: the assembly of believers, communal prayers, the Eucharistic thanksgiving offered by the presiding minister, and the distribution of Holy Communion. What stands out most, however, is how the early Christians approached the liturgy—with awe, gratitude, and the conviction that it was essential to their salvation.  

Justin does not present the Mass as something casual or adapted to personal preferences. Instead, he describes a solemn and ordered act of worship, one in which every part is directed toward God with reverence and devotion. The faithful did not simply attend; they actively participated, expressing their assent with the great “Amen” and receiving the Eucharist with a profound awareness of its significance. 

This ancient testimony should challenge us today. The way we celebrate the liturgy shapes people’s faith. When Mass is celebrated with beauty, dignity, and fidelity to the Church’s tradition, it lifts the hearts of the faithful toward God and immerses them in the mystery of salvation. On the other hand, when the liturgy is treated as a performance, entertainment, or a mere obligation, it risks becoming something that people endure rather than encounter. 

As ministers, musicians, lectors, and faithful participants, we must ask ourselves: Does our liturgical celebration reflect the reality that St. Justin and the early Christians knew? Do we approach the Eucharist as the most sacred moment of our day, or have we allowed routine and distraction to take hold? 

The Eucharistic celebration is not just about preserving an ancient tradition but drawing souls into the mystery of Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection. It is about forming disciples who, as Justin says, “may be counted worthy, now that we have learned the truth, by our works also to be found good citizens and keepers of the commandments.” 

This is why liturgy matters—and why doing it well matters. It is not for aesthetics or personal preference but because the way we worship shapes what we
believe and how we live. The early Christians knew this. Do we? 

– Father Richard Vigoa