A Column by Fr. Andrew Vitrano, Parochial Vicar
My Dear Friends:
As I was celebrating Mass recently, I became fixated on the part of the Preface dialogue where the faithful answer the priest’s exhortation to thank the Lord by responding, “it is right and just.”
If that’s not interesting enough, the priest then prays, “it is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation.” So, not only is it right and just, but, apparently, thanksgiving is our duty and is linked to our very salvation!
Whether it is a Sunday Mass, a saint’s feast day, the celebration of a sacrament or even a funeral Mass, that part of the Preface remains constant. Those words are inescapable and yet how many times have I heard the Preface—even prayed it myself as a celebrant—and never given them more than a passing thought? How frequently do we say something and are oblivious to its meaning! What does it mean that thanksgiving is “right and just” and why is it supposedly my duty and my salvation?
Later, as I was poring over resources on my bookshelf to find an explanation, I came across an ancient Preface from the Alexandrian Rite, attributed to St. Mark the Evangelist:
It is truly right and just…to give you thanks night and day with lips that never cease speaking, lips that never fall still, and with hearts that are never silent. For you made the heavens and all they contain, the earth and all that is in it, the sea, the springs, the lakes…and all that is in them. You made human beings in your image and likeness and gave them the enjoyment of paradise. When they had broken your commandment, you did not despise and abandon them but in your goodness called them anew through the Law. You instructed them through the prophets. Finally, you restored and renewed them through this awesome, lifegiving and heavenly mystery. And you did all this through him who is your wisdom and the true light, your Son, our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ…
Whereas we are accustomed to variations of the Preface which emphasize some aspects of a particular liturgical celebration (e.g., feast days, sacraments, and funerals), the Alexandrian Rite used this Preface alone. Notice how, after affirming that thanksgiving is “right and just,” the Preface then recounts all of salvation history. Perhaps the meaning of “right and just” becomes clearer when we consider another sense of the original Greek word axios: worthy. God is worthy of our thanks because of the marvelous deeds He has accomplished. We are the objects of His love and the recipients of His saving work; it is precisely because of what He has done for us that He is worthy of our thanksgiving. To give thanks to God, then, is not merely an act of devotion but an act of justice, since, in the Catholic understanding, justice consists in giving to each what is their due. God is due our thanks and praise because everything we have and everything we hope for comes from Him, most especially our restoration and salvation. Our relationship with God—not only our personal relationship with Him, but the more fundamental relationship between creature and Creator, redeemed and Redeemer—makes thanksgiving our duty. What is a more fitting response to such unmerited gifts than to offer God our continual thanks and praise?
Our continual thanksgiving is intimately connected to our salvation because of the transformative nature of worship. The more we thank God, the more we become aware of our radical dependence on Him. The more we become aware of our dependence, the more we recognize His providence in every aspect of our lives. The more we recognize His abundant generosity toward us, the more we understand how radically we are loved. The more we realize how much we are loved, the greater our desire for union with God becomes. As this desire for union grows, we become more open to God’s will and increasingly conformed to Christ, loving as he loved.
Given the beauty and depth of such a short phrase—right and just—I would like to conclude with a note that I have been harping on as of late in Masses and which resonates with Fr. Manny’s “Project 101.” If even I, a priest, can be inattentive to the words so often heard at Mass, I would wager that many regular Mass-goers experience the same. We become so familiar with the words and gestures of the liturgy that we forget the profound mysteries they express. Sacrosanctum Concilium, Vatican II’s document on the liturgy, calls for “fully conscious and active participation.” This does not simply mean doing more things, such as serving as a lector, singing, or serving as an extraordinary minister of Holy Communion when necessary. While such activities can be forms of participation, the Council’s vision is deeper: Mother Church calls us to be fully present in mind, body, and soul.
Do we prepare ourselves to enter the sacred by avoiding distractions and quieting ourselves? Do we take time with our gestures so that we are mindful of their symbolism, or do we perform them hurriedly so that the sign of the cross becomes unrecognizable? Have we sought to educate ourselves on the rich history and symbolism that shape the Mass? Do we actively listen to the readings and prayers at Mass, which are themselves theology being prayed? Do we bring questions that arise in our hearts during the liturgy to the clergy for counsel, or more importantly, to the Lord in prayer?
As Fr. Manny said in his column last week, we will be offering more opportunities for formation as we move forward with “Project 101,”, but we hope that this is not just attended by the usual suspects, but by all our parishioners. Our hope is that, as we return to the basics, we can foster a rediscovery of the beauty of our faith and give thanks and praise to God for the marvelous deeds He has done for us.
After all, “it’s right and just, our duty and our salvation.”
God Bless You All,
Fr. Andrew

