We’ll leave the light on for you →

We celebrated Mass this St. Patrick’s Day, Msgr. Campion and I, once again in a darkened chapel. Just minutes before we walked down the hall to the chapel, we received notice that Bishop Kevin Rhoades of the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend had suspended all public Masses “until further notice.”

While ours was a private Mass, Monsignor made the prudent decision to make it the last one in the chapel. He will be celebrating his private Masses elsewhere without a server until public Masses can be resumed.

Tomorrow, the only lights in the chapel will once again be the sanctuary candle and the spotlight on the crucifix.

A Lenten journey through death into life →

During Lent, in the Eastern Church (both Catholic and Orthodox), priests consecrate the Eucharist only on Sundays and feast days. Throughout the year, daily liturgies are less common in the Eastern Church than they are in the Western Church, but in Lent, any daily liturgies (again, outside of feast days) take the form of the Liturgy of the Presanctified.

“Presanctified” refers to the previously consecrated bread, reserved from the Sunday liturgy. The faithful gather for a liturgy that is similar to a standard one, but without a consecration, and when the time comes for the distribution of holy Communion, the reserved body of Christ is distributed to the faithful.

In the distant past, the Roman rite practiced something similar during Lent, but today, the last remaining vestige of this practice in the Western Church is the Good Friday liturgy.

Introibo ad altare Dei →

For many years, I served the Extraordinary Form of the Mass at 6:30 a.m. at St. Mary Oratory in Rockford, Illinois. Only once in that time — in the midst of a terrible winter storm, with 60-mile per hour winds raging outside — did the Mass consist of just myself and Father Brian A.T. Bovee, our priest.

Today, I celebrated my second private Mass. On this Monday of the Third Week of Lent, in the midst of our “social distancing” measures, Monsignor Campion returned to our chapel here at OSV to say Mass — not for my sake, but, as every Mass is, for the sake of all the world.

For Whom the Bell Tolls →

The chapel here at OSV has a bell. Or rather, it has a recording of a bell that whoever is serving Mass that day activates by pushing a button in the sacristy five minutes before Mass is scheduled to begin. The recording plays throughout the building on our public-address system, sometimes triggering the prepare-for-an-announcement tone before the bells start ringing, and always ending abruptly in the midst of the last bell.

Still, we at OSV are rather fond of that bell, which reminds all of us, even when we cannot attend Mass, of the sacrifice that is about to take place and calls us to pause, however briefly, to join ourselves spiritually to that sacrifice.

Living in service of others →

Mass this morning at Sts. Peter and Paul Catholic Church in Huntington was no more sparsely attended than any previous Saturday morning. But following the guidelines established by the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend, the faithful dutifully staggered themselves among the pews. Families sat together, but everyone else maintained a healthy distance of more than 6 feet.

As in other dioceses, Bishop Kevin Rhoades has ordered the removal of missalettes and hymnals from all of the pews. I brought my copy of the March issue of Magnificat to Mass and noticed a few others who did the same, and a couple of people had their own daily missals. Seeing the hymnal board with no numbers on it was a bit more jarring than I expected, but since traditional Lenten hymns such as “These 40 Days of Lent,” “The Glory of These 40 Days,” and “O Sacred Head Surrounded” are so well known, there’s reason to hope that music will return soon to our celebration of Mass. If not, that will be one more thing that we can offer up in a spirit of Lenten sacrifice, and for the sake of all of those affected — physically, emotionally and spiritually — by the coronavirus and the measures put in place to combat it.