Priests wash their hands during Mass at the preparation of the gifts as a symbolic washing of everyone's hands, a symbolic washing of the iniquity and sins of all of God’s priestly people. This action is always connected with the preparation of the gifts. Although, in the New Missal, rubrics call for the presider to wash his hands after the washing of the feet on Holy Thursday... thank God, someone was thinking.

This brings us to the act of washing feet at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday. What were Jesus’ intentions and reasons for washing the feet of the apostles? The practice at that time was to offer a visitor water to wash his own feet upon welcoming him into the home and again before he set out again on the road. This was common hospitality. If a host was wealthy, a servant or slave would do this. It was unheard of that the host would perform this demeaning task. This is obvious when we see Peter’s response to Jesus’ offer to wash his feet.

So why did Jesus do it? In the Gospel of Mark, just before the triumphal entrance into Jerusalem, James and John ask Jesus for places at his right and left. The rest of the Apostles find out and are arguing about it. The Gospel of John does not relate this contention among the Apostles but we can be sure that it occurred. This last act and introduction to Jesus’ last discourse before his arrest is a sign of profound humility and a response to the contention among the Apostles as to who is the greatest among them.

Be humble and the Lord will be merciful!

The necessity for ritual cleanliness finds a place in every religious tradition. Even today, mosques are built with fountains in their courtyards so that the faithful can wash before prayer. Jewish washing and kosher requirements are well known and Catholics bless themselves with holy water whenever they enter a church.

Within the context of Holy Week, we have a slight twist on the significance of washing. In the story of the Passion read on Palm Sunday and Good Friday, the most obvious description of washing of hands is the action of Pilate washing his hands of guilt after handing Jesus over to be crucified. In fact, in the old Tridentine rite, where every action of the priest was described as symbolic of the story of the Passion, the washing of hands was described as symbolic of the washing of Pilate’s hands. Modern church historians and liturgists have disputed this analogy since the priest as ‘alter Christus’ cannot at the same time be ‘alter’ Pilate. Historians will add that the washing of hands came about in the early Church because, at the time of the preparation of the gifts, the priests would bless things, accept gifts (food, livestock, etc.) for the Church, etc. and so needed to wash up afterwards.

The continued practice during the preparation of the gifts, however, is not just a vestige of a practical liturgical action that was done in the early Church. The Church maintains the practice of the washing of hands as a sign of the ritual purity of the priest, and by extension, the priestly people who are celebrating the Eucharist, the sacrifice
of Thanksgiving and can be a reminder of the cleansing of sin at baptism. This meaning of the washing of hands is demonstrated by the words of the priest during the washing, “Lord, wash me of my iniquity, cleanse me of my sins.” It is actually a practice that goes back to the rituals of the Temple of Jerusalem where Jesus would have
witnessed the exposition of the ‘showbread’ every Passover of his life. The washing of the priests’ hands during Mass at the preparation of the gifts is the symbolic washing of everyone's hands, a symbolic washing of the iniquity and sins of all of God’s priestly people. This action is always connected with the preparation of the gifts.

Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells.
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells 
by Edgar Allen Poe

This poem by Edgar Allen Poe describes perfectly why churches chose bells from very early times to make “a joyful noise unto the Lord.” (Ps. 98) Going back to St. Paulinus, the Bishop of Nola (near Naples, Italy) in the 5th Century, bells were rung in monasteries to call monks (out of a nice nap) to worship (or to another nap, depending on the worship experience.) By the 7th Century, Pope Sabinianus approved the use of bells to call the faithful to morning Mass. The tolling of bells at requiem Masses is attributed to St. Bede in the 8th Century. By the 9th Century, bells were commonplace in churches throughout the Latin Church. Note that these were not the small handbells common today, but the large bells hung in the church tower or belfry. In the 13th Century, one of these bells, typically the largest one, was rung at the elevations during Mass. Many of the extant churches of this time still have a line of sight, some with the use of mirrors and “peepholes” so that the bell ringer (usually a minor cleric, not a hunchback) could ring the bell at the proper time. The purpose of the ringing of the bell was to alert those who were outside of the church, not those inside, that the Mass was at the consecration so that those who were unable to attend the Mass could pause and offer a prayer. The purpose of the bells was not, as is commonly held, to quiet down whatever was going on inside the church in order to get people’s attention. Most churches were quite small and the people could easily see, even with the priest’s back to them. In later centuries, smaller bells with higher tones were used.


The Council of Trent mandated the use of bells in the celebration of Mass in 1545. By this time, the smaller “Sanctus bells” had become popular. These bells were rung at the epiclesis (when the priest extends his hands over the gifts, calling down the Holy Spirit), at the two elevations and at the priest's communion.

It is a common misunderstanding of the General Instruction on the Roman Missal that the use of bells was terminated for the Novus Ordo Mass. In our newest GIRM, #150 says the following: “A little before the Consecration, if appropriate, a minister rings a small bell as a signal to the faithful. The minister also rings the small bell at each elevation by the Priest, according to local custom.”

The bells of the church are silenced after the Gloria at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday and are not rung until the Gloria of the Mass of the Easter Vigil. This, like the absence of the Alleluia during the entire Season of Lent, is likened to a fast. 

The tintinnabulation of the bells has been a tradition of the Church for more than 1600 years. The sound of the bells reminds us of the joy of the Resurrection and directs our hearts to the praise of God.

I am sure we have all heard the idiom, “It’s in the mail.” Of course, when we say that something is “in the mail”, we really mean that it is not and probably will never be in the mail. How different it is with the Lord. With God, something that is sent is received (for good or ill) at the same time. It is always our response that is the variable. Our journey of faith is the story of our response to the reception of God’s gift of life, our response to God’s blessing.

In our Gospel, Jesus is “sent by the Spirit” into the desert where he is received by ministering angels after being tempted by Satan. He is then ready to be sent back to begin his ministry of announcing the Kingdom of God, the blessing that we receive from his death and resurrection.

Today, the First Sunday of Lent, we celebrate our Rite of Sending and Election of our Catechumens, those who will be received by our Archbishop for Sacraments of Initiation this coming Easter. These men and women are now rightfully called the Elect, those chosen for initiation. So as we begin the discipline of Lent, we look forward
to the great celebration of the Resurrection and the Sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and Eucharist in which we enter into the mystery of the life of the Church.

The rite, itself, is a reminder of a time in the early Church when all those entering into communion in our faith were baptized by the bishop. In this early Church, the role of the bishop was much closer to the role of the pastor in today’s Church. The Rite of Sending and Election in the new Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults is a reminder of this ancient tradition, connecting the Sacraments of Initiation with the Office of Bishop and the authority of the Apostles to call on the Holy Spirit who enlivened the Church at the first Pentecost to strengthen and bless these men and women, new members of our faith.

Please pray for our new Elect as they continue their faith journey to Easter.

A popular movie in the past year was titled The Way and described a father’s journey along the ancient pilgrim’s route across France and Spain to the city of St. James, Santiago de Compostela as he tried to come to terms with the tragic death of his son. In the journey and through the people whom he met, the father’s life is changed forever as he finds his answers not at the end of the journey but along the way. This is the key to all pilgrimages, whether they be many miles or just a few feet.

Most religious traditions include the practice of pilgrimage as either a required or suggested discipline for serious adherents to a particular faith. Ancient Jews made yearly pilgrimage to the Temple of Jerusalem, Hindus for many centuries have made the trek to the holy cities on the Ganges River and ancient Celts included trips to sacred wells. Muslims include the haj as the fifth pillar of Islam, a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in a lifetime as an act of ultimate worship and submission to God. Christians have many sites of pilgrimage but the original pilgrimage site for Christians was the place of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.

Pilgrimages to the Holy Land have been popular since the 4th Century and many of the original churches and chapels over holy sites date from that period. The Via Dolorosa, Via Crucis or Way/Stations of the Cross became popular in Jerusalem as an expression of the desire of pilgrims to walk in the footsteps of Jesus. Since it was not always possible to travel to the Holy Land, especially when it was controlled by the Moslems, Franciscans have set up Stations of the Cross in churchyards and on hillsides throughout Western Europe from Medieval times. The number of stations varied from 7 to 30, finally settling on 14 in modern times. There is both a traditional form for the stations that is common in most churches and a scriptural form that follows the Gospel story of the Passion much more closely.

The devotion of praying the stations is meant to approximate a pilgrimage as one attempts to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, recognizing that for a pilgrimage, the important part is the present step or station. Our observance of the Stations is especially meaningful during the season of Lent and is a reminder that our entire life is a pilgrimage on our way to God’s Kingdom.

Our Lenten schedule for Stations of the Cross is:
Every Friday 2 PM (English), 7 PM (English) and 7:45 PM (Español)

Our Gospel this Sunday presents a dramatic encounter between Jesus and a paralytic. Jesus was at home in Capernaum, surrounded by disciples listening to his teaching. Four men who were carrying a paralyzed man appeared, hoping to have Jesus cure him. Finding the room where Jesus was teaching too full, they used a rather creative method for getting their friend to Jesus, opening the roof of the room in order to lower the man down.

Two things, other than the ruined roof, are interesting in this encounter. The first is Jesus’ initial response to the paralytic. “Child, your sins are forgiven.” I am sure that was the last thing the four carriers expected or hoped to hear from Jesus. They certainly had not carried the man from wherever they were from, hoisted him up to the roof of the building, tore apart the roof and then lowered him down before Jesus in order for his sins to be forgiven. What kind of sins could a paralytic have committed? The question should not have been “Who but God alone can forgive sins?” but rather who but God alone would know that the man had sins to forgive?

The second surprising thing about this encounter is that the paralytic has no speaking part. We are sure of the faith of the four carriers but do not know anything about the paralytic until he actually does what Jesus tells him to do: pick up his mat and walk. His active expression of faith is every bit as powerful as that of the four men who had helped him. For the paralytic, the power to overcome the doubt and fear that he would not be able to do just as Jesus said was a great witness to the disciples who had gathered to hear Jesus’ words.

In our lives, many of us have experienced times of paralysis, times when we have not known where to turn, times when we had to rely on the faith of those around us to sustain and carry us forward. There are other times when we have been that person who carried a friend in their time of need. In all of these experiences, it is Jesus who stands before us to both accept us as we are and challenge us to move forward in faith and trust; to take up our
mats and walk. Our response is, itself, a blessing of God.