1_2_11 bulletin

The language of Worship: That the World May Believe The dream of Jesus, the vision of Christ, and the will of the Father need the passionate fire of the Holy Spirit. We still long to see in one another what this risen Christ sees in us. It is a dream, a vision, and a passion which seem to be dependant, in some way at least, on us - on the strength of our faith, on the depth of our commitment, on our willingness to belong, and on the sincerity and truth of our words.

"I pray not only for these," Jesus proclaims, "but also for those who will come to believe in Me through their word, so that all may be one...that the world may believe that You sent Me" (John 17:20-21). In times like these, that vision and dream may seem, to some, elusive, to others, impossible, and to still others, dangerous. The words we are asked to receive for our prayer around the Lord's table - so that "from the rising of the sun to its setting a pure sacrifice may be offered" - are given in the midst of a struggling Church longing for truth, compassion, healing, forgiveness, and unity. These words are given to the Church in the midst of a culture longing to hear a word of hope, but they are also given to a Church whose locked doors have been broken through, to disciples commanded to feed and tend, to a faithful band who know the voice of their true shepherd, and to people who will not be orphaned. They are words addressed to a Church that is commanded to "not let the heart be troubled or afraid." In the midst of everything, we have been given the gift of Christ's peace, but to receive it hearts must change so that the words are true.

The vision we hold is the promise of Christ to be with us always and "with the spirit" of the whole Church!

The language of the liturgy is not the words of a new translation that we are about to be given and are asked to receive. The language of the liturgy is not Latin or the language of forms "ordinary" or "extraordinary"; it is not Greek or English, Spanish or Vietnamese, Salish, Blackfeet, or a hundred other languages. Nor is the language of worship the words we might have hoped to receive. The language of the Lord's Supper is always and forever the language of conversion: words which must lead us to change our ways, our mind, our sight, our hopes for the future. They are the words which must change our hearts - mine and yours, ours and theirs - words which must change the heart of the whole Church again, and again, and then again.

We are still on the way from Jerusalem to Emmaus, with dreams unmet ("But we had hoped," the disciples told their unknown companion). We are still on the way with minds that need to be opened, and foolish hearts that need to grasp what is most important, and eyes that need to recognize, finally, the one whose life we are to live, whose dream we are to fulfill, whose very wish is our command. This is the One whose Passover we have entered, whose vision we are to hold, and whose life we are to proclaim. But we are the ones - we are the ones - who are the Father's gift to Christ! And so, in times like these, we are given words - words from the one who goes ahead of us: "Take courage, for just as you have borne witness to my cause, so you must also bear witness again." And he prays: "I have made known to them, Father your name, and I will make it known, that the love with which you loved me may be in them" - may be in them - "and I in them" (John 17:26). And so we "make ready, until he comes again," trusting that the fiery passion of the Holy Spirit for which we long will teach us everything and remind us all of the words he has spoken and of the mission to which we are called, "that the world may believe."

This is an article adapted from a homily by Rev. Ed Hislop, a presbyter of the Diocese of Helena, Montana, and delivered for a diocesan gathering on the new English-language Roman Missal. Reprinted from Pastoral Music 34:5 (September 2010), copyright Š 2010 National Association of Pastoral Musicians. Used with permission. All rights reserved.