가톨릭 신앙생활 Q&A 코너

At the beginning of Mass, immediately after the Sign of the Cross, the celebrant extends one of three different liturgical greetings to the people.  The one that is perhaps most commonly used is “The Lord be with you.”  It is a familiar line that will remain unchanged with the new translation.

However, our new response will be the first major change in the Order of Mass.  Instead of “And also with you,” we will now be saying, “And with your spirit.”  This new response will also be made at the four other times during Mass when this dialogue occurs: at the reading of the Gospel, at the beginning of the Eucharistic Prayer, during the Sign of Peace (when the priest says, “The peace of the Lord be with you always”), and at the conclusion of Mass.

Why the change?  At the most basic level, “And with your spirit” is the proper translation of the original Latin text: “Et cum spiritu tuo.”  By correctly expressing this dialogue in English, we are actually aligning our translation with that of all the other major language groups, which have long been translating the Latin properly.  For example, in Spanish, the response is “Y con tu espíritu.”

But even beyond the linguistic, the recovery of the word “spirit” also carries Scriptural meaning.  One form or other of “The Lord be with you” appears multiple times in the Bible, including the greeting given by the Archangel Gabriel to Mary at the Annunciation: “Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you” (Lk 1:28).  Then, in the Pauline epistles, multiple variations of “The Lord be with your spirit” are employed as parting words to different church communities.  Understood together, this liturgical dialogue in the Mass is an exchange whereby all present – both Priest and congregation – ask that the Holy Spirit (whom we call “the Lord, the giver of life” in the Nicene Creed) establish a stronger communion among us.

In addition, for the congregation to answer the Priest, “And with your spirit,” is actually a theological statement about what we Catholics believe regarding ordained ministers.  No. 367 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks of how “spirit” can refer to an elevation of the soul, whereby the soul “is raised beyond all it deserves to communion with God.”  Through Holy Orders, Christ has forever configured the Priest’s soul to Himself in a special way, by the power of the Holy Spirit.  By specifically referencing the Priest’s spirit, we can affirm this transformation and pray for his ministry.

This new response of “And with your spirit” will be a difficult change to remember – perhaps one of the most difficult for us laity.  However, it will not take long to grow accustomed to the new wording, especially given its frequency.  Above all, we should reflect on how it conveys the content of Sacred Scripture, as well as the work of the Holy Spirit in the Church.

The Penitential Act immediately follows the greeting dialogue.  Important changes occur in the first form of the Penitential Act, which is the commonly used formula called the Confiteor.  “Confiteor” is Latin for “I confess,” and comes from the first line of the prayer.

Most of this text remains the same as the version we presently use.  However, there are two key modifications.  The first replaces our current wording of “I have sinned through my own fault” with “I have greatly sinned.”  The new text reflects the Latin wording by incorporating the adverb “nimis,” which means “very much.”

The second set of changes occurs about halfway through the Confiteor, and is more significant.  The words removed from the first section (“through my own fault”) are being returned to their proper place here, but with the expression’s full content.  “Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault” is a direct translation of the Latin phrase “mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.”  As a well-known line from the old Latin Mass, “mea culpa” has even become a familiar part of our secular parlance, by which one admits having made a mistake.

Some might wonder, why this seemingly heavier emphasis on sin in the revised English Confiteor?  Looking beyond simple fidelity to the Latin, language that calls to mind our fallen human nature is actually very important in the Sacred Liturgy.  The great Apostle of Christ, St. Paul, spoke of his complete and continual reliance on God’s grace in vivid terms well after his conversion: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.  Of these I am the foremost” (1 Tim 1:15).

It is good to acknowledge our sinfulness at particular times, just as we should do at sacramental Confession.  Unlike Reconciliation, we are not sacramentally absolved of our sins at this point during the Holy Mass.  Nevertheless, it is an appropriate way to “prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries,” as the Priest says at the beginning of the Penitential Act.  We must strive to approach the altar of God with humble dispositions, and should receive the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ free from grave sin, and in a worthy fashion, as St. Paul exhorts us in 1 Corinthians 11:23-29.

During the Confiteor, the faithful should “strike their breast” while saying, “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.”  This prescribed “striking” is a symbolic tapping of the chest with a clenched fist over one’s heart, signifying remorse.  This is part of the beauty of our Catholic liturgy – sacramental words are complemented by sacramental actions.  This action also recalls the penitent tax collector in Luke, chapter 18, who “beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’”

The Confiteor ends with the individual asking for the prayers of the rest of the assembly and the Saints, led by the Blessed Virgin Mary, whose sinlessness and humility are the perfect model for our own Christian lives.

The General Instruction of the Roman Missal describes the Gloria as “a most ancient and venerable hymn by which the Church, gathered in the Holy Spirit, glorifies and entreats God the Father and the Lamb” (no. 53).

Much of the text of the Gloria comes from Scripture: the first lines are derived from the Angels heralding the glad tidings of Christ’s birth in Luke 2:14 – “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”  The opening words (“Glory to God in the highest”) also correspond to the Latin, “Gloria in excelsis Deo” – a phrase universally familiar from the popular Christmas carol, “Angels We Have Heard on High.”

There are clearly substantial differences between the new liturgical text and the Gloria translation that we have been using.  The current text reads, “peace to his people on earth,” which the new text expands to “on earth peace to people of good will.”  It helps to know that some versions of the Bible render Luke 2:14 as “on earth peace, good will toward men.”  The new translation of the Gloria is a richer reference to the fact that the Messiah’s coming brings the world a higher order of divine peace that only the incarnate Son of God can bestow.  Those who live in accordance with God’s will and receive His grace shall experience the fullness of this peace.

Turning to the second sentence of the new Gloria, we notice something striking – the new translation recovers entire phrases that were left out of the current translation.  Right now, we sing, “we worship you, we give you thanks, we praise you for your glory.”  However, the Latin text of the hymn offers five successive ways in which we should pay homage to God: “We praise you, we bless you, we adore you, we glorify you, we give you thanks for your great glory.”  In a general sense, it is true that these all convey the same idea of worshiping God.  But liturgical prayer is enhanced by poetic repetition, and these five descriptions of worship do hold subtle distinctions.  Together, they combine to express the extent to which it is our Christian duty to give “glory to God.”

The addition of “Only Begotten Son” recovers a key phrase from the Latin text – “Fili Unigenite.”  This is a venerable title of Jesus Christ, which speaks of the fact that the Son of God comes forth from the Father, yet is no less an eternal Person of the Divine Trinity.

Unlike our current translation, the new text includes two lines (rather than one) that begin with “you take away the sins of the world,” thereby reflecting the Latin text.  By regaining this line and an additional “have mercy on us” in the next line, the new translation features a classic threefold structure of supplication: “have mercy on us… receive our prayer… have mercy on us.”  We also see this sort of structure in the Kyrie and Lamb of God.

This Creed was originally adopted at the Council of Nicaea in A.D. 325 and updated at the Council of Constantinople in A.D. 381.  It is therefore also referred to as the “Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed.”

The first major change is difficult to miss: the Creed will now say “I believe” instead of “We believe.”  Other language groups have been using “I believe” in the vernacular, because it is a straightforward translation of the Latin “Credo.”  This offers a recurring opportunity to reaffirm one’s personal faith, just as when individuals respond, “I do,” if there is a renewal of baptismal promises during Mass.

The next change is from “seen and unseen” to “visible and invisible.”  The Latin “visibilium” and “invisibilium” convey a more specific demarcation between the bodily and the spiritual realms.  For instance, a child playing hide-and-seek may be unseen yet is still considered visible, whereas one’s guardian angel is indeed invisible by nature.

The new Creed translation also recovers Christ’s title, “Only Begotten Son” (“Fili Unigenite”), which we see in the revised Gloria.  To say the Son is “born of the Father before all ages” is a profound theological truth, for the Son is not “born” in the human sense of beginning one’s life, but eternally proceeds from the Father while being always fully God.  Therefore, we profess that Jesus Christ is “begotten, not made.”

Following this comes a major wording change: from “one in being” to “consubstantial with the Father.”  “Consubstantial” (“consubstantialem” in the Latin text) is an unusual word that will require some catechesis, but it is a crucial early theological term, asserting that the Son is of the “same substance” with the Father – meaning He equally shares the Father’s divinity as a Person of the Holy Trinity.

Although it carries the same basic meaning as “one in being,” the more precise use of “consubstantial” is an acknowledgement of how the Greek equivalent of the word was so important for safeguarding orthodoxy in the early Church.  In the Fourth Century, the description “homoousios” (“same substance”) was affirmed over “homoiousios” (“like substance”).  The reality of who Christ is thus hinged upon a single letter!

There is another important change in the middle of the Creed: “and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.”  The current wording of “born of the Virgin Mary, and became man” can easily be misinterpreted to mean that Christ did not actually become man until the time He was born.  Of course, the reality is that the Son of God took on human nature from the moment of His conception in the Blessed Virgin Mary’s womb, at the Annunciation.  By using the term, “incarnate,” the new translation leaves no ambiguity.

One of the remaining minor changes in the new Creed translation is “I look forward to the resurrection of the dead,” by which one expresses a sincere desire, rather than simply “looking for” the resurrection.  The Latin “exspecto” conveys a sense of anxious waiting and expectation!

After the Priest washes his hands, he extends an invitation to prayer.  Whereas the current translation of the Orate, fratres (“Pray, brethren”) has “our sacrifice,” the new translation is changed to “my sacrifice and yours.”  This seemingly slight distinction, found in the original Latin, in fact conveys the reality that those who are gathered offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass in different ways.  The Priest offers it on our behalf in a special manner, in persona Christi (in the person of Christ), by virtue of his ordination.

But those of us in the pews are not idle spectators.  The Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, art. 48, says that the faithful should be “conscious” participants “by offering the Immaculate Victim, not only through the hands of the Priest, but also with him, they should learn also to offer themselves.”

This call to join ourselves to the action of the priest is then answered when the people stand and make their response, which is also referred to by the first words of the prayer in Latin, Suscipiat Dominus.  There is only one change to this prayer by the people, though it is not insignificant.  The addition of “holy” reminds us that the Church belongs to Christ, and is founded on His grace.

Afterwards comes the Priest’s “Prayer over the Offerings” – part of the proper prayers that change depending on the liturgical day.  Just as with the Collects at the beginning of Mass, many of these will feature richer and fuller content.

The Eucharistic Prayer itself begins with the Preface dialogue.  The first change is another instance of “And with your spirit.”  This is the third time the exchange appears during the Mass, and it is a particularly profound moment.  The Priest, by the spirit given him at ordination, is about to act in the person of Christ to consecrate the bread and wine into the Holy Eucharist.

The second change lies in the phrase, “It is right and just.”  This is a simple rendering of the Latin, “Dignum et iustum est,” emphasizing the fact that it is fitting and appropriate, or fair (“just”), to “give thanks to the Lord our God,” because He is both our Creator and Redeemer.

This dialogue is followed by the Preface, a more lengthy prayer that can vary depending on the liturgical occasion.  Most Prefaces in the new translation expand upon the words of the preceding dialogue by beginning, “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks.”

At the conclusion of the Preface comes the Sanctus, which in Latin means “Holy.”  The Sanctus, like the Gloria, is intended to be sung – in fact, many different settings of the Latin text exist even in Gregorian chant.

The only textual difference from our current version is that “God of power and might” becomes “God of hosts.”  The word “hosts” refers to a great gathering or multitude, and speaks here of God’s command over the heavenly host of angelic armies.

This reference has a Biblical foundation in Isaiah 6:1-3, where the prophet writes, “I saw the Lord seated on a high and lofty throne… Seraphim were stationed above… ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts!’ they cried one to the other. ‘All the earth is filled with his glory!’”

And in Luke 2:13, a “multitude of the heavenly host” also announces the birth of Jesus to the shepherds.

The words of the final three lines of the Sanctus can be found in the Gospel of Matthew, during the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem before His Passion, as the people shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest” (Mt 21:9).  Versions of this acclamation appear in the other Gospels, and the “Blessed is he…” line comes from Psalm 118 (117), amidst a passage that became understood as a reference to Christ.

The Sanctus reminds us that all creatures on “heaven and earth” owe thanksgiving to God (“Eucharist” actually means “thanksgiving”).  And because we truly believe that the Angels are also present and worshiping with us as we celebrate the Holy Eucharist, then every fiber of our being is made to reflect the utmost reverence.  Therefore, immediately after the Sanctus, we kneel.  Kneeling is a sign of respect and humility that is distinctly human and bodily – it is something that even the Angels, being pure spirit, cannot do.

As part of the new Mass translation, after the consecration, rather than saying, “Let us proclaim the mystery of faith,” the Priest will simply announce, “The mystery of faith” (“Mysterium fidei”).  It will be a declarative statement about the Eucharist now present.  Blessed John Paul II reflected on these words in his encyclical, Ecclesia de Eucharistia, writing that the very thought of the mysterious gift of the Holy Eucharist should fill us with “profound amazement and gratitude” (no. 5).

In response, the people shall make one of three revised acclamations.  All three are rooted in Scripture.  Option A, and especially option B, are derived from 1 Corinthians 11:26 – “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.”  And Christ’s title in option C is found in John 4:42, when the woman who met Jesus at the well is told by her fellow Samaritans, “we know that this is truly the savior of the world.”

The three acclamations all incorporate familiar elements, although some of the phrases have been rearranged when compared to our present text.  One acclamation that we use now – “Dying you destroyed our death…” – has been substantially amended to shift the emphasis more upon Christ’s own death and Resurrection.

What is conspicuously absent is the popular current acclamation, “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.”  This line, although powerful, is not found in the Latin.  In addition, unlike the other acclamations, it does not directly address Christ made present in the Blessed Sacrament, nor does it speak of our relationship with Him.

After the Lord’s Prayer and the Sign of Peace, we sing the Agnus Dei (“Lamb of God”) as the Priest breaks the sacred Host.  The Agnus Dei text remains unchanged, though it is always good to recall its origin in the words of John the Baptist, as he heralds Christ’s arrival at the River Jordan: “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (Jn 1:29).

That passage from the Gospel of John is also embedded in the subsequent line spoken by the Priest, while he holds the Host over the chalice: “Behold the Lamb of God…”

The new translation recovers the word, “behold,” which also evokes the words of Pilate to the crowd in presenting the scourged Jesus: “Behold, the man” (“Ecce homo” – Jn 19:5).  The Holy Eucharist is a re-presentation of that same sacrificial Victim, and our partaking in it is a foretaste of the heavenly wedding banquet of the Lamb (Rev 19:9).

Then come the words we pray in response, before the distribution of Holy Communion begins: “Lord, I am not worthy…”

The replacement of our current, relatively terse “not worthy to receive you” with “I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof” is a significant change.  The new line comes directly from the Gospels, particularly Matthew 8:8, in which the faith-filled centurion begs Jesus to heal his paralyzed servant: “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed.”  It is therefore a Biblical text that conveys humanity’s unworthiness on account of sin, and our need for sincere humility before receiving the Holy Eucharist.  Indeed, when Jesus encounters the centurion’s humility, he says, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith” (Mt 8:10).

Nonetheless, despite these Biblical origins, speaking of “my roof” may seem strange before Holy Communion, since Christ is coming to us in the form of food – not literally entering into our houses.  Certainly, the clear association with Matthew, chapter 8, has a figurative intent, but it may also be helpful to recall that Saint Paul says, “your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you” (1 Cor 6:19).

We are therefore to make our bodies into fitting homes for God’s grace to dwell within our souls.  The Eucharist is true food that provides spiritual nourishment, which is why we will refer more specifically to “my soul” in the last line.  But this sacramental strength for our souls in turn informs both our mental and physical deeds (recall the Confiteor also incorporates both types of action – “in my thoughts and in my words”), such that the totality of our bodies, souls, and lives may become suitable instruments of the Lord.

After the Priest has recited or sung the Prayer after Communion, we arrive at the Concluding Rites.  For the last time during the Mass, the Priest says, “The Lord be with you,” and we respond, “And with your spirit.”

Then comes the final blessing (sometimes preceded by a prayer or three-fold solemn blessing on special occasions, or by the pontifical blessing if a Bishop is celebrant): “May almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Following our response of “Amen” to the final blessing, Mass is concluded with the dismissal, said or sung by the Priest (or a Deacon, if one is present).  With the new Missal, our three current dismissal formulas will be replaced by four options.

The first corresponds to the actual Latin dismissal, which is familiar to many: “Ite, missa est.”  In fact, this is where the word “Mass” comes from - “missa est” - which at its most fundamental level means “it is sent” or “it is the dismissal.”  More than a mere declaration that it is time to leave, this has the function of emphasizing our Christian call to “mission” (a word with the same Latin origins).

Pope Benedict XVI spoke of this in Sacramentum Caritatis, the Apostolic Exhortation he released in 2007 as a follow-up to the 2005 Synod of Bishops on the Holy Eucharist.  He said our participation in the Eucharistic Liturgy should translate into a life in imitation of Christ, such that from the Sacred Liturgy should spring forth the “missionary nature of the Church.”  He wrote that it would be helpful to “provide new texts” for the final blessing “in order to make this connection clear” (no. 51).  Therefore, the Holy Father himself selected the three other dismissal formulas that we shall receive, and they were added to the Latin text of the Missal.

Our response at the dismissal remains the same: “Thanks be to God.”  What else can we do except give thanks to God?  He has provided us with an inestimable gift in the Holy Mass, and a means by which He draws us and the entire world into closer communion with Him.