Supplement to The Georgia Bulletin, February 12, 1987
□ Faith Toda
A supplement to Catholic newspapers,
published with grant assistance from Cath
olic Church Extension Society, by the Na
tional Catholic News Service, 1312 Massa
chusetts Ave. N.W., Washington, D.C.
20005. All contents copyright ® 1987 by
NC News Service.
By Margaret O’Brien Steinfels
NC News Service
E arly on in my school
career — probably sec
ond grade — I was told
by my Lutheran playmate
that her family went to
church to pray. As a recent first
communicant, I knew- Catholics
went to church to receive Com
munion. Our ecumenical dialogue
ended on that quasi-factual note.
I have since learned that
Lutherans receive Communion and
that Catholics pray. Still at some
level I function with the theology
I learned at 7. At non-eucharistic
liturgies or prayer services, I feel
that with nothing to eat and
nothing to drink this is not a very
interesting celebration.
On the other hand, eating and
drinking without conversation is
equally dismal.
What difference does it moke that people assemble for Mass?
Of course the heart of the celebration is the Eucharist, writes
Margaret O'Brien Steinfels. But the Mass, through the Prayers of
the Faithful, also provides a way for people to speak and listen
to one another. In fact, she says, it "may be the only place in our
culture where men and women can publicly express sadness and
feelings of helplessness in the face of suffering, and where the
rest of us can join in their prayer.”
The Eucharist is the heart of our
Sunday celebration, the reason we
assemble for Mass. But like all
human gatherings, there must be a
way for us to talk to each other
and to talk to God. We greet one
another; we hear the word of God
and we respond; we sing; we of
fer one another a sign of peace.
And there is a place in the Mass
where we may speak and listen to
one another. Over the last year its
importance has been forcefully
brought home to me.
The Prayers of the Faithful at
our Sunday Mass are often exten
sive. People are not shy; they
speak up and they pray.
Many, through their work or
neighborhood contacts, know or
frequently see the poor, the
homeless, families having a hard
time keeping their lives together.
So we pray for the poor and the
vulnerable, for those who have
few resources material or spiritual.
Some of my fellow worshipers
seem to know many sick and dy
ing people who need our prayers.
We pray for them. We also pray
for the church and for govern
ment officials and for peace in
Nicaragua and Northern Ireland
and in places most of us have
never heard of. And we pray for
our own community.
Sometimes there are prayers of
thanksgiving and appreciation but
The
evening
news
was
never
like
this!
usually it is prayers for the
hopeless and the helpless.
Sometimes these prayers go on
for a long time. Some Sundays
there seems to be no end: What
sounds like it might be the last
“Lord, hear our prayer,” is fol
lowed by another and another.
Can there be so many dire cases?
Do they all need public prayers?
For a long time I found our
lengthy laments excessive. But now
I think I've changed my mind.
What each one brings to our
Sunday gathering and says in the
form of a prayer is part of the
conversation among us and with
God. There are people and events
that burden our hearts; we need
to say what they are.
This past year there were
several deaths among people who
came to our Sunday Mass. Prayers
over our loss and remembrances
of the dead, their families and
friends, have been part of our
Sunday celebrations. These were
not anonymous names or
unknown faces but people who
had been there Sunday after Sun
day. Even if it was only a nodding
acquaintance that most of us had.
they were part of our community
and their absence was felt.
These new names added to our
prayers made me realize how uni
que the Prayer of the Faithful is.
Our prayers and the Mass in
which they are embedded may be
the only place in our culture
where men and women can
publicly express sadness and feel
ings of helplessness in the face of
suffering, and where the rest of us
can join in their prayer.
Reports on the evening news of
death and carnage, child abuse
and homelessness seem only to in
crease the bland seriousness of
news commentators. It is un
professional to express strong
emotions, whether of sorrow or
outrage, in public.
In insurance companies and
welfare offices, in operating
rooms and on construction sites,
wherever we work we must
restrict ourselves to modest ex
pressions of what we feel when a
crisis hits, when a neighbor dies
or illness strikes a co-worker,
when our patient has an acute at
tack of a chronic mental illness,
or when a client-family falls apart.
There is cause to be sad and to
weep. We need to pray for com
fort and compassion. We need to
say: “Let us pray to the Lord.”
The Mass is the place where we
can do that together.
(Mrs. Steinfels is editor of
Church magazine.)
