UNDERSTANDING THE LITURGY by John J. O'Brien, C.P.

WHEN THE PEOPLE OF SAINT MALACHY WORSHIPS, WE ARE CALLED THE ASSEMBLY

For the last twenty-eight years I'd get excited as Saturday evening and Sunday morning came along. Why? Because I would meet Christian people assembling to celebrate the Lord's Supper. Sometimes I met them arriving in cars, vans, and jeeps at suburban St. Peter's parking lot in Jupiter, Florida. Single and married, grandparents and grandchildren, infants and little kids. Other times I'd be standing at the door of the campus ministry center at La Salle U. in Philly or the Newman Center in center city, Philadelphia: teenagers and college aged students, professors and neighborhood people.

Usually I was the priest, the one who would preside in this circle of friends. But sometimes I was just a member of the congregation. At St. Vincent's church in Germantown, PA I was greeted by a young Asian man and an elderly black woman the first time I showed up for the 9 o'clock service on Sunday. The parish was poor, yet it found resources to feed the neighborhood poor, and everyone was really welcome. I could feel it. The same thing happened when I went to St. Benedict the African church in Chicago last January. Welcome! Glad, you are here! And then I, a white man from the East coast joined fellow African American Catholics. I walked down the ramp, through the marvelous baptismal pool space, and into the table area which was shaped like an African hut. The Eucharist lasted 90 minutes and the lady next to me and I harmonized as all lustily sang good Gospel and spirituals. She suggested that I join the choir.

Being Catholic means "here comes everybody." Peoples of varied colors, dressed in various colors, all showing up to meet Jesus Christ in the priest, in the Word of God, in each other, in the assembly's attention for catechumens and their blessing of kids going away to college.

Music making is one reason I get excited about Saturday night and Sunday morning Ritual making is another. For example, I delighted to see four men and women leading us into the Jesuit church at St. Louis U. It was just after Easter. They carried incense pots and danced the assembly through the baptismal space as we repeatedly sang the monastic chant from Taizé: " Laudate Dominum, omnes gentes, Alleluia!" (Praise the Lord, all nations, alleluia). The music thundered as we processed to our seats in the main part of the church.

Finally, I remember young and old singing with gusto and delight around the altar at St. John the Baptist in south side, Chicago. They were a small, vital, and warm assembly. I was the only non-Slovak and I felt like their brother.

When we gather here on Saturday evening and Sunday morning at St. Malachy, we are the assembly. We are diverse in background, race, and ethnicity. We are one as the body of Christ. We meet Christ in the Word of God, the priest, the Eucharist, and in one another. What a privilege! Keep up the good work, sisters and brothers.