The tabernacle in the Abbey church

In the year King Uzziah died, somewhere around 742 BC, Isaiah, an advisor to the king, went into the Temple. There, he saw a magnificent vision. He saw the heavenly throne of God filling the Temple, taking the place of God’s earthly throne, the Ark of the Covenant, kept at that time in the Holy of Holies in the Temple. The Cherubim, the angels made of gold that were on the cover of the Ark of the Covenant, came alive and were joined by Seraphim: fiery angels worshipping God surrounding His throne. Isaiah heard the great hymn resounding from side to side of God’s throne, as the angels sang: “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!” “Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth! Pleni sunt Caeli et Terra Gloria Tua!” As the angels sang their hymn of praise, Isaiah became more and more terrified. The door shook. The smoke of incense and of the sacrifices offered in the Temple filled the Throne Room as it came before God. Isaiah had seen a glimpse of the Heavenly Worship of God, a glimpse of the reality behind the liturgies that Israel performed in the Temple. The Temple sacrifices, hymns and prayers were really offered before the throne of the Living God, seated in the Temple, and attended by his entire court. God, and the entire heavenly court, were truly present within the Temple Liturgies.

This is also true for us. In a few moments, we will recite the Sanctus: the Holy, Holy, Holy. We will echo the words of the first reading and join the angels in their Heavenly Worship of God. Many musical versions of the Sanctus, particularly some of the more elaborate ones written in Gregorian chant, include long melismas: long, connected, often ascending passages that evoke the wafting of smoke and incense around the throne of God as our prayers and voices combine with the Angels. This moment in the Mass signals our entry into the Holy of Holies. Like Isaiah, we come before the throne of God: no longer localized at the Ark of the Covenant, but now symbolized by the altar behind me and the Crucifix above me, which shows Jesus Christ on his throne. As we approach the Holy of Holies, we kneel. Even though it is not visible to our physical eyes, as we stand, sit and kneel here today, we stand, sit and kneel before God and before his angels. This ought to be as terrifying for us as it was for Isaiah.

This encounter with God forever changed Isaiah’s life. He was already an advisor to the king and a court prophet. However, through his vision of the reality behind the Temple, his very being is changed. Like the people he would be sent to preach to, Isaiah had been a man of unclean lips. In order to preach the word of God, one of the angels takes an ember from the Temple sacrifices and touches Isaiah’s lips with it, so that they may be purified. The sacrifices offered in the Temple are literally applied to Isaiah so that his mouth can become capable of speaking the words God gives him. Something similar can happen for us, although there is one major difference. We are offered something even greater than what Isaiah was offered because we are present before the sacrifice of Christ, the Lamb of God, who stands ever present in the Divine Assembly, ahead of all the angels. A sacrifice made once but that is made present every time the Mass is celebrated. As the ember from the Temple sacrifices purified Isaiah’s lips, the sacrifice of Christ made present to us can heal our sins. This gives us not just purified lips, but even goes to the depths of our being. We receive Christ, eat his body, blood, soul and divinity. Christ becomes part of our being. Our hearts themselves can be made pure by the sacrifice of Christ, and our cooperation with it. We can become not just speakers of the Word of God but carriers of it, and participants in its life.

This presence of Christ, this reality we are made present to, is where the grace that we receive during Mass comes from. We do not receive grace from the music, no matter how well performed or fitting for the worship of God. We do not receive grace from the ritual, no matter how beautifully enacted. These have their place, and can and should point us to God. The grace that we receive, however, comes from God Himself, who is really present here: as he was really present in the Temple when Isaiah saw Him. The sacrifice of Christ is carried to our hearts, and received in so far as we are capable of receiving it, as the ember from the Temple sacrifice was carried to Isaiah’s lips. Isaiah comes out of the Temple with a new mission. He becomes one of the greatest of the Prophets of Judah: a man who foresaw the coming of the Messiah both in His glory and in His suffering. Under different kings, he served different roles: sometimes he was sent to denounce the sins of the king and of the people, sometimes he helped the king institute reforms for the good of the people and to offer better and more fitting worship of God. But, always and everywhere, he speaks the Word God sends him to reveal.
Fr. Edward and Br. Joseph Byron at VespersToday’s Gospel presents a different aspect of a call, but the same fundamental reality. Jesus is at the Sea of Galilee, preaching. The Word of God is bringing the words of God to the people. Two boats pull up. Simon, who will later receive the name Peter, James and John are in the boats. Jesus tells them to go back out. They return with a great number of fish. Like Isaiah, Peter sees the reality behind Jesus: he humbles himself before him: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” He glimpses the reality behind Jesus. Instead, Peter, James and John are called by Jesus to catch men: to preach the Word of God and participate in Jesus’ mission. Peter, James and John receive their mission after glimpsing their unworthiness to stand before Jesus. Peter, James and John become the first Apostles. Their mission includes what will become in later centuries known as the Mass. At the Last Supper, Jesus gives the Apostles his body and blood as an eternal sacrifice, and as an eternal memorial: he gives Peter, James and John, and the nine other Apostles, the essential structure of the Mass. This would be passed down through St. Paul, the last of the Apostles, then through the Popes and Bishops through the ages, carrying Christ’s words and Christ Himself down to us. The reality behind the Mass connects us to Christ, but also connects us to the entirety of the Church, spread throughout time and space. It is the act of worship offered by the Body of Christ, the Church, through its head, Christ, in the Holy Spirit, as an offering to God the Father. And it is that reality that we must connect to. That is the reality that can transform us and help us to become who God wants us to be. It is from our participation in this act of worship that we are made worthy of our vocations and become capable of carrying out the mission entrusted to each of us by God. This reality is truly present to us right here and right now. It can reform our hearts, if only we open ourselves to see.

So you and I should have in our minds and hearts some regard, some way, of helping the poor. The easiest way, probably, is, if you have money, to give some of it to the poor. But other people do much more. They serve in various ways the actual needs of the poor. But we should be doing something, all of us. Now, Lent is coming, and when that comes, it might be one of the things that you do, is to give something up and use what money you save for the poor. There is a saying of Our Lord’s in Luke’s gospel, which is, “To whom much is given, from that one much is required.” And that person: you and I are that person, because all of us in this church has been given a great deal. We all may have had other things, too, that cause us to suffer or cause difficulty in life, but we are sufficiently well off to be concerned with the poor.

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