But first a note: Friends: We're heading into Advent tomorrow - a Sunday when we don't fundraise. But we really need more to pick up our pace. Today. We're about halfway to where we need to be, and a lot is riding on your contributions - nothing less than our ability to continue our work into 2026. Many people have asked me over the years how we manage. And I tell them that it's easy. I have great confidence in our readers. Please make that a reality again this year. These are challenging days in the Church and the world. Let's do all we can to face them. At TCT, we will. Are you ready to join us. - Robert Royal
Now for today's column by Fr. Raymond J. de Souza.
Only a few years ago - more than twenty years into my priesthood - I discovered the Eucharistic Prayers for Reconciliation. They have been in the Roman Missal for decades now, but many of us priests leave unexplored the treasures of the Missal - votive Masses, Masses for various needs and occasions, solemn blessings, etc.
The story of those reconciliation prayers is linked to the Holy Year 1975, and marks a fruit of the liturgical reform at a tumultuous time. That story itself is worth recalling about the prayer that is at the heart of the Mass.
For some 1600 years, the Roman Canon (Eucharistic Prayer I) was the only "anaphora," as it is properly called. The liturgical movement of the 19th and 20th centuries expressed some longstanding concerns about the prayer, namely the strange absence of the Holy Spirit, and that its literary structure was less than cohesive. Yet it had been consecrated by more than a millennium of use, venerable on that ground alone. In any case, the rubrics of the Tridentine missal had it recited sotto voce, so it was not heard by the congregation. Depending upon the Latin fluency of the priest, it was quite possible that even he was unconcerned with such matters.
After Vatican II, the decision to have the anaphora recited aloud and in the vernacular languages raised a question. Was the Roman Canon suitable for such at every Mass? The view that prevailed was that it would be burdensome for priests and people alike, and so new eucharistic prayers were drafted, some from ancient sources, others composed latterly.
The Church, as she often does, found it difficult to strike a balance in the new usage, and so the Roman Canon disappeared almost entirely in practice, though the anaphora itself remained in its primary place, largely untouched. There are a few priests who still choose to use it in all Masses, which remains an option.
The new missal of Paul VI included four anaphoras. The briefest of them (II) attracted the most enthusiasm in use, likely for that reason.
The third, to my mind, is of superior literary quality, with its soaring opening - invoking all persons of the Trinity, the work of Creation, the enduring covenant of salvation, with a "pure sacrifice" being offered "from the rising of the sun to its setting" - and its concluding image of the Church as a "pilgrim on earth" constantly offering its "oblation" of the "the sacrificial Victim" by which she is "nourished by the Body and Blood of your Son and filled with his Holy Spirit."
The fourth anaphora presents a sweeping account of the history of salvation, rendered in language suffused with Biblical language and images. In the "fullness of time," one can almost hear Jesus preaching in the synagogue at Nazareth. (Luke 4) The relevant rubrics restrict its use to Ordinary Time, and I find it suitable particularly for Sundays during the year.
The additional prayers are, to my eyes and ears, welcome additions. From a strictly literary point of view, I find that the Roman Canon is euphonious in Latin in a way that it is not in English; famulórum famularumque is pleasing to the ear in a way that mere "servants" or even "servants and handmaidens" is not. It retains its venerable status, and I use it when that is the desirable criterion, but more often prefer the other options.
Options were abo...