You Never Even Call Me by My Name - Part III

Ever see a couple of priests at a church family picnic and think, “Man, that’s gotta be embarrassing…I mean, showing up wearing the same black outfit?”  Ok, well maybe you haven’t, but it does raise an interesting question:  What ARE all those crazy things priests wear?  Well, as you may have guessed by now (or you at least shouldn’t be surprised, based on previous posts on this blog), all those crazy things they wear all have special purposes, and of course, special names.  So hopefully after reading this post, the next time you see a priest, you won’t say they’re wearing “that black outfit,” or “that pointy hat,” or (cringe) “that dress-looking thing.”

Cassock (KASS-ik) – from the French (no, that’s not a typo…I said “French” on purpose) casaque, but the idea of the cassock comes from the Medieval Latin (you should’ve known Latin was going to at least make an appearance) soutane, meaning “beneath” – black cloak that fully buttons up the front (usually 33 buttons—the number of years of the earthly life of Jesus), and is the traditional daily wardrobe essential for priests.  It is also worn with a white collar called a Roman Collar which is a universally identifiable mark of a religious minister.  I use the words “religious minister” because many other faiths have adopted the clerical look of the cassock or “clerics” (see below) as their normal attire as well.  In the Catholic Faith, it is typically worn by priests, although you’ll occasionally catch a Deacon (usually a transitional deacon) or a seminarian (one studying for the priesthood in a seminary) wearing one, as well.  They can also be used (typically sans the Roman Collar) by the laity (non-ordained members of the Church) when assisting at Mass as Altar Servers.

Clerics (KLAIR-iks) – modern version of the cassock.  This is the black pants & black shirt with the Roman Collar worn by most priests these days (although the cassock has been making a pretty awesome come-back in the past decade, or so).

Now, people wonder what the significance of the black clothes and the white collar are.  If there are any priests out there who can point me in the direction of a solid definitive and/or historical document that can formally explain this to me, please do.  Until then, I’ll proceed with a couple “traditional explanations.”  The first is that black clothing is customarily a sign of mourning, and is associated with death, so when people see a priest, they are reminded that we’re mortal, and that we’re all going to die one day, so we should continuously be re-evaluating our actions.  The other is that the color black is a symbol of evil and darkness and that the priest wearing all black, and a small bit of white (the Roman Collar) is portraying the church as a bit of purity in a world letting itself be consumed with evil.  Again, I can find no proof of either of these traditions, so until someone can point us all here on The Remedial Catholic to an official Church document giving the explanation, feel free to take whichever one of those you feel best about and run with it.

Surplice (SUR-pliss) – from the Latin superpellicium, meaning “coat of skins” (really a compound word: super, meaning “above/on top” and pellicius, meaning “made of skins”) – a looser white garment worn on top of—and typically shorter than—the cassock worn during liturgical celebrations

Alb – from the Latin alba, meaning "white" – the white "robe-like" vestment worn by all clergy during liturgical celebrations meant to symbolize purity.

Cincture (SINK-sure) – from the Latin cingere, meaning “to gird” (look that one up in the dictionary…and in Ephesians 6:14) – belt made of cord or cloth rope used to tie over the Alb at the waist to serve as a sort if belt.

Stole – from the Latin stola, meaning “garment” – a  long, thin strip of cloth worn around the neck and sown the front of a priest, and on the left shoulder and across the body of a deacon, being tied or otherwise fastened at the right side.  it is a symbol of the clerical office, and also symbolic of the "Yoke of Christ" (like from Matthew 11:29 which says, "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for my burden is easy, and my yoke is light."). I've also heard a priest give the explanation (although I've never found the literary or historical evidence to firmly support it) that the stole has the appearance that it's "pouring" down the front of the priest, which is reminiscent of Leviticus 8:12 in which Aaron is consecrated by his brother Moses with oil, by having oil poured on his head, which consequently ran down his beard and down over his body.  So the stole could be thought of as resembling oil being poured as an anointing over the priest and running down his front.  Not sure of the historical soundness of that, but it’s pretty cool to think about.

Chasuble (CHAZ-uh-bull) – from the Latin casubla, meaning “hooded garment” – not too sure where in history the “hooded” part got left out, but nevertheless, this is the garment which sort of resembles a poncho that the priest wears while celebrating Mass meant to resemble the breastplate of righteousness (again, read Ephesians 6…good stuff).  Another one of those untraceable historical traditions is associated with the chasuble.  See, whether you want to admit it or not, the devil exists (watch “The Usual Suspects” if you don’t believe me and pay attention to what Kevin Spacey says).  There is a war waging all around us at all times.  (Sorry if this is crazy to think about, but if you’re just thinking about it for the first time while reading this, it’s probably time you started.)  People think that the holier you are, the less the devil will want to attack you.  That’s (probably) pretty far from the truth, when you reason through it.  See, people who live lives of sin are already making the devil’s job pretty easy, so they probably don’t get attacked as much as you’d think—just egged on a little.  The holier you are, the harder the devil has to work, so the more vicious the attacks on you will be.  The holiest action on earth is what happens during the sacrifice of the Mass when God, through the priest acting in personae Christi (Latin for “in the person of Christ), transforms simple bread and wine into the Body & Blood of Christ (metaphysical explanation of that concept to come in a future post).  A holy act like this would probably be somewhere near the head of the devil’s top ten “Things I hate most” list.  Because of this, some traditions view the chasuble as the armor a priest wears when he goes into battle during this war of good v. evil.  Pretty freakin’ sweet, huh??  Man, I love being Catholic.

Dalmatic (dahl-MAT-ik) – from the Latin dalmatica, which I cannot find a definition for, but my research shows that this vestment came to Rome from Dalmatia, a region of present-day Croatia, and got its name from that region – the outer, sleeved tunic worn by a deacon at Mass (the deacon’s version of the priest’s chasuble).

Biretta (bih-REH-tuh) – from the Latin birrus, meaning “cloak” – not a full “cloak” as the Latin origin would lead you to believe…the Biretta is the square hat with three ridges called “horns” (horns were used symbolically throughout the scriptures as a symbol for power) on top (pointing from the center to the front, right, and rear), with a tuft on top (except when worn by seminarians and cardinals) traditionally worn by priests that, like the cassock, has phased itself out, then recently come back into more wide use.

Zucchetto (zoo-KET-tuh) – the silk skull cap ordinarily worn by bishops and cardinals during the Mass, except for the time beginning with the preface to the Eucharistic Prayer until after Communion.  Bishops’ zucchetto is violet purple, a cardinal’s zucchetto is scarlet red, and the pope’s zucchetto is white.  Priests may also wear a black zucchetto for daily use, but may not wear it for the liturgy.

Cope – from the Latin cappa, meaning “cape” or “cloak” – like the Latin origin implies, a cape-like vestment worn by the clergy in place of a chasuble for non-Mass liturgical services such as Eucharistic Adoration.

Humeral (HUME-uh-ruhl) Veil – from the Latin humerus, linked to the section of the arm from the shoulder to the elbow, now used for the bone in that part of the arm) – long, rectangular vestment worn over the shoulders and hands of a priest holding a sacred vessel, usually associated with Eucharistic Adoration services.

Mitre (MIGHT-er) – from the Latin mitra, meaning “head dress” – the pointed hat worn by bishops and abbots (and cardinals when in the presence of the pope) during the liturgy, which is open at the top (although some are made with a small piece of cloth to better hold the mitre on the head of the wearer), the mitre also has two ribbons of cloth that hang from the back.  These two ribbons of cloth, called lappets, are thought to be remnants of an older form of Greek head-dresses that were wrapped around the head and tied at the back with the excess two ends of material hanging down in back.

Mozzetta (mo-ZET-tuh) – although I can’t find the unquestionable Latin origin, seems to come form the Italian mozzo, meaning “cut off,” and if it’s from Italian, there’s got to be a Latin word that I just can’t find in a timely manner today – the short cape worn over the shoulders of bishops and cardinals.

Pallium (PAL-lee-um) – straight from Latin – thin band of white wool adorned with 6 black crosses, worn by archbishops, patriarchs, and the pope as a symbol of their (greater) authority. The non-silk part of the pallium is made of white wool, part of which is supplied by two lambs presented annually by the Lateran Canons Regular on the feast of St. Agnes (21 January). The lambs are solemnly blessed on the high altar of that church after the pontifical Mass, and then offered to the pope, who sends pallia made of their wool to the archbishops of the world, or presents them in person to those archbishops who attend the liturgy on the Feast of Sts. Peter & Paul (June 29) at St. Peter’s in Rome.

Ok, that was a WHOLE lot of info for one post, but I tried to fit in (almost) all of the liturgical garb into one blog.  Hope it wasn’t too much, and you can come back tomorrow for the 4^th and final installment of what things are called in the church.

You Never Even Call Me by My Name - Part II

Last post we started talking about the names of things we use at Mass.  Here’s part 2 of that.  No real big theme here, or witty introduction...just more stuff and the proper names for them.

Sacramentary (SACK-ruh-MEN-tuh-ree) – from the Latin sacramentum, meaning “sacred rite,” and the suffix –ary, meaning “for the purpose of” – red book containing the formula for Mass, including the words spoken by the Priest, and the actions and responses by all the faithful gathered.

Lectionary (LECK-shun-air-ee) – from the Latin legere, meaning “to read” – book containing the scriptural readings used at Mass.

Book of the Gospels – from the English, Book of the Gospels, meaning “Book of the Gospels” – the book set apart to solely contain the Gospel Readings for Mass.  This book is usually used only for Sunday Masses, or for more important Masses.

Ambo – from the Greek ambwn, meaning “step” or “elevate” – the platform/podium from which the deacon (or priest) reads the Gospel from.

Lectern (LECK-turn) – also from the Latin legere, meaning “to read” – podium from which the Old Testament Reading, the Psalm, and the Epistle are read.  Some churches will only have one podium, from which all readings are read.  Also, the deacon or priest is to give his homily (reflection of the daily scripture) from this location.

Monstrance (MON-strinse) – from the Latin monstrare, meaning “to show” (same origin of words like "demonstrate") – gold or silver stand-like object which holds the Eucharist in a center focal-point called the luna.  Monstrances are used for Eucharistic Adoration (which will be explained in a later post).

Thurible (THUR-ih-bull) – from the Latin thuribulum, meaning “a vessel for burning incense” – oddly enough, the thurible is a vessel for burning incense (bet you never could’ve guessed that from its Latin word of origin).  The thurible is a gold or silver metal container used for burning incense at Mass.  The incense is singed on burning charcoal held in the thurible.  The thurible is held on a chain so that it may be swung to spread incense smoke ceremoniously.  Incense is used to symbolize our prayers rising (like smoke rises) to God, referencing verse 2 of Psalm 141 which says, “Let my prayer come before you like incense.”  Some scholars believe that, since incense wasn’t documented as being used until the 400s or so, that the original intent for incense at Mass was to combat the smell of Mass-goers.  See, people didn’t take daily showers back then, and they crammed into churches—often very hot churches because of candles (no electricity back then)—and you can imagine what a bunch of un-bathed people smelled like in a hot room.

Incense Boat – (like the Book of the Gospels) from the English Incense Boat, meaning ”Incense Boat” (Not as original of a joke this time around, but what can I say? I got lazy.) – the small container with a scoop that holds incense for use in the thurible.

Aspergillum (as-per-JILL-um) – from the Latin aspersere, meaning “to sprinkle” – a handle with a container attached to the tip that has holes for filling up with holy water that can then be sprinkled through the holes onto the faithful gathered at Mass as a reminder of the sprinkling of our Baptism.

Aspersorium (as-per-SORE-ee-um) – also from the Latin aspersere, meaning “to sprinkle” – the container that holds the holy water that the Aspergillum is dipped into for sprinkling.

Somewhat shorter post than the last few, but if I’m breaking up the names of things into four posts so that it’s not too much to take in at once.  Tune in tomorrow for part 3 of the “names of things” series…same bat time, same bat channel…

You Never Even Call Me by My Name

In case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm pretty darn Catholic.  I love that when I go to Church on Sundays (or Saturdays after 4 pm) I'm surrounded by so much ornate decor and incredibly symbolic vessels, colors, sounds, and even smells.  "Smells and Bells" as we like to say (and by "we" I really just mean me, and MAYBE another 4 or 5 painfully corny people out there).  As we've seen in previous posts, even though people like to poke fun at all the little motions we do during Mass, and our Catholic Aerobics of standing, sitting, standing again, kneeling, sitting (cut to mental image of Olivia Newton John's 1981 trainwreck of a video for "Physical"......wait for it…….and......we're back!), and standing again, everything we do has a specific and meaningful name and purpose.  This post—as well as the next 3—will focus on the things we use at Mass, what they're called, and what they're used for, so we can hopefully stop calling them just the "cup" and the "bowl."

So let's start with the cup and the bowl.

Ciborium (sih-BORE-e-um) – from the Latin cibus, meaning "food" – the bowl-shaped vessel that holds the Eucharist (don't worry, we'll devote an entire post—or 6—entirely dedicated to the Eucharist) under the species (fancy word we use for the two “types” of Eucharist) of the Body of Christ.  The ciborium should be made out of a sturdy material and should be either entirely made of (preferably), or at least lined on the interior with a precious metal—normally gold. So that’s the “bowl.”  And now for the “cup,” more correctly called the…

Chalice (CHA-lihs) – from the Latin calix, meaning “cup” – the goblet-shaped vessel that holds the Eucharist under the species of the Blood of Christ.  Like the ciborium, the chalice should preferably be made of a precious metal, but at least gilded (another fancy word meaning “lined with gold”) on the interior.

Those are the two “biggies” for this post, because those are the two objects most noticed by the congregation.  But there are a few more Eucharist-related objects to talk about today, like the…

Paten (PA-ten) – from the Latin patina, meaning “small, broad plate” – this could be one of two objects, but with similar purposes.  The first kind of paten is the small gold (or silver) plate which is used to hold the host (usually a single, larger-sized one) during the Mass.  The other kind of paten—which is not as widely used anymore—is also a small gold (or silver) plate, but this kind has a handle and is held by an altar server under the hands or chin of someone receiving the Eucharist.  This is to ensure that should either the priest or Eucharist-partaker be the clumsiest person in history, the Eucharist will fall onto the paten, rather than on the floor. 

Now, if you’ve ever been sick, or visited a sick person who has had someone bring the Eucharist to them—like if they’re in the hospital and weren’t able to get to Mass on Sunday—the person who brought the Eucharist (hopefully) carried it in a…

Pyx (pihx) – from the Latin pyxis, meaning “small box” – a small, round (precious) metal container used to transport the Eucharist.

There’s also the Chalice’s buddy, called the…

Purificator (PURE-ih-fih-kate-er) – from the Latin purificare, meaning “small, 3-legged goat” (either that or “to make clean”…I can never remember) – a square, white cloth, about the size of a dining table napkin, which is used to wipe the rim of the chalice after someone receives the Blood of Christ.  These are also used in the purification of the communion vessels after Mass (which we’ll talk about 3 posts from now).  There’s also a cool little set of coverings for the chalice.  The first part is called the…

Chalice Veil – a small, square cloth that sits directly on the chalice and covers it before and after its use during the Mass.  Traditionally, this veil is supposed to be the same color as the priest’s chasuble (which we’ll talk about 2 posts from now), but generally, if you see one used these days, it’ll probably just be white.  The chalice veil has a partner, which is called the…

Pall (sounds like the name “Paul”) – a small stiff board covered with linen (and typically very ornately decorated), which covers the chalice after the wine (which will become the Blood of Christ) has been poured into it, to prevent random junk from falling in it.  For one thing, it’s pretty irreverent to have stuff falling into the Blood of Christ all through Mass.  Then it’s an even more wide-spread issue if you’d have people drinking from the chalice that who knows what had been falling in for the past 15 minutes.  I mean, can you imagine if you were in an older church that had asbestos falling from the ceiling?  People would start drinking asbestos, and get sick, then the church would have lawsuits, and it would just be one big mess after another (sorry, I can get pretty far-fetched tangent-happy sometimes).  So all in all, the pall=good. 

So if we’re going to have wine, we need something to put it in until it’s time to pour it into the chalice.  We can go two ways here.  We can use one of the…

Cruets (CREW-its) – from the Old French crue, meaning “pitcher” – metal or (more often) glass pitchers used to hold the water and wine for the Mass.  However, since cruets tend to be on the smaller side, and churches generally need a good bit of wine to have enough Jesus to go around (don’t panic, we’ll explain what that means later, too), most churches use a…

Flagon (FLAG-un) – from the Latin flasca, meaning “flask” – a larger bottle with a handle, spout, and usually a stopper which holds the wine before pouring it into the chalice(s) at Mass.

Now, if you were to look on the Altar during Mass after all this stuff mentioned above had been placed on it, you’d see most of it sitting on a…

Corporal (CORE-prull) – from the Latin corporalis, meaning “of or related to the body” – a larger, white, square cloth on which all the Eucharistic vessels are placed during Mass.

So that’s pretty much the list of vessels and objects used in Mass that are directly related to the Eucharist.  They all have pretty formal names, and pretty much all come from Latin.  So the question is, “Why don’t we just call them the ‘cup’ and the ‘bowl’”?  Well, the really cool thing about the Catholic Church is that we didn’t just spring up 2 months ago when a little group of people got upset at what our pastor at another church said or did.  We’ve been around for 2000 years now…yes, TWO THOUSAND YEARS!  Jesus started the Catholic Church when he commissioned his 12 apostles to go out into the world and preach tell the Good News to all the world, and put Peter in place as head of his church (it’s all in the Bible—we didn’t make this stuff up).  Since the earlier days of the church, up until the Second Vatican Council of 1962 (we’ll talk about councils of the church later), the Mass was all said in Latin, since the Church was pretty big in the Roman Empire.  So most names come from some sort of Latin origin.  It’s really cool that we have these names, because it reminds us of our roots and our rich history.  Let’s be proud of our history and continue to learn the symbolism and tradition of our awesome Faith.

I'm Sure in Her You'll Find the Sanctuary

If you’ve never been to Rome, what are you waiting for?  It’s by far the coolest place I’ve ever been, and I can’t imagine anywhere in the world that could top it (although Assisi, Italy is a close 2^nd).  Walking into St. Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican is one of the most humbling experiences you’ll ever have.  It’s ginormous (it’s a real word now, look it up), and full of artwork you knew existed, but probably didn’t realize was all under that one massive roof.  What’s really cool is the architecture of the church and how elaborately designed it is.  What’s even cooler is that—like everything else in the Catholic Faith—each part of the church has a name and a purpose.  Today we’ll look at the parts of a (typical) church and what they’re for.

So now picture it’s Sunday morning.  You rolled out of bed at the crack of 8:30, ate some chocolate chip pancakes, got dressed, and drove on over to your local parish.  Hopefully you got there a little before 5 minutes ‘til Mass so you could have time to sit quietly and prepare yourself mentally and spiritually, but if not, you can just get up at the crack of 8:15 next week.  Anyway, you walked through the front doors, and probably entered into the…

Vestibule – from the Latin vestibulum, meaning “entrance, or court” – which is a small section that’s separated by a screen, windows, and/or doors from the rest of the main part of the church.  Traditionally, this is where those studying to enter the Catholic Faith (Catechumens) and those waiting to receive the sacrament of Reconciliation (Penitents) would stay until their initiation, in the case of Catechumens, or their reconciliation, in the case of Penitents. With the wide variations in church architecture in recent decades, many newer churches do not have a formal vestibule.

Once you walk through the next set of doors inside the vestibule, you enter the “main” part of the church where the congregation gathers.  This part of the church is called the…

Nave – from the Latin navis, meaning “ship” – which is sort of symbolic of the congregation being on a journey together (a faith journey, I guess).  Traditionally (and still today in some rites of Catholicism), the congregation stood throughout the Mass, rather than sat.  Pews are a fairly more modern addition to the Church building.  If you’re just a part of the congregation, you should probably just stop here in the nave and take a seat with the rest of the congregation.  But if you WERE to go a little further into the church, you’d find a few more architectural treasures. 

There are many different designs of churches, but one of the most widely used is (some form of) the Basilica style.  Now, let’s be sure we distinguish between a "Basilica" and a church built in the "Basilica-style" of architecture. A Basilica, as noted in canon law (law of the Church), is a “more important” church that has been designated as a Basilica by the Pope, and has certain privileges granted to it, such as getting a bell covered by a little umbrella…which I won’t go into detail about here, but you can read more about it at http://www.newadvent.org/.  A Basilica-style church, is a church that is built with a few defining characteristics to its architecture, but in its simplest form, it comes down to having its particular design make the church look like a cross when viewed from above.  So, assuming the church you came to this Sunday morning is built in the very common Basilica style, you’d walk forward from the Nave to the…

Transept – from the Latin trans, meaning “across,” and saeptum, meaning “enclosure” – which, taking its Latin roots into consideration, is pretty self-explanatory.  It’s the part of the church that separates the nave from the other parts we’re about to talk about, and gives the Basilica style church its characteristic “cross” shape.  As a cool little aside, the transept SHOULD run north-south, and the congregation in the nave should be facing east.  The idea is that during Mass, the congregation looks to the “rising sun” (or rising…“Son”? Woah-Ho! Pretty crafty, those Catholics!).  Now, if you go to a church that was built prior to the Renaissance (or at least reminiscent of that style of architecture), you’d next move into the…

Chancel – from the Latin cancelli, meaning “lattice” – this is where those in religious orders would sit facing each other from opposite sides of this area during Mass or chant the Divine Office from outside the context of Mass.  Some churches still have a version of this, but it’s more commonly referred to these days as the “choir” area, or some other label.  However, since it’d be an incredible challenge to find a church in America that was built before the Renaissance (since America was founded quite some time after the Renaissance was over, and since the Native Americans were neither big into Catholicism nor Pre-Renaissance Ecclesiastical Architecture), chances are, you’d move from the Transept to the…

Sanctuary – from the Latin sanctus, meaning “holy," or sanctuarium, meaning “place keeping holy objects” – where most of the cool stuff happens at Mass.  This area is separated in some way from the nave by either a railing, or a few stairs, or some other divider.  The idea of separating what goes on in the Sanctuary from the rest of the congregation is reminiscent of the “Holy of Holies” in the Temple in Jerusalem (mentioned in the Old Testament) where the Ark of the Covenant (the box that held the original tablets of the Ten Commandments) was kept.  Only the High Priest was allowed to enter the Holy of Holies.  Similarly, the Sanctuary is where the Priests, Deacons, and other ministers sit and carry out their duties during the Mass.  As a further division of this larger Sanctuary area, there’s also the…

Apse – form the Latin apsis, meaning “arc” or “a kind of round vessel/bowl” – which is a commonly used term in Church Architecture to denote the domed area where the Altar is located (we’ll talk about the Altar in my next post, too).  Then, usually not seen by the general congregation (not as a secretive thing, but just because the general congregation usually doesn’t have any reason to be there), there’s also the…

Sacristy – from the Latin sacer, meaning “sacred” – which is the room where most things used during the Mass or other liturgical celebrations are kept.  This is also generally where the Priests and Deacons will vest (one of my next posts will talk about what they wear) before Mass, and where the sacred vessels used during the Mass are purified (reverently cleaned).

So that’s a quick run-down of what the parts of a church are called and what they’re used for.  So next time you’re sitting in the nave, looking up at the Sanctuary, remember that we all have a part to play on this journey, and it’s our responsibility to know what our part is and why.  Check back tomorrow (or the next day) for Part 1 of what all those things we USE at Mass are called and why, and what they’re actually used for.

I Saw the Sign

You’re watching the latest disaster-based blockbuster movie.  Just as the movie’s hero, his love interest, and their witty one-lining next-door neighbor catch their first dramatic glimpse of the giant fire-breathing, chicken-headed lizard, you notice someone in the crowd of awed spectators make the Sign of the Cross.  Were they Catholic?  Who knows?  It seems like no matter your faith or circumstances—whether you’re an NBA superstar about to take a game-tying free throw, a college student about to fake his way through a mid-term that he would’ve studied for (had he not pulled an all-nighter trying to get just a LITTLE bit further in “Call of Duty: Black Ops”), or disaster movie Character X pondering whether it’s more troublesome that the fire-breathing, chicken-headed lizard breathes fire, or that it’s a chicken-headed lizard—the Sign of the Cross is humanity’s go-to, last-ditch cry for help.  For Catholics, it’s a bit more meaningful than that.

The Sign of the Cross typically begins and ends “formal” prayer in the Catholic faith.  But many don’t know its roots, present uses, or even the particulars of the traditional ways to make the Sign.  Like so many other things in life, when we do certain actions over and over again, they become routine, and eventually begin to lose their meaning to us if we don’t take the time to remember why we do what we do.  Here’s hoping this can bring us back to the meaning of why we make the Sign of the Cross.

The general figure of the Sign of the Cross is, of course, reminiscent of the suffering of Christ on the cross of his crucifixion.  In Catholicism, we often use gestures, pictures, and symbols to remind us of greater truths of our faith.  In the case of the Sign of the Cross, it is a gesture we make to remind us of Christ’s physical sacrifice and death.  But the symbolism of the whole act of “Signing” ourselves doesn’t stop with the overall cross pattern.  The configuration of our fingers in the traditional forms lends itself to remind us of further, deeper truths.

In one form (most historically linked to Western/Latin-Rite Catholicism) the five fingers of our right hand are separated into two groups.  The thumb folds in to meet the ring finger and the pinky, forming a group of three representing the three persons of the Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.  The index and middle fingers are held together and point straight out, representing the two natures of Christ—Fully Human & Fully Divine.

In another form (more historically linked to Eastern Catholicism), the first three fingers (thumb, index finger, and middle finger) point outward from our hand, touch together, and are meant to represent the three persons of the Trinity.  The last two fingers (ring finger, and pinky) are separated from the other three by folding them down against our palm and are meant to represent the two natures of Christ.  Diving further into this tradition, the first three fingers do not merely touch their tips together, but in fact, have a further, more meaningful configuration.  First, the index finger should point away from the hand at (almost) a 90 degree angle, then the thumb should (comfortably) rest under it.  Finally, the middle finger should curve around to where the outside of the thumb touches the knuckle of the middle finger closest to the finger tip. (Go ahead and try it…I’ll wait…)  Got it?  Ok, now for the meaning.  (Remember…nothing we do in the Catholic Faith is done without meaning.)  The index finger is straight, and is meant to be like the letter “I.”  The crossing of the thumb and middle finger is meant to resemble the letter “X.”  The middle finger alone is meant to curve around to resemble the curve of the letter “S.”  The letters “IXS” are the initials of one of the titles for Christ, “Jesus Christ, Savior”…or in Greek: Iesus Cristos Soder.

So for the full Sign of the Cross, use your right hand to touch your forehead while saying, “In the name of the Father;” touch your chest while saying, “…and of the Son;” and touch your left, then right shoulders while saying, “…and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” (“Amen” coming from the Hebrew verb “aman,” meaning “to strengthen, or to confirm.”)  Also note that Eastern Catholics (and Orthodox) touch their right shoulder, then left.  (Any insight as to why this is, is more than welcome in the comment section.)

There are also a few less frequently used forms of the Sign of the Cross, though they each have their unique importance and use.  One is the act of tracing a cross with the thumb, such as prior to the reading of the Gospel at Mass, when the congregation traces the a cross over their foreheads, lips, and heart as a prayer that the Word of God may be on our minds, lips, and hearts at all times.  There is also the Sign of the Cross made by ordained ministers (Deacon, Priest, or Bishop) to bless people or objects where (in a formal manner) they will either point a straight right hand upward (with their palm facing to the left); or point two fingers (index and middle) straight up, and fold down and group the thumb, ring finger, and pinky (again, signifying the two natures of Christ, and the three persons of the Trinity) and trace a cross shape over—or in the direction of—the person or object they intend to bless.  There is also the practice of using some blessed or holy object (such as a cross or crucifix) to trace the cross in the air as a form of blessing.  Also, in the Beneciction (from the Latin “benedictus” meaning “blessing”) of Eucharistic Adoration, the Priest will hold the Monstrance (from the Latin “monstrare” meaning “to show” –the word where we get some English words like “demonstrate”) containing the Eucharist, and use IT to make the Sign of the Cross on those gathered.

Although the Sign of the Cross is mostly portrayed in the world as being “a Catholic thing,” Catholicism is not the only faith that uses the Sign of the Cross.  Anglican, Lutheran, and Orthodox churches also widely use it.  Other faiths, such as the United Methodist Church, do not definitively require nor reject the practice, but encourage individuals to use it in their personal prayer, should the individual find it to have great personal meaning.  Other churches avoid it at altogether, in attempts to distance themselves from the Catholic Church.

So there you have it…a brief synopsis of why we use the Sign of the Cross and how to “properly” do it.  Although if you forget to “pretzel-ize” your fingers before making the Sign of the Cross, I’m sure God’s ok with that.

Welcome to The Remedial Catholic

So I grew up one of those "Cradle Catholics."  I was always pretty active, being an altar server as a kid, then in youth ministry in Jr. High and High School, then after some "growing pains" that resulted in about a year hiatus from church during my freshman year of college, I came back and entered the Catholic Seminary for 2 1/2 years before realizing that I was actually called to a vocation as a husband and father, rather than a Catholic Priest. 

I left the Seminary in 2005, then took a job as a youth minister at a Catholic Church just north of where I grew up, because their youth minister, Sarah, was stepping down to concentrate on her last couple years of college.  Well, she stayed on to help out, and we met, dated, got engaged the following Easter, and married a little over a year later.  Nine months--and some change--after that, we had our first child, Owen, then 19 months later, had another boy, Eli.

I've taught Religious Ed classes since leaving the Seminary, and feel strongly that my real ministerial calling is to teaching the Catholic Faith.  I've always felt drawn to teaching the basic fundamentals of the Catholic Faith, as I find many people, Catholics and Non-Catholics alike, either misunderstand our faith, or never took the time to learn it in the first place.  It was only this morning that I figured a great way to reach a larger audience (almost) every day would be to put my passion for teaching in the form of a blog...a blog that's sole intent is to teach what we all SHOULD have learned in Religious Ed.  (Hence, the blog title...)

Let me be clear...this blog is NOT intended to be a substitute for private study, or, heaven forbid, going to Church altogether. (Yeah, that was a horrible pun, but as you'll find, I tend to have the sense of humor of a 10-year-old.)  This blog is intended to be a starting point for further study, reflection, and personal prayer. 

I've done my fair share of research on the topics I'll be covering, but I encourage you to research things on your own to further dive into the greater truths of the Faith.  To paraphrase a quote (by someone I can't remember right now), the knowledge I have of God is just a drop of water in the vast ocean of knowledge there is of God.  If you have any questions about what I post, throw them up on the comment board.  Have an idea for a future topic?  Throw that up there, too...or email me...or contact me on Facebook...you've got options.  And, since I'm not God, and I DO make mistakes, if you find an error in something I've said, let me know, and we can discuss what I got wrong.  I've learned a lot of great information about our Faith over my 28 years, but I'm always looking to learn more.

I hope you find this blog to be a good tool to help you on your Faith journey.  I know I'll use it, myself, to further dive into the great mysteries that continue to wow generations of Catholics.