[A note: Some posts that I write will be more academic in nature, critically engaging theories and ideas, citing and interacting with sources, etc., and some less so - some more descriptive and experiential. Really, to drive a wedge between these two especially when discussion something like Sacred Liturgy is destructive and misses the point, but there are different perspectives from which to look at the same thing.]
Kneeling in the pews of a beautiful Gothic Church, priest upon the altar, during Holy Mass, I sense as though everyone is going somewhere. The straight, narrow arc of the Church, the Sanctuary elevated one step up from the Nave, and the Altar three steps up from the rest of the Sanctuary, all give the presentation of "Further Up, Further In."
It appears, in the fullest sense of the word, to me that Holy Mass is a movement. Everyone in the nave, all the masses of people (and, just as equally, the several, when the Church is far less full) pray collectively and together, provocatively evoking that ancient symbolism of the nave as the ship. Ships are traveling vessels; those on ships travelers. When we enter the Church and assist at Holy Mass, we get on the ship and we embark upon a journey. And, as the laity, we are the followers at Holy Mass. By virtue of our baptism, we have the prerogative to enter the nave, to get onboard the ship, wherein at Holy Mass we follow.
*Let no one dare to say that this implies a derogation of the "role of the laity" at Holy Mass. To do so would impugn the significance and dignity of baptism and represent the most obtuse form of "clericalism," if such a thing really even exists. There are no leaders if there are no followers, democracy be damned.*
At the beginning of Holy Mass, at least for centuries upon centuries if not according to the experience of most Catholics these days, the priest at the outset declares: "Introibo ad altare Dei" - I go unto the altar of God, wherein the server responds: "Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam" - To God, who giveth joy to my youth. So the priest ascends the altar, but as the servers affirm on behalf of the faithful steeped in preparatory prayer, so I go from the nave. "Go" - it is a verb, an action, which denotes a movement from one place to another.
From another angle, my own physical movement throughout Holy Mass reflects this point. I enter the Church from the rear, through the vestibule and into the nave. I proceed through the nave to a spot from which to assist. At various points, I kneel - even beyond the remarkable significance of this posture, it is a forward movement. And then, provided I am in the State of Grace, I approach the Sanctuary to receive the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Our Lord. This too is a movement, wherein I approach the precipice of this world and the one above.
As I mentioned at the outset, I notice this "movement" inherent in Holy Mass especially in Gothic Churches: long, narrow edifices which nearly feel like a tunnel (though not in the claustrophobic sense). Our walls and maps are the sacred images adorning the walls, floor, and ceiling. The lamp really is the lamp: the continually-burning Light of the Presence. The river's current carries me forward and opens the gates, and all the way to the throne, for at the Elevation of the Host and Chalice, the priest, totally in persona Christi, has taken his flock to the Father, and shows everything to Him. Thus then may we reap the fruit of this movement, as I mentioned above.
In Holy Mass, I can really experience the Church, and myself in it, as the Church Militant, marching determinately toward Christ, the author and perfecter of the Faith. The Mass, then, is the Church's recommendation of itself to God and thus proclamation of God to mankind. The barque will be assailed from all sides, but we have many maps and guides to clearly lead us, and this barque is the only ship going where we need to go. The outside flood will spare none.
*I should add that the above experience only happens, and really only can happen, when the priest too prays in the proper direction. The whole Mass, and the proper "experience" of the Mass, crumbles when the priest chooses a backwards posture that encircles the people, for then they go nowhere, God is not invited, they are stagnant and appear to only be celebrating themselves.*
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