September 24, 2023
Sometimes, it might be helpful for the congregation to know what is on my mind during different parts of the Mass. Outside Mass, my thoughts might be a mixture of whatever song I heard last, random theological inquiries, homily prep, and near-useless facts about the Roman Empire. All of that probably won’t, but the thoughts that engage me during Mass might be of interest. Here, I am not talking about those pesky thoughts that pop up about life outside the celebration of Mass; I’m talking about thoughts regarding the actions and words that might otherwise become routine. I’ve wanted to write this article for some years, but until I get into it, it will continue to be vague. So, what is it that I think about? A shape. That’s right, a shape.
A mandorla is an almond-shaped device often employed in Christian iconography. Mandorla is afterall Italian for almond. Like an almond, the mandorla has pointed ends at the top and bottom. A mandorla forms when two circles intersect; if you know what a Venn diagram is, you have the idea. A mandorla resulting from two intersecting circles is not a side-point; it is essential to what a mandorla represents, which is a gateway. When two worlds (two circles) intersect, a mandorla is formed, and through this overlap, one can pass from one to the other. Many icons of Christ depict Him within a mandorla because He is the bridge between heaven and earth. He is often shown stretching a hand or a foot outside of the mandorla to indicate that it is through His incarnation that He can bridge this gap between worlds. A familiar image for many Catholics is Our Lady of Guadalupe. In this image, she is clothed with the sun. Those light rays also form a mandorla around her, indicating that she is the gateway between heaven and earth. This image also hints at how all humanity, except those born by cesarean, enters this world through a mandorla-shaped gateway. God’s grandeur is all around us in created reality.
So when is it that I think specifically about a mandorla during Mass? After we sing the Lamb of God, you kneel for the second time. I raise the Consecrated Host that I just fractured into two pieces over the chalice as I say: “Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.” After that, you respond: “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” I then consume the Consecrated Host and the Precious Blood and begin the distribution of Holy Communion. It is that moment when I am holding the two halves of the Consecrated Host in the air as high as I am able that I think about the mandorla. The single circle, having been broken in half, overlaps, thus losing the look of a circle, appearing instead as a mandorla. The reality is that Jesus Himself is the gateway. Yet, He is prepared to enter into us under the roof of our mouths (itself an allusion to a gateway). Having received Him, we are challenged to become more like Him, and then through Him, we enter the gateway of heaven. How glorious! I look forward to sharing other tidbits of the Mass and how we may be more fully engaged in what we say and do.
Two Parishes, One Heart,
Fr. Adam