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I will guess that we have all heard the explanation of why this Sunday is called Laertare (“Rejoice”) and why we have rose (rosacea) vestments and that the Roman Station is at the Church of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem. St. John Henry Newman wrote of this church:
“This Basilica is so called, because Saint Helena, not only brought the True Cross there, but earth from Mount Calvary on which the Chapel or the Altar there is built — thus if there be a centre of the Church, we shall be there, when we are on earth from Jerusalem in the midst of Rome.”
Today’s prayers and antiphons focus on Jerusalem and on joy. Psalm 121 (122), one of the “gradual canticles”, songs of pilgrimage to Jerusalem, dominates the Mass: “I rejoiced (laetatus sum) at the things that were said to me: we shall go into the house of the Lord”. Keep before your eyes the image of catechumens preparing for baptism at the Vigil of Easter. They have experienced the scrutinies, the toughest of which would have been during this last week. They were exorcized last Sunday the Basilica of St. Lawrence. They are now drawing close to entering the safe-haven, the Jerusalem which is Holy Church. Today’s Station, the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, with its relics of the Passion, was symbolically Jerusalem for the Romans, and therefore a symbol of the heavenly Jerusalem for which we all long.
In the ancient Church of Rome, we Catholics didn’t begin the most serious period of penitential fasting until this midway point before Easter. Originally, the Lenten period began with Quadragesima or “Fortieth”, also the Latin name now for Lent. The days from Ash Wednesday through Saturday were added later to take into account the Triduum, etc. Hence, we are about 20 days into ancient Lent which is why this 4th Sunday was called “Dominica in vigesima … Sunday on the twentieth” and also “caput ieiunii … the start of the fast”. At this mid-point, there was a brief pause for us to catch our breath, as it were, like Jewish pilgrims needed on the way up the long sloping climb to Jerusalem. In fact, the Collect for Mass has the very word “respiremus … may we catch our breath, be refreshed”.
Here’s the terse Collect for the Vetus Ordo, the Traditional Latin Mass:
Concede, quaesumus, omnipotens Deus:
ut, qui ex merito nostrae actionis affligimur,
tuae gratiae consolatione respiremus.
One aspect of the prayer’s construction pops out sharply. Note that merito nostrae actionis counterbalanced in a chiasmus with tuae gratiae consolatione (ablative genitive genitive … genitive genitive ablative). Also, the nostrae and the tuae are prepositive, which lends them greater emphasis.
The splendiferous Lewis & Short Dictionary says, under the lemma mereo, that meritum is a noun for “that by which one deserves any thing of another”, which can thus mean, negatively, “demerit, blame, fault”. Respiro is “to fetch one’s breath again, to recover breath; to recover, revive, be relieved or refreshed after any thing difficult”.
LITERAL VERSION:
Grant, we beseech You, almighty God:
that we who are being afflicted because of the blamefulness of our acting,
may find relief in the consolation of Your grace.
Ancient Roman prayers are courtly, elegant. They seem even to turn divine characteristics, such as glory and grace, into forms of address, like “tua gratia”. In England people address Cardinals as “Your Grace”. Latin gratia concerns “favor”, the kindness extended to us or the thanks we return (gratias agere). Conceptually it also has, like meritum, an undertone of recompense. “Grace” in the Christian view is something God is in no way compelled to give: it is free gift.
The nostrae and the tuae are prepositive, which lends them greater emphasis. There is a tension in the prayer between “merit” (on our part) and “favor” (on God’s). On our own, we merit nothing good. We are not totally corrupt because of original sin, but only God’s involvement in our actions can make what we do good, meritorious. On our own, we merit only hell.
Look also at actio (from ago, agere) which is “a doing, an acting” and especially, “public functions, civil acts, proceedings, or duties”. At the heart of the Church’s Eucharist liturgy is the actio, the Roman Canon. Christ is the true Actor in the sacred liturgical actio. By baptism we participate actively in the Actor’s actio by receiving what He freely gives. By the merits of our own actio we are justly afflicted. By the merit of Christ’s actio we are saved. His actio is our consolatio.
This Sunday has more than one nickname. It is also called Refreshment (respiremus!) Sunday or the Sunday of the Five Loaves. The Gospel from John 6 describes how near Bethsaida (in the Jewish region) Our Lord multiplied five barley loaves and two fishes to feed a multitude having 5000 men. That means a lot more people were there. Twelve baskets of left overs were gathered, like the twelve tribes in so doing.
By the way, it is in this very reading that Our utters those immortal words:
Colligite quae superaverunt fragmenta, ne pereant… Gather the fragments which are left over, lest they be wasted.
Perhaps here at One Peter Five we can call this Colligite Sunday. But I digress.
By this miraculous feeding, Jesus revealed Himself to be the New Moses. As chosen people ate miraculous manna in the wilderness with Moses journeying to what would eventually be Jerusalem, these people ate bread from the Word made flesh who would be Word Flesh made Bread to draw all people to the New Jerusalem.
Moreover, in both cases of wilderness superabundance, there was first a time of deprivation, fasting. This is our paradigm. The Church has always underscored this. We fast before our feasts. We are our rites.
We do well to take on mortifications and deprivations in this life. In so doing we do penance for our sins and we can make reparation for the sins of others. We also learn the value of bounty and the promises of the life to come.
So, with this Sunday we have a slight relaxation of our Lenten discipline which will encourage us to renew our determination. More and more I like that respiremus, “may we catch our breath”, in our Collect. I have the image of someone with the end in sight, the end of a long pilgrimage, maybe to the heavenly Jerusalem, who pushes forward, perseveres with renewed hope that, yes, with God’s help it is going to be possible, it’s going to be alright.