I still remember — 60 years later — the Sunday the Mass changed! A few years earlier the bishops of the Second Vatican Council had called for the reform of the Mass, and now the first changes were being implemented on the parish level.

The changes were jarring! A free-standing altar suddenly appeared in the sanctuary! During the Mass the priest faced the congregation! The Sunday readings were proclaimed by a layman in English! In fact, most of the Mass prayers were in the vernacular! And the congregation, silent for centuries, now prayed out loud — right here in church!

The years that followed were bumpy to say the least. Change is never easy. Ritual is repeating familiar actions. We were not repeating things! Some parts of the Mass seemed downright new. Actually, they were not. They often dated back to the earliest days of the liturgy, long neglected but now revived.

Nonetheless, by the time I was ordained a priest in 1972, things had smoothed out nicely. The reformed Eucharistic liturgy — officially the Missal of Pope Paul VI — was the Mass I have been privileged to joyfully celebrate for 53 years.

People today do not realize that 99 percent of the Masses we pre-Vatican II Catholics attended in our parishes were Low Masses. Pretty stripped down. No music generally. Very quiet, very solemn. Trouble was that most people did not know what was going on in the sanctuary. Encouraged by my fifth-grade religion teacher, I bought a St. Joseph’s Daily Missal — Latin on the left, English on the right — and I am proud to say that even at ten years old I could follow the Mass, deftly moving ribbons, etc. When we children “played Mass” at home, it was a pretty good rendition of the Tridentine Mass.

But now that I could follow the Mass, it concerned me that most of the people around me at Mass, my family included, were not following the liturgy as I was. Most of the people in the pews were reciting rosaries, praying novenas, and if there was a second priest available, going to confession! My father, a Catholic for 30 years, never knew the Our Father was recited as an integral part of the Mass until the changes came about! I always knew there was a Gospel reading, but until I started using my missal, I had no idea there was an epistle reading too. Since it was in Latin and the priest read it in very low voice, only the handful of us with missals were reading the epistle. Too many others were not hearing the Word!

In my opinion, the reformed Eucharistic liturgy following Vatican II has provided the Church with very moving liturgy. It draws everyone in the congregation into full, active, conscious participation. The congregation, the priestly people of God by baptism, are no longer passive spectators but perform essential work during the Mass. They confess sins. They present gifts of bread and wine (their sacrifices). Their gifts are consecrated by the effusion of the Holy Spirit and the words of institution and become the Body and Blood of Christ, his sacrifice of Christ on the cross. These gifts are given in praise and thanksgiving to God’s honor and glory. And the people say “amen.” They receive the Eucharist. They leave the assembly blessed to bring Christ to the world.

In my humble opinion, the ceremonies introduced by the reform are magnificent! Some say the new Mass is less solemn or less reverent than the pre-Vatican II Mass. The reformed Eucharistic liturgy has its own kind of solemnity, different certainly from the silence of the Tridentine liturgy! You have only to witness the liturgies of Pope Leo XIV and our own bishop to realize the power and majesty of the reformed Eucharistic liturgy.

For example, take the entrance procession. In my youth, the priest and two acolytes (I was often one of them) walked a few steps from the sacristy to the foot of the altar. In the new Mass, a procession led by a cross bearer and two candle bearers (and perhaps even two servers bearing censer and incense), are followed by concelebrating priests if there are any, by a deacon holding aloft a magnificent Book of the Gospels (a symbol of Christ), and then the presider, in persona Christi, as the congregation sings an appropriate hymn. Pure solemnity!

For example, take the confession of sins. In my youth, the priest and servers whispered the confiteor as the congregation knelt silently, possibly not knowing what was being prayed in the sanctuary in their name. In the new Mass, the entire assembly — priest and laity — confess together!

Another example: on Sundays in pre-Vatican II days the priest prayed the gloria, in Latin as the congregation knelt, not necessarily knowing what he was praying. In the reformed Eucharistic liturgy, the entire congregation, standing (the most respectful liturgical posture), joins the priest and prays — and more often sings — “Glory to God in the highest.” It’s the supper of the lamb from the Book of Revelation here and now!

Another example: the Gospel procession. In my youth, the priest walked a few steps to what was called “the Gospel side of the altar” to read the Gospel quietly, not from a lectionary or Gospel book but from the altar missal. He read it quietly in Latin. He would later have to read it a second time from the pulpit in the people’s language so he could preach on it.

But in the new Mass we have a magnificent Gospel procession. It begins with the presiding priest blessing the deacon; the deacon raises the Book of the Gospels aloft and processes to the ambo accompanied by two candle bearers (and possibly even incense), while the entire congregation sings multiple alleluias! What a reverent greeting of the Gospel and of Jesus about to speak to us! Can anything be more solemn or more reverent?

Another example, and the one that is perhaps the most powerful to me: the doxology and amen. The Roman Canon, then and now, ends with a doxology. In my youth the priest rapidly made five crosses with the consecrated host over the chalice and corporal and then elevated the chalice and host slightly (it was called “the minor elevation”) while praying the “per ipsum.” He would conclude the doxology with an amen. According to St. Ambrose and St. Augustine, that amen rightfully belongs to the congregation, but the priest said it himself. Again, we could hardly see or hear what was happening at this pivotal point in the Mass.

In the reformed Eucharistic liturgy, the ceremony is changed, though the words are the same. The priest holds up the paten with the Body of Christ and the chalice with his Blood praying (or even chanting), “Through him … ,” and at the conclusion, the people say or sing, “Amen.” In fact, the musical setting used may have multiple amens. In Augustine’s day, the pagan neighbors complained that the Catholic congregation was too loud when singing the amen at this point in the Mass. It woke them up. I find this moment of the reformed Eucharistic liturgy deeply powerful, and the doxology giving honor and glory to God along with the people’s amen touches me deeply.

The success of the reformed Eucharistic liturgy depends on two factors: the dedication of the priest-presider and the full, active, conscious participation of the congregation. When we have both, the promise of the Mass of Paul VI is fulfilled.Father Mark Woodruff is pastor of Sacred Heart Parish in Menard and St. Theresa of the Child Jesus Parish in Junction.