Have you noticed that over the last few months, we have experienced a number of times when our usual Sunday Mass and readings have been replaced with a special feast day or event? Last weekend we had All Souls’ Day and before that, in September, we observed the “Exaltation of the Holy Cross,” also on a Sunday. This weekend, here we are again! Instead of the Sunday Mass and readings, we celebrate the Dedication of the Basilica and Cathedral of St. John Lateran. Who or what is this and why is it so important as to “bump” the usual Sunday Mass…?
To help answer our question, we need first to undertake a quick lesson in church history and geography! Every church, including any parish church, is ‘dedicated”. There is, of course, the dedication to a particular saint or saints, or another religious dedication such as the Blessed Sacrament, or Christ the King. The actual building is also dedicated and consecrated. This usually happens once the debt incurred in its building has been paid off. There also may be a rededication of a church once some major renovations have happened (as happened with Notre Dame in Paris, after the repairs from the fire had been completed). The rite of dedication is a beautiful occasion, full of symbolism and ritual. It is a huge event in the life of any parish or community. Our feast day this weekend marks the time, many hundreds of years ago, (in 324 AD) when the cathedral and basilica of St. John Lateran was dedicated.
We can therefore understand why the dedication of a parish church, or diocesan cathedral, is so important; but why celebrate the dedication of this particular church with this odd name of St. John Lateran? The church (or more accurately, the archbasilica) is located in Rome, Italy and it is the oldest and principal church in Rome. A plaque at the entrance of the archbasilica gives the full title: “the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saints John the Baptist and John the Evangelist at the Lateran.” Furthermore, it is the Pope’s cathedral as the Bishop of Rome (not St. Peter’s, as many think). For these reasons, it is the ‘mother church’ of every church in the world. Another inscription above the entrance to the Cathedral makes this clear: ‘Mother and Head of All Churches in Rome and in the World.” It shows our link, our unity, with the Holy Father and with every other Diocese, bishop and parish community in the world. The Lateran Basilica is therefore a visible sign of the whole Church, the body of Christ that is all of us here and in every place and time throughout the world and throughout history. Quite a thought! Incidentally, the “Lateran” part of the name comes from a palace and the land on which the archbasilica was build, owned by the Laterani family.
Our history and geography lessons are over, but there is another lesson that may help us. We can begin this next lesson with another question…why so much fuss over a building, wonderful as it might be (and, it certainly is)…? After all and, as we know, sometimes with great sadness, church buildings are bricks and mortar and they, like other buildings, come and go. Indeed, we know that there have been four re-buildings of Lateran Basilica in Rome. It is true that we can still have a church or parish community without an actual church building. It is also true that we can pray anywhere and that God’s presence is not limited to a church building. Furthermore, we do not leave God or prayer behind when we leave a church…at least hopefully we do not! Furthermore, we know that the people, the parishioners, are the ‘living stones’ and that they are, in the end, more important than any physical structure alone.
However, our feast today also can help us reflect about the importance of a church building and its rich symbolism and meaning for us…We know in our hearts that a church is not just a building. It can be a visible and living symbol of so much. Our feast day today invites us to spend just a few minutes looking around our own church next time we are in it, reflecting on this symbolism. This can be a great thing to do, especially as we can be so familiar with our church, that we may easily ignore all its rich symbolism, or simply take it for granted.
We can begin with the altar: a central focus in any church. The altar is a symbol of Christ’s presence and also of his sacrifice for us. This is why we bow to the altar or kiss it. Most altars are covered with a cloth, but if we take off the cloth, we will notice five crosses on it that represent the five wounds of Christ (his hands, his feet and his side). Also, inside most altars, are some relics of the saints, especially the martyrs. This reminds us that we are the body of Christ and we are linked to the Church throughout history and, like the saints, we are called to be witnesses to Christ.
We may think that there is just one major altar or table in a church, but there is, in many respects, a second one: the ambo, or the “table of God’s Word”. Here we hear proclaimed the “Word of the Lord” or the “Gospel of the Lord”. It is a powerful and visible reminder that the Lord feeds us and that he is present to us, not only in the Eucharist, but also in his Word. Another way of seeing this is to take note that our two altars or tables reinforce the very structure of our celebration of Mass, where we have the Liturgy of the Word and then the Liturgy of the Eucharist.
A number of our churches have stained glass windows. They often depict scenes from the Scriptures or have various Christian symbols, or a representation of the saints. The windows are there to teach us and to remind us about key parts of our faith. We can think of how important this must have been back in the days when many people could not read or write: the stained glass windows were, in effect, their books. The windows though are a potent symbol in another way. On a dreary day, or if the church is in darkness, then no light shines through the windows: their beauty is hidden. However, when light floods through them, the light reveals their true nature and beauty. This is a rich symbol of us. We need the light of Christ to shine through us; otherwise, we will remain in darkness. Thinking of the image of light, there are also many candles in a church. Of course, they remind us that Christ is our light: the light that shines on us and guides us. We can also see that our faith and love should be like the candle’s living flame, burning bright!
Many churches also have the Stations of the Cross. We usually focus on these during the season of Lent but, at any time of the year, they can call to mind that we are disciples of Jesus and that he calls us to follow in his footsteps. We are indeed called to take up our cross and follow him.
The tabernacle (the place where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved) is, of course, a vital focus in any church building. Some churches may well have a special chapel dedicated to this. There may be organized periods of the adoration of our Lord, really present in the sacrament of the Eucharist. The word “tabernacle” really means a “tent” or a “hut” and it is derived from the tent of meeting, or the presence of the Lord, in the holy of holies in ancient Israel. Additionally, the tabernacle holds the reserved Blessed Sacrament that may, for example, be taken out to those who cannot get to Mass for various reasons.
The very structure of a church, its shape and design, is also symbolic. Any building stands, rather than, collapses due to its design and engineering. There are different materials and functions, different stresses and strains, that counter balance each other. This is a rich symbol of our diversity yet unity as a church community. We are all so different and bring diverse gifts and roles, yet we are one. If we are missing some of this, then the structure is weakened and poorer: so too if we are missing some of our brothers and sister, the living stones.
Finally, we should not forget the church doors, for they too are symbolic. They remind us that we have been called and invited in to encounter the Lord. In fact, the root of the word “church” really means to be gathered in or to be called out. However, we also leave by the same doors, for they are meant to be opened wide, so that we can share and bring all that we have received to all those we meet. As a prayer found in a school chapel puts it:
O God,
Make the door of this house
Wide enough to receive all who need human love and fellowship
Narrow enough to shut out all envy, pride and strife
Make its threshold smooth enough to be no stumbling block
to children, nor to straying feet, but
Rugged and strong enough to turn back the tempter’s power
O God, make the door of this house
the gateway to Thine eternal kingdom.
In conclusion, we are part of the church building and intimately part of its rich symbolism: we are, of course, those living stones. Without us and our foundation in Christ, the “corner stone”, a church might be a beautiful building yes, but it would be dead, without a heart. As we leave Mass, we must carry from our church a sense of being a living church, the body of Christ and take out that presence of Christ to all those who have not been with us in church today: to our school, our neighbourhood, our place of work, or our community. In the end we are, like any church, ‘dedicated’ to God. Let us be true, living signs, of God’s love and presence.
Very Rev. Msgr. Anthony M. Barratt, STL, PhD, ChM
