The Language of Sacrifice: a new kind of Mass?

Most people would agree that this is proving to be a very strange Eastertide, but I wonder how many have been thinking about the language of sacrifice. Some have, obviously. There have been some profound reflections on the nature of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross and how that affects each one of us. Others have been discussing the Eucharist, more specifically the possibility of online Communion, though I think it would be fair to say that the language of sacrifice, if used at all, has tended to be more about the experience of deprivation for the would-be communicant than what I, as a Catholic, would instinctively link to the Mass. Then, of course, there has been the popular use of sacrifice in relation to the work being done by healthcare professionals, especially where loss of life has been involved during the current COVID-19 pandemic. 

I am not undervaluing any of this, but I confess to a growing unease which was crystallised a few days ago after learning that one of our oblates in the U.S.A. had been subjected to a reckless and unprovoked invasion of her business space by someone who regards COVID-19 as a hoax. No one is happy about the restrictions placed on everyday life in an effort to stem the tide of COVID-19 infections, but most people are taking them seriously and co-operating generously. Those who don’t are placing others at risk, but I’d like to understand why they are they doing so. Why are a significant number of people choosing to flout regulations designed to protect them and the rest of society from the worst ravages of COVID-19?

I don’t think they can all be dismissed as stupid (some, after all, are highly intelligent and well-educated), unusually selfish (attributing moral failure to others is always tricky, and many would argue that they wish to protect their families by going to their second homes or whatever), or even blessed with overweening self-confidence in their own interpretation of everything from statistics to epidemiology, but perhaps a few have still to learn what sacrifice means and the value it has for us all. The Easter season ought to be a good time for reflecting again on that.

As soon as one says that, one runs into a problem. In the West we have become individualistic and consumerist in our approach to life in general and that affects how we think as well as how we behave. The smartphone and the internet have given us choice, but they have privatised that choice in a way unthinkable thirty years ago. We can watch what we want when and how we want rather than relying on a broadcast or cinema showing; we can buy a single music track rather than a whole recording; we can restrict our reading to those whose views correspond to our own more easily than ever; and we can voice our own opinions, no matter how crazy, for free, almost everywhere. That awareness of choice and our freedom to exercise it has carried over into other areas of life. Better transport means that we are no longer locked into the parish system the way we once were. We can travel to a church we find more congenial, and if one Sunday we don’t feel like getting the car out, there’s probably a livestream we can watch instead. It’s no accident that those who argue for the permissibility of abortion in any circumstances have campaigned under the slogan of ‘a woman’s right to choose’. 

Freedom and choice may have become absolute values for some but is their enjoyment and exercise dependent on the individual or on the group? We are back to elementary classes in political theory. Can we be free if we do not have a society around us that promotes and, if necessary, protects that freedom? Can we have choice unless there are alternatives, and what happens if some choose differently from us? How do we show care and compassion? What does the renunciation of some good or other actually mean?

Freely to give up something one prizes for the sake of a greater good is a very difficult thing to do. It means giving up one’s sense of entitlement, one’s sureness about how things ought to be — and it is only in the West that we have that luxury. I read the other day that there are approximately five intensive care unit beds per million of population in the continent of Africa; in Europe the figure is nearer 4,000. It is easier to make a stand on a matter of principle when there is a safety net to catch one should one fall. Those claiming that their civil liberties are being infringed by the COVID-19 restrictions are right. They are being curtailed, but for a reason: the common good. And that is where it becomes necessary to understand why sacrifice is part of human life, not just religious life.

Without sacrifice, without the free, conscious renunciation of some private good, society as a whole suffers. If, for example, we do not agree to the payment of taxes, the sacrifice of some part of our income, we cannot expect publicly-funded education, healthcare or any of the services we identify as necessary to our well-being. If we do not sacrifice some personal good, such as our presumed right to say what we like when we like, we may seriously wound or even harm others (think slander and defamation). For the religiously inclined, this ought to be easier to grasp, but I don’t think it always is. For example, during Holy Week there was a lot of emoting in social media about being deprived of the Eucharist because the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of England and Wales had given instructions about Mass which meant that its celebration had to take place behind closed doors, without a congregation present. It was, and is, hard for all of us; but if we concentrate on our own loss and our own sense of deprivation, I think we miss the point. The Mass is one with the sacrifice of Calvary, one with Christ’s self-giving on the cross. It is where our understanding of sacrifice begins, not ends. 

That, I think, is why for the Christian the language of sacrifice can never be limited to what we do in church but must have a larger context. Whatever any of us sacrifices is never a purely individual act, a matter of personal choice alone. I’d say that the people who are worrying about the survival of their jobs and the businesses they have built up are doing more sacrificing than those of us who are being shielded behind closed doors. Those working in hospitals or other front-line services, keeping the rest of us supplied with the necessities of life, are sacrificing hugely, sometimes at the cost of their own lives. I’d add that those dying without the sacraments, those mourning the death of someone they love without a ‘proper’ funeral, are experiencing the closure of church buildings and the restrictions on clergy in a uniquely sacrificial way. So it goes on. We can name endless groups of people or individuals who are being required to sacrifice something precious to them.

Sometimes we talk about sacrifice in abstract terms, forgetting that it can hurt, that the pain is deeply felt. We have to trust, as Jesus did on the cross, that the results will be worthwhile; but it is trust that is involved, not a problematic certainty of the kind often alluded to in the mantra of our times, ‘let’s follow the science’. I hope it is not going too far to suggest that today, throughout the world, a different kind of Mass is being celebrated, a Mass in which human loss and pain are caught up into the sacrifice of Christ on the cross with an intensity most of us have not known before. Let us pray that we may be equal to what is asked of us and take our part, never forgetting that Christ’s sacrifice leads ultimately to victory and everlasting life.

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16 thoughts on “The Language of Sacrifice: a new kind of Mass?”

  1. As ever, you turn our experiences through 180° and give us a whole new way of seeing and experiencing.
    A friend emailed me and said what a lonely experience it was ‘watching’ the Easter liturgies with only a candle for company. Her husband commented that it was the companionship she was missing as well. And of, course that’s true, especially when we consider the meaning of companion ‘with bread’. But she added how lucky we are to be able to do this when so many in the third world can go months without access to the Mass or sacraments. I shall send her this piece which I know she will wholeheartedly agree with. Thank you.

  2. On the topic of those who regard covid-19 as a hoax and subjected your colleague in the US to the unpleasant attack, I see those deniers as conspiracy theorists, of which there are plenty. Among the things that strike me about conspiracy theorists is their attachment to ideas in the absence of evidence, their inability to reason and their sheer persistence in the face of better, alternative ideas. In other words, they are on the same spectrum of delusions and hallucinations as those with psychoses, although they don’t experience it as severely as those with a diagnosis of schizophrenia. So I actually have compassion for them, in the same way that I have compassion for people with more severe mental disorders, as they are in the grip of something that they cannot control, albeit something that makes them difficult for others to deal with.

  3. “a Mass in which human loss and pain are caught up into the sacrifice of Christ on the cross with an intensity most of us have not known before”
    This reminds me of Teilhard de Chardin’s Mass On The World…
    “Since once again, Lord — though this time not in the forests of the Aisne but in the steppes of Asia — I have neither bread, nor wine, nor altar, I will raise myself beyond these symbols, up to the pure majesty of the real itself; I, your priest, will make the whole earth my altar and on it will offer you all the labours and sufferings of the world.”…

    • Yes, I was thinking of him, and of a poem of Marie-Noel I discussed with a friend yesterday. My friend is a brilliant and perceptive translator. I do not think she’ll mind my quoting part:

      Our Bread. Pain in the gale-blown sails,
      Pain in the millwheel’s mighty splashing
      Pain in the heavy sacks of men
      Laden like their beasts of burden
      Pain of the wheat so fiercely ground
      Under the millstone round and round.

  4. Goodness, what a profoundly moving and evocative post. Thank you, it is a perspective on sacrifice that we need to refocus on, from the particular to the infinite.

  5. Thank you Sister my husband and I were discussing why some people think that they can flout the reglations, this morning. I am going to forward your writtings to him – he is not a Christian but a searcher and I think what you have writen will give him something to ponder. Take care

  6. Unfortunately, a lot of people who’s President said that COVID-19 was a hoax, believe anything and everything that he says without question.
    For a nation that likes to tell the world how to live, they hate being told how to live, even by their State Governors and police and many businesses are remaining open, flouting the necessary physical distancing rules that will save people’s lives, if not their livelihood.

  7. This is very much the territory I have been trying to explore in my doctoral research, in which I try to work with the concept of what I call (not originally, but with perhaps a slightly different nuance from some others; my internal jury is still out on that) mundane liturgy as part of a response to the mystery of suffering (NOT a solution to the problem of pain, which I don’t think is accessible in this world.) In a way I would never have wished for, the entire world currently seems engaged in a particularly evident way on my research project, and it is immensely humbling and helpful to read your words, Dame Catherine, as an encouragement to proceed with it. Thank you so much.

    • Thank you, Sr Ann, for your generous comment — and for revealing the subject of your Ph.D. You know, I think, that I was much influenced in my younger days by René Girard and I believe it shows. I’m not a theologian, but surely we all need to reflect as best we can on what the whole world is going through at present. Where it will lead, I don’t know, but it matters. I hope your Ph.D. will be published (eventually). In the meantime, you and your research are in my prayers.

  8. I believe those who flaunt the covid-19 restrictions do so out of ignorance – either the not knowing or the not caring kind, perhaps a combination of both. Add to that the perception on the part of some that their civil liberties are being eroded by lockdown and we soon get the impression they value those liberties above all else; it becomes their own golden calf.

    My husband and I were out for a walk on the park path a few weeks ago when a group of runners approached. We stepped aside to the far edge of the path allowing more than the needed space for their passage. One fellow, late 30’s perhaps, stepped towards me, leaned into me and forcefully exhaled into my face while giving me a disdainful glare. I’d never seen him before, so why did he do this? Perhaps because he, along with others we’ve heard from, believe lockdown is a burden imposed upon society for the protection of “boomers” and old folk. We are disposable as far as they are concerned because they don’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves.

    We have a duty to inform ourselves and to care for others which involves a measure of sacrifice in the process. Our faith compels us to do so. These troubled times require sacrifice of different measures and I, for one, am deeply grateful for the sacrifice of others and am happy to follow guidelines.

    • I am sorry you were exposed to such dangerously boorish behaviour. Ghastly! Like you, I am grateful for the sacrifices others are making to keep me and others like me as well as possible.

  9. I have a lot of compassion for people in government because the choices are very difficult indeed, and I think this will become clearer as the lockdown is eased. Lift up too quickly and there is a spike in infections perhaps worse than the first. A generation blighted.

    But a long lockdown has a severe impact and a severe economic recession will have a doleful impact on a whole range of people, and sadly its own impact on health and yes, death rates (suicides, domestic violence etc ). A generation blighted.

    How to get that balance right when relying on experts projections and models which are……projections and models, is massively difficult.

    So I pray for those in government (even if they are of a different politics than mine) and I pray for those working to obtain a vaccine.

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