May 15 was Pentecost Sunday. On that day, I just so happened to be in Rome. A few of my friends and I were lucky enough to attend Pentecostal Mass given by the Pope at St. Peter’s Basilica. Before we left we did some research, and by research I mean we texted my Priest from home some questions that he vaguely answered because I’m pretty certain he still doesn’t know how to use his phone. Father Damien described Pentecost Sunday as “the descent of the Holy Spirit and the end of the Easter season.” So with this knowledge in hand, we made our way to St. Peter’s.
We waited for a bus that never came, were led to an unknown side entrance, found open seats with a great view of the altar, and then finally, as the Pope was walking down the aisle, an Italian usher who only ever said the word “Prego” led us to open seats only a few dozen rows back from the altar itself. The young, assumingly French man who sat down next to us said it best when he turned to us and managed to say “unbelievable.” The circumstance of how we ended up with such amazing seats is truly unbelievable.
I have known my whole life that the word catholic, literally translated, means “universal.” But I don’t think I really ever understood why until this experience. We were given booklets that translated the mass from Latin into both Italian and English, but I didn’t need one. I had never attended mass in Latin but I have attended mass my entire life. The structure and process of the mass is truly universal, regardless of the language. The most beautiful and significant part of the mass is the act of Transubstantiation. Paragraph 1376 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church states,
“The Council of Trent summarizes the Catholic faith by declaring: "Because Christ our Redeemer said that it was truly his body that he was offering under the species of bread, it has always been the conviction of the Church of God, and this holy Council now declares again, that by the consecration of the bread and wine there takes place a change of the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ our Lord and of the whole substance of the wine into the substance of his blood. This change the holy Catholic Church has fittingly and properly called transubstantiation," (CCC, 1376).
I have seen the action of Transubstantiation a seemingly infinite amount of times but I had never seen it like this. I do not understand Latin and I could not actually see this action take place, but hearing the calm voice of Pope Francis recite these familiar and sacred words made me truly believe in this church dogma. God was present there in that very moment. This mass was an epitome of both the Pentecost and the translation, “universal.”
When the Holy Spirit came down, every single person could understand each other and speak in each other’s tongues. No one in that Basilica spoke the same language, most of us have probably never even been in the same room before but every single person in that room knew that we were now in the presence of the body and blood of Jesus Christ.
That's the beautiful thing about Catholicism -- the mass is a constant. Regardless of where you are in the world, the mass contains the exact same parts you have been experiencing since you were a child. The readings, the music and the message may change, but the real and physical presence of God does not. God doesn't speak a language. God is universal.
