Mass Intentions: Twentieth-Century Theology and Pastoral Reform [Part Two]

Twentieth-Century Theology: Maurice de la Taille

One of the more significant theologians to treat our question is the much-neglected Maurice de la Taille (1872–1933), ⁵ whose Mysterium Fidei set an agenda for Eucharistic theology for part of the twentieth century despite eventually being overshadowed by the “mystery theology” approach of Dom Odo Casel. ⁶ Following Thomas Aquinas, de la Taille adopted the position that the fruits of the Mass are limited by the devotion of the offerers; however, like Duns Scotus, he also differentiated between what is offered and those making the offering. This is mainly because for Scotus the church and not Christ is the immediate offerer of the Eucharistic sacrifice. ⁷

Adopting Scotus’s approach enabled de la Taille to do several things. First, he argues for the limited effectiveness of the Mass ex opere operantis, through the devotion of those celebrating, that is, proportionate to their devotion:

From the nature of the Mass . . . it should already be clear that the value or fruit—though it would be infinite if we merely had to take into consideration the infinite worth of what is offered in the Mass—is limited, nevertheless, by our offering. This fruit is limited primarily by the devotion of the Church offering in common; it is also limited in a secondary manner and cumulatively by the devotion of the individual offerers. ⁸

Second, de la Taille continues to affirm that the priest, who is charged with applying the intention for the Mass, has an independent role in applying this intention. ⁹ He concludes:

The whole Church . . . offers. The priest, the legitimate minister of the Church, offers. Those of the faithful also offer who make contributions to provide for the materials which are consecrated in the sacrifice, and of the sustenance of the priests and others who rightly live by the altar. Finally, the faithful who assist offer the sacrifice. The devotion and fervor of all these contribute to limit and determine the fruit of the Mass, not, however, in the same manner or degree. ¹⁰

Later, distinguishing between the ability of the priest to offer the Mass and the question of his personal sinfulness or worthiness, de la Taille adds: “We must consider the celebrant, then, as contributing far and away beyond the rest to the increase and value of this his sacrifice.” When it comes to stipends, however, he follows the traditional line of one mass/one stipend. ¹¹ To be sure, the people present are active offerers of the Mass. Here he cites Peter Damian, who in turn cited the formula “who offer to you” and the use of the plural in the Roman Canon. ¹² And so, following Francisco de Vitoria and Dominic de Soto, he argued, “the greater the number of persons assisting at Mass, other things being equal, the greater the fruits of the Mass.” ¹³

So far, so good. But the crucial question here, as we shall see, is his affirmation that the priest has a special title in applying the fruits of the Mass for an intention he has accepted. ¹⁴ On what basis? De la Taille based his argument on the direct continuity between people’s offerings for the sustenance of the church, the poor, and the priest in the early church and the monetary offerings that support the clergy now. It seems to me that the flaw in this argument, as I pointed out in the previous article, is a failure to recognize the move from an inclusive to an exclusive understanding of the offerings given by the faithful, that is to say the transformation of the Mass into a kind of pie that could be divided up that was abetted by what we have called Germanization, or a quantitative approach to spiritual realities. ¹⁵ We shall see that, up to a point, Karl Rahner adopts a number of the positions put forth by de la Taille. ¹⁶

Karl Rahner on the One Fruit and the Many Fruits

In 1949, Karl Rahner published an article entitled “Die vielen Messen und das eine Opfer.” ¹⁷ His conclusions, especially with regard to Eucharistic concelebration, led him into a disagreement with Pius XII. He responded with an article specifically on concelebration. ¹⁸ Then, immediately following the Second Vatican Council and in collaboration with the liturgical scholar Angelus Häussling, OSB, Rahner published a longer book on the subject of the frequency of Eucharistic celebration. ¹⁹ Building first on dogmatic principles dealing with the honor of God, the sacrifice of the cross, and the Eucharistic sacrifice, Rahner criticized what he called the “average view” among Catholic theologians—namely that a priest presiding daily (or as frequently as possible) is the ideal for the celebration of the Eucharist. He reaches a conclusion that is in line with Thomas Aquinas’s understanding of the relation between the effectiveness of a particular Mass and the devotion of the offerer(s). ²⁰ He proceeded to clarify what the Council of Trent had to say about the relation between the cross and the Eucharistic sacrifice by arguing that the “celebration of Mass does not produce any force for expiation and grace distinct from the sacrifice of the Cross itself.” ²¹

In the process, Rahner discusses two issues that lie at the heart of the present investigation: how the fruits of the Mass are limited and how the priest is related to the offering, the so-called fructus specialis and fructus specialissimus. As to the first of these issues, he insists that the fruits of the Mass are related only to the intentions of those who are actually involved in the celebration—by being present, including of course the priest, or by providing financial support. These benefits in return are related directly to the devotion of the offerers. Here Rahner follows the tradition established by Chrodegang, the Roman Synod of 853, Walafrid Strabo, the canon Non mediocriter, Praepositinus of Cremona, Thomas Aquinas, Cajetan, Juan de Lugo, and Gabriel Vasquez, all the way up to de la Taille. However, a good number of theologians disagreed with this approach on the basis of what I have referred to as dividing the pie. Rahner is following a venerable theological tradition but one that remarkably seems not to have affected canonical legislation, magisterial decisions, or popular practice with regard to how Mass intentions should be understood.

Rahner does not, however, completely abandon the notion of monetary offerings, for he insists that the priest, in accepting a stipend, obliges himself to offer solely for the intention of the donor (“if it were not, it could not be as intense”). Here he follows de la Taille with regard to honoring the intention of a person who provided sufficient support for the priest and the church: that is, subsidizing a day’s celebration of the Mass. ²² It seems to me that the common practice of the church, which includes the expectations of the donors, made it difficult to deal with the theological principle that there can be no inherent limitation on the benefits of the Mass other than the devotion of the church in general and that of the members of a particular offering assembly. Nevertheless, and very importantly for my argument here, he states that the priest’s application of an intention for a Mass cannot diminish the effect of the intentions of others who participate. ²³

We should note here that Rahner was rejecting papal pronouncements in the modern era that supported the position that the special benefit (fructus specialis) has special standing, in other words that somehow the application of a Mass for a specific intention had more worth or greater effect than that of those devotedly participating in the Eucharist and bringing their own intentions. Among these pronouncements was Pius VI’s condemnation of the (Enlightenment) Synod of Pistoia (1786). The Synod had denied that the priest could apply a particular intention to a Mass. ²⁴ Pius condemned that proposition with the constitution Auctorem Fidei of 1794 without giving a rationale, however. ²⁵ The position on the relation between priest and Eucharist that Rahner proposed in 1949 was also explicitly rejected by Pius XII in 1956 in an address to the Assisi Liturgical Congress, echoing an address Pius had given on the priesthood in 1954. ²⁶

What of the relation of the priest to the offering? Here Rahner departs sharply from the Scotist three-fold division of the fruits of the Mass. It is not that Rahner denies a fructus specialissimus altogether, but rather that, in line with modern Eucharistic theology and with a renewed communal appreciation of the Eucharistic action, he applies the notion of fructus specialissimus to all of the members assembled in addition to the priest. ²⁷ In theory, then, a good priest can gain as much by devoted attendance at the Eucharist as by presiding at it. Naturally, this has consequences with regard to a priest’s participation in concelebration as well as to the canon, which stipulates frequent if not daily celebration by the priest. ²⁸ To be sure, a priest assisting at the Eucharist in lieu of presiding or concelebrating is a sensitive issue and has to do with other considerations besides the application of the Mass intention—for example, the hierarchical ordering of the church. But with regard to the specific question of Mass intentions, it seems to me that if Rahner is correct (and I believe he is), priests could just as well pray for particular intentions when assisting at the liturgy as well as when they are presiding or concelebrating. Still, Rahner does not reject the practice of offering a number of Masses for the same intention, since multiple offerings of the Mass can demonstrate increased or more intense devotion. This position was to be adopted in 1991, as we shall see below.

We can also note here that all members of certain religious orders—for instance, the Jesuits—even those who are not ordained, are obliged to “offer” a number of Masses a month for certain varied intentions. Is that practice equivalent to that of a priest offering a Mass for a “first intention”? It seems to me that it is.

Mass Offerings (Stipends)

I have deferred the issue of monetary Mass offerings (commonly referred to as stipends) up to this point because I believe that the question of monetary offerings should be subsidiary to the theological (and pastoral) issues involved with Mass intentions in general. When one starts with monetary offerings, the need to support current practice seems so great that the deeper theological, pastoral, and spiritual questions fade into the background. It has been my thesis here that those issues require fresh examination.

The important shift in terminology from stipends to Mass offerings is little appreciated. The 1983 Code of Canon Law changed the terminology with great deliberation. Stipendium in Latin (used traditionally up to the 1917 Code of Canon Law) can mean payment or recompense, whereas the new word, stips, means (voluntary) offering. The shift is meant to emphasize the prevention of buying and selling Masses, or any other sacramental act for that matter. ²⁹

As we have seen above, support for the clergy by the church at large has been a time-honored custom. Offerings like food were given in the past for their sustenance, but gradually these material gifts were substituted with monetary offerings. Since that shift, which I have attributed partly to Germanization or the objectification of Christian worship, a great deal of caution against greed and simony has been exercised—of course with good reason. ³⁰ Simony has been recognized as a sin ever since Simon Magus attempted to buy spiritual power from the apostles (Acts 8:19–24).

Mass stipends, as Johann Auer remarked, were a “hallmark of medieval piety.” ³¹ It was far from uncommon to establish chantries (private chapels) or other means of bequests to have Mass said for one’s soul in Purgatory after death. People may no longer establish chantries, but that piety is still operative today. For example, as we noted above, in line with any number of theologians, Rahner agrees that it is reasonable to ask for one’s intention to be prayed for at many Eucharistic celebrations as it marks an increase in devotion. ³²

Is the amount of the offering relevant to the benefits received from the celebration of the Eucharist? As Peter Brown noted, the tradition of the rich buying themselves favor with God and with the dead by donating for prayers goes back to the early church. ³³ As the question of wealth was problematic for the early Christians, one way of dealing with that wealth was to be in solidarity with the poor by making offerings to them while alive and for them after they had died. The potential abuse of someone being able to gain advantage by the size of an offering or even multiplying offerings in a way that prevented others from having their offerings recognized should be obvious.

Perhaps the motive was simply a matter of more fervent piety, but I can remember a time when the (frequent) daily requiem Mass was either a low Mass, a high Mass (that is, sung by the priest alone), or a solemn high Mass (sung and with both deacon and subdeacon). The scale (and length) of the Mass corresponded to the amount of money that was offered. Fortunately, those days are past—at least among those who participate in the so-called Ordinary Form of the Mass.

With regard to monetary offerings, the Code of Canon Law of 1983 carried over many of the prescriptions of the Code of 1917. A major exception, however, was the addition of the fact that the faithful donors themselves benefit from the offerings they have made for others because they have participated in the Eucharistic celebration in a special way that marks their devotion. In other words, the 1983 Code makes explicit the idea that the offering does not benefit solely the (usually deceased) person for whom an offering has been made. ³⁴ Implicitly, at least, this marks the recognition of the importance of devotion underlined by Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, and Karl Rahner, among others.

As we have seen above, as a safeguard against simony and abuses, the 1983 Code restricts the priest from accepting for himself more than one monetary offering per day (with the exception of Christmas). This includes priests who concelebrate after they have presided over a Eucharist at another time in the day. If a priest applies an intention for which a monetary offering has been made—either by binating (presiding at two Masses) or concelebrating—he must “transfer the others to the purposes prescribed by the ordinary.” ³⁵

A further canonical question with regard to accepting several Mass intentions was dealt with in a “Decree on Collective Mass Intentions” (Mos Iugiter) by the Vatican Congregation for the Clergy in 1991. ³⁶ The decree acknowledges the usefulness of the practice of combining intentions in “depressed regions” where a single monetary offering might not contribute adequately to the sustenance of a priest, but it also warns against the abuse of an “obligation in justice” toward those who believe they are making an offering for a specific intention at one Mass. One can easily detect the difficulties here with regard to the theology we are developing in this article. The sole focus of the decree is on the priest’s intention. (I am leaving aside here the question of whether donors would regard their donation as having been satisfied when a priest concelebrates rather than presides at the Eucharist, as this has to do with the expectations of the faithful, not the law of the church.) On the one hand, Article 1 of Mos Iugiter iterates the necessity of applying a single intention ex iustitia that has been made for a Mass. On the other hand, Article 2 allows for intentions to be combined as long as those who are making the offerings have been duly notified and are willing. Combining intentions in this way may not be done more than twice a week. There is a fear expressed here: “wherever the practice [of collective intentions] spreads excessively, also on the basis of erroneous ideas of the meanings of offerings for Masses, it must be considered an abuse which could progressively lead to the faithful’s discontinuation of the practice of giving offerings for the celebration of Masses for individual intentions, thus causing the loss of a most ancient practice which is salutary for individual souls and the whole Church.” ³⁷

The Congregation seems to have prioritized the matter of the economic support of priests and the possible abuses involved with monetary offerings before the theological issues related to Mass intentions that I have argued are primary and preliminary. And, most recently, the Congregation for the Clergy issued an instruction to parishes that again takes up the issue of Mass offerings and repeats that they have nothing to do with a “price to pay” or a “fee to exact.” The Congregation proceeds to make the welcome suggestion that “one might think of receiving offerings in an anonymous way, so that everyone feels free to donate what they can, or what they think is just, without feeling an obligation to respond to an expectation or a price.” ³⁸

Although it is quite true, as we have noted several times, that Masses have been offered for specific intentions from a very early period, it is not at all the case that offerings for specific intentions were understood to be exclusive. ³⁹ We shall return to this issue in the concluding section of this article.

John Huels began an article on stipends and the current code of canon law with a question he asked of his students: “What am I getting for my money?” ⁴⁰ The answer, of course, is that the giving of alms while asking the church (in the person of the Christ) to pray for an intention is not a commercial transaction, but by receiving the money the church/priest is morally bound to remember this person and his or her intention. I am not denying that, as long as the current Canon Law remains in force, the priest is obligated in justice to offer the Eucharist for the intentions of a donor. I think it is feasible, however, even if difficult, to separate the just economic support of the priest from money offered for Mass intentions. After all, the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus forbade taking money for spiritual services, and this was not abrogated until early in the twentieth century. ⁴¹

Should the current practice continue, there is, at the very least, a need for a massive catechetical–pastoral effort to (re)insure that people who make Mass offerings know that they are completely free-will donations of alms that signify their desire to have the whole church pray for their specific intention. ⁴² Edward Kilmartin sums up the present situation with regard to Mass offerings nicely:

In short, the official teaching of the Roman magisterium on the subject of the theology and practice of Mass stipends can serve as one example of what is true of practically every aspect of official teaching concerning the theology of the Eucharist in this period of renewal of doctrine and practice. By placing what is new alongside what is old, the magisterium poses a challenge to theologians to strive to attain a newer and higher synthesis of theory and practice. ⁴³

Theological Considerations

Throughout this article, I have attempted to describe and analyze the enormous complexity of the question of Mass intentions. As we have seen, a number of historical developments have contributed to the exclusive practice that we still know today and that we have known basically since the thirteenth century. I also have noted that, as with many theological issues, the theology of Mass intentions has been practice-driven. That is not necessarily bad, as it is the very nature of theology to respond to social and cultural developments. Liturgical theologians are fond, after all, of repeating the axiom: lex orandi, lex credendi (the rule of prayer is intimately related to the rule of faith). ⁴⁴ Respecting that axiom need not mean that every liturgical development is to be retained. Some have argued that criticizing later practices by appealing to earlier ones is an exercise in antiquarianism. But it is not antiquarianism to recognize that there have been cultural shifts that unfortunately obscured some very important elements of the faith and piety of the early church. In the course of a previous article, I tried to show that the process of inculturating Christianity north of the Alps (Germanization) exacerbated the loss of the sense of the church as offering the Eucharist corporately. This led to an imbalance with regard to the role of the priest in the Mass.

The Constitution on the Liturgy of Vatican II (and the subsequent liturgical reform) clearly intended to correct this imbalance. But for any number of reasons, the Council was not able to provide a coherent and consistent theology of the ordained priesthood that corresponded to its liturgical advances. The Council’s “Decree on the Ministry and Life of Priests” (Presbyterorum Ordinis) was the last document to be voted on, and many agree was rather hastily put together. ⁴⁵ As a result, of all theological subjects, it is perhaps the theology of ordained ministry that remains most in flux—and not simply because of the clerical sex-abuse crisis.

Among the important themes of the liturgy constitution, one of the most prominent was the insistence on full, active, and conscious participation by all of the baptized in liturgical celebrations. ⁴⁶ The document recognized the hierarchical or ordered nature of the church including the priest (minister) as one of the four modes of Christ’s real presence in the Eucharist. ⁴⁷ At the same time, the Constitution insisted on the fundamentally communal character of the liturgy. ⁴⁸ The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium) affirms that there is a difference between the ordained and lay members of the church not only in degree but in essence. ⁴⁹ It does so without elaboration. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, however, describes this difference in terms of the ministerial priesthood at the service of the baptized. ⁵⁰ Thus it seems to me that even the sacramental role of the priests must always be understood in the context of the entire People of God at worship.

The difficulty of relating priest and people in the offering of the Eucharistic sacrifice in Lumen Gentium lies in its repetition of the line taken by Pius XII in Mediator Dei: “Taking part in the Eucharistic sacrifice, which is the fount and apex of the whole Christian life, they offer the Divine Victim to God, and offer themselves along with it. Thus, both by reason of the offering and through Holy Communion all take part in this liturgical service, not indeed, all in the same way but each in that way which is proper to himself.” But, at the same time, Pius wrote that the lay people “offer the sacrifice in their own way.” ⁵¹ He based his argument on the fact that “the consecration,” namely the Lord’s words of institution, takes place because the priest is acting in the person of Christ (in persona Christi). ⁵² As we shall see below, the use of in persona Christi is highly charged. More recent magisterial documents have clarified it by adding capitis. In other words, the priest is acting in the person of Christ as a representative of Christ the head. ⁵³ To be sure, the distinct roles of the ordained and the baptized have been reiterated by the Catholic magisterium throughout the post-Vatican period. ⁵⁴ The notion of a moment of consecration, however, needs further reflection in light of modern historical research and Eucharistic theology.

I believe that it is safe to say that the Catholic tradition affirms the necessity for a priest (presbyter or bishop) to preside at the Eucharist. But precisely how to differentiate the roles of the priest and the rest of the assembly is not so easy to articulate. One of the better efforts to do this is by Edward Hahnenberg, who attempts to place an understanding of the ministerial office in the context of Edward Kilmartin’s larger project. Kilmartin, Hahnenberg argues, re-evaluated the shift to a “consecration theology” of the Eucharist that highlighted the priest from the twelfth century onward. In its place, Kilmartin argued for an understanding of Eucharistic sacrifice centered on the community’s memory (anamnesis) of the Christ-event powered by the Holy Spirit. ⁵⁵ Such an understanding contextualized the essential role of the priest within the action of the whole church, head and members.

Ever since the twelfth century, the Catholic Church has been “stuck” in confining the consecratory formula of the Eucharistic prayer to the Lord’s words of institution—so much so that it usually is referred to as “the consecration.” Even the rubrics of the Roman Missal emphasize this with larger print and directions for the priest to take the bread, and so forth, and to pronounce the words with great deliberation. By a long tradition, however, in the Christian East the epiclesis or invocation of the Holy Spirit was the focal point of consecration. ⁵⁶ Today, many Catholic sacramental or liturgical theologians would argue that isolating a moment of change within the Eucharistic prayer is mistaken and that the entire prayer is consecratory. ⁵⁷

To this point, a landmark statement by the Pontifical Council of Christian Unity in 2002 declared that the main Eucharistic prayer of the Assyrian Church (or Church of the East), which split from the rest of the church in the fifth century, is a “valid” prayer even though it contains no explicit narrative of institution, that is, the words of the Lord. ⁵⁸ Instead, the declaration asserts, the Lord’s words are to be found in a “dispersed way” in this prayer—that is to say, the institution is referred to when the prayer says that it is acting in obedience to the Lord’s command. Moreover, contemporary liturgical scholars have argued that we cannot be certain that any of the Eucharistic prayers that have been preserved for the first three centuries contained an institution narrative as such. ⁵⁹

I have lingered on this issue because it has profound consequences for our understanding of the role of the priest in the Eucharist. As Edward Kilmartin argues, if he acts in persona Christi in pronouncing the Lord’s words of institution, it is because he first acts in persona ecclesiae. This is the case because the institution narrative is encased within the church’s prayer (“We give thanks . . . we offer”). ⁶⁰ Therefore, the institution narrative acts not so much as a consecratory formula as it does a warrant and description of why we do what we do in the Eucharist. This argument is, to say the least, a significant change with regard to 800 years of Western sacramental theology. ⁶¹ Contextualizing the words of institution within the Eucharistic prayer as a whole also requires a re-thinking of most of the traditional theories of Eucharistic sacrifice and the role of the priest in this sacrifice. ⁶² The double-consecration of the bread and the wine as the body and blood of Christ was the most commonly held theory with regard to the representation of Christ’s sacrifice. It was repeated by Pius XII. ⁶³ If it is no longer correct to regard the institution narrative in the Eucharistic prayer as words of consecration, then the theology of the priest “performing” the sacrifice in this way also needs to go.

On the practical level, a consequence of this re-reading of the role of the institution narrative and its relation to the priest’s role in offering the Eucharistic sacrifice is that phrases such as “I am offering this Mass for” are misleading, as they considerably weaken the contemporary Catholic understanding of the communal nature of the liturgy. ⁶⁴ Thus, as Kilmartin concludes, “it is imprecise, theologically speaking, for a priest to promise to offer Mass ‘first intention’ for this or that person. This language implies what has now become theologically questionable, namely that the priest has control over blessings derived from the Mass.” ⁶⁵

In addition to the problem of considering the priest as consecrator because he repeats a specific formula, a further sign of an unfortunate shift in the relation between priest and Eucharist has already been noted in my previous article, that is, offertory prayers by the priest with “I offer” which appeared as early as the eighth century. ⁶⁶ This development went hand in hand with the disappearance of the offertory procession (North of the Alps) and the collection of the gifts (in the rite of the city of Rome). Today, with the restoration of the procession of the gifts, now called “the presentation of the gifts and preparation of the altar,” the “I offer” prayers have become obsolete. ⁶⁷ Restoring the procession of gifts by the people is another element of the lex orandi of the reformed rite of the Mass that should discourage a theology that makes the offering by the priest distinct from that of the assembly. As Kilmartin has written, “the offertory procession is a symbolic expression of the integration of the donor into the prayer of the sacrifice of praise that the priest pronounces in the name of all. It signifies the real co-offering of the participants on the level of the Eucharistic rite.” ⁶⁸

Moreover, the restoration of the prayers of the faithful (or “universal prayer”) re-emphasizes what has always been the case theologically—that the Eucharist as the re-presentation of the sacrifice of the Cross is offered primarily for the salvation of the world. ⁶⁹ Within this universal prayer, it is customary to mention the names of those who have died recently in addition to the intention of the person who asked specifically that his or her intention be honored at the Eucharist. Thus, the reformed Roman Rite liturgy can be interpreted as supporting the theology of Mass intentions that had been proposed by de la Taille, Rahner, and others. ⁷⁰

The crucial question facing us with regard to Mass intentions, then, is whether or not there is such a thing as a special benefit or fructus specialis associated with any particular celebration of the Eucharist on the basis of an “application” by the priest. In my opinion, the answer is “no”. Rahner’s solution continues to be the most persuasive. Dividing up the fruits of the Mass has no real theological warrant. One could, however, understand the notion of the priest applying an intention to his acting as a representative of the local assembled church which might be asked to pray in common for this or that intention. I am told that in some Hispanic parishes many people bring envelopes to the Sunday Mass, and all of their intentions are mentioned before the Eucharist begins. This, I think, is a fine alternative to imagining that the effects of the Mass are like cutting up larger and smaller pieces of pie.

At the same time, I am not arguing that we should abandon the idea of Mass intentions completely. One can argue reasonably on the basis of the church’s continuous tradition of praying for the dead that our impetration or pleading to God on behalf of the dead is effective in God’s sight on the basis of our devotion, or what I have termed commitment. The problem, I repeat, is the idea of considering the effectiveness of the Eucharist in terms of dividing a pie. In this vein, Johann Auer refers to the traditional (Scotist) way of dividing up the fruits of the Mass as “objectivizing, even materializing.” ⁷¹ And, as Bill Cosgrove summarized nicely, “what then is one to say about the benefits for the intention for which the Mass is offered? There is no mention of such benefits in the official documents of recent years. This may be taken to indicate a definitive abandonment of the medieval theory of the fruits of the Mass and how they were said to be divided.” ⁷²

Throughout this article and a preceding one, I have made a good deal of the notion of Germanization of Christian culture and especially of the liturgy in the Early Middle Ages. The tendency toward objectivization, I noted, was problematic and unfortunate. In the modern period, that tendency toward objectification has been exacerbated, at least in economically advanced countries, by a culture of commodification or consumerism. That danger is evidenced sometimes by the way that many people seem to regard receiving Holy Communion as a right to have something as opposed to the essentially communal or horizontal nature of union in the Lord. ⁷³ In a similar fashion, persistence of questions like, “How much does it cost to have a Mass said?” or “How much is a Mass card?” reveals just how commodified our sacramental life has become. As I noted above, more serious attention to the recovery of the Prayer of the Faithful can be an antidote to this commodified approach to the Eucharist.

Another factor in achieving a more theologically and pastorally appropriate solution to the question of Mass intentions has to do with Sunday (and Saturday vigil) celebrations. At present, canon law requires that each pastor “apply a Mass for the people on each Sunday and holy day of obligation in his diocese.” ⁷⁴ Therefore, a single Mass is normally set aside as pro populo in each parish. The reason for this is obvious: Sunday and holy day celebrations of the community are essentially communal. But since multiple Masses are celebrated in parishes on Sundays, it has become common for the other Masses to have a named intention, often mentioned in the Prayer of the Faithful, before the liturgy begins, or even by the priest himself in the eucharistic prayer. Even though the Eucharist is always the Eucharist, there is a major difference between weekday celebrations, which originally might have been termed “votive” or “private” Masses, and the gathering of the entire community on a Sunday or holy day. This much was recognized by Pope Benedict XIV (1740–1758), who prohibited accepting stipends for Sunday Masses. ⁷⁵

The lack of an obvious and understood distinction between the Sunday and the weekday liturgies can cause people to ask, “I don’t see why I have to go on Sunday when I can get so much more out of a weekday Mass,” providing another good example of the consumeristic approach that our culture encourages with regard to liturgy. To that extent, the post-Vatican II liturgical reform has failed to help Catholics realize that the liturgy is not primarily about “what I can get out of it.” This difficulty is, of course, part of a much larger picture—the failure of almost sixty years of liturgical reform to instill a truly communal understanding of Catholic worship. ⁷⁶ No doubt, as with the case of “stipends” in general, the elimination of individual intentions on Sundays and holy days would require a great deal of preparation and catechesis, not to mention economic adjustment with regard to the just and equitable support of the clergy. Although challenging, this should not be impossible.

This article is not a proposal to do away with individual Mass intentions entirely. Asking priests to direct the assembly’s intentions at a particular Eucharistic celebration is entirely reasonable (and traditional)—as in, “we have all been asked to pray today for . . . .” Such intercession does have a value, which Kilmartin articulated nicely: “This conviction of faith is ultimately grounded on the notion that in this economy of salvation, God the Father has determined himself to be moved by the response of the love of human beings for him and for all his children, a love which is instilled in them by the Holy Spirit.” ⁷⁷ In this way a whole community (gathered on a weekday) can pray in a special way for a common intention. Such a practice makes great sense when there is a commonly perceived need, such as the illness of a fellow community member or the anniversary of someone who has died, and especially when that person’s family and friends are actively participating in the celebration.

The precise effect of a Mass intention is, of course, impossible to define. The only real measure or standard we possess is our devotion in offering our prayers. The rest is up to God.

Conclusion

This article and its predecessor have traced a long path through history and theology to demonstrate just how complex the issue of Mass intentions combined with monetary offerings remains. By way of summary, we can say that, from the earliest days of the church, Christians have associated offerings with the Eucharist, but the entire gathered assembly was considered to be the offerer (with Christ), and so offerings were associated with a corporate body of worshipers. The corporate nature of offering is witnessed by the plural “we” of eucharistic prayers. And from at least the third century, they have celebrated the Eucharist at the graves of their beloved dead and for other specific reasons. In addition, from as early as the New Testament, Christians have supported the church. This support included the clergy who serve the church.

The idea that any Mass could be offered exclusively for the intention of a donor departs from the practice of the early church and is in part due to the process of Germanization that took place in the early Middle Ages. We have called this practice cutting up the pie. A similar development took place with regard to the priest as the chief offerer of the Mass distinct from the faithful who participated in it, instead of the priest acting in the name of the church. It was in the Early Middle Ages that offertory prayers, which have the priest using the singular “I,” entered into the liturgy. Related to this is the multiplication of Masses and priests, especially in monasteries. These priests were deputed to celebrate “private Masses” for particular intentions. But historically a significant number of theologians have held that the Mass could be offered for many intentions at the same time.

From Thomas Aquinas forward, a large number of theologians have held that the benefits (fruits) of the Mass are dependent on the all-sufficient sacrifice of Christ (unlimited benefit) and on the devotion of the faithful including the priest. Naturally, the devotion of both priest and people is limited. Duns Scotus’s three-fold division of the so-called fruits of the Mass rests not on a theological basis but on the development of practice.

In addition, in light of the recovery of the Universal Prayer of the Faithful and of the offertory procession, the question of limiting intentions for any particular Mass must be reconsidered. Therefore, even though a Eucharistic assembly under the leadership of the priest may be praying for a particular intention, for instance at a funeral, a wedding, or an anniversary, it is inappropriate to give the impression that the particular intention somehow trumps other intentions of the assembled, for example, someone present who is praying for a deceased family member. This suggests that every Sunday Eucharist be celebrated pro populo, for the entire church, and that Masses where particular intentions are announced should be reserved to weekdays.

The associated practice of monetary offerings, which are entirely free-will (despite the duty of the members of the church to support it and its ministers), needs to be re-thought in light of the preceding. This would require a massive effort at catechesis and clarification of the church’s practice. It is inappropriate and misleading for a priest to state, “I am offering this Mass for . . . .” An alternative would be for an intention to be included in the Universal Prayer to the effect that “today we are remembering in a special way N. [or NN.]”

I began with the contention that the issue of Mass intentions has faded from view in much of the Eucharistic theology that has been written since the Second Vatican Council. There are probably several reasons for this. For one, theologians may have considered the question closed after Rahner’s magisterial essay and book on the subject of the multiplication of Masses. Or perhaps, as is often the case with theology, the most pressing concerns (for example, the nature of Eucharistic presence or the meaning of Eucharistic sacrifice) get more attention than others. Perhaps even the difficulty in constructing a coherent theology of Eucharist together with ministerial priesthood and with the insights provided by a truly communal appreciation of the liturgy until now has proved to be too daunting. The correct answer is probably some combination of all of these factors. Whatever the case may be, it is my hope that re-opening this question will lead to changes in practice and understanding in accord with the best theological insights of our times. ⁷⁸