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One Ordinary Sunday: A Meditation on the Mystery of the Mass
Winner of the 2017 Association of Catholic Publishers Excellence in Publishing General Interest Books (First Place) and the Catholic Press Association Book Popular Presentation of the Catholic Faith (First Place).
The popular, award-winning writer Paula Huston draws on her spiritual wisdom and her talent as a novelist to provide both moment-by-moment record of her experience of one particular Mass on one particular Sunday in her home parish in California and a theologically and historically rich exploration of the origin and meaning of the liturgy.
For Catholics, the Mass is the "source and summit of the Christian life," as the documents of the Church put it. Yet many Catholics might confess to not understand in any depth what goes on in an "ordinary" celebration of the Eucharist. In perhaps her most compelling and original book to date, novelist and spiritual writer Paula Huston guides us through a Mass on the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time at her home parish in Arroyo Grande, California. Huston's personal and spiritual reflections offer fresh and often unexpected insights into the profound mystery at the heart of the Catholic faith.
A natural storyteller, Huston deftly illuminates what might seem either mysterious to those unfamiliar with the Mass or overly familiar to those who have lost an appreciation of its mystery. In the Mass "we are healed and restored and spiritually fed," she writes. "We are handed strong armor against evil. We are unified and made whole as a people and as a Church. We get a little taste of heaven."
Readers of this book will learn
This is a book for all Catholics, especially those who have questions about the basic practices of their faith, who are new to the Church and still somewhat baffled about its rituals of worship, or who have left the Church behind but still feel like part of the family.
The popular, award-winning writer Paula Huston draws on her spiritual wisdom and her talent as a novelist to provide both moment-by-moment record of her experience of one particular Mass on one particular Sunday in her home parish in California and a theologically and historically rich exploration of the origin and meaning of the liturgy.
For Catholics, the Mass is the "source and summit of the Christian life," as the documents of the Church put it. Yet many Catholics might confess to not understand in any depth what goes on in an "ordinary" celebration of the Eucharist. In perhaps her most compelling and original book to date, novelist and spiritual writer Paula Huston guides us through a Mass on the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time at her home parish in Arroyo Grande, California. Huston's personal and spiritual reflections offer fresh and often unexpected insights into the profound mystery at the heart of the Catholic faith.
A natural storyteller, Huston deftly illuminates what might seem either mysterious to those unfamiliar with the Mass or overly familiar to those who have lost an appreciation of its mystery. In the Mass "we are healed and restored and spiritually fed," she writes. "We are handed strong armor against evil. We are unified and made whole as a people and as a Church. We get a little taste of heaven."
Readers of this book will learn
This is a book for all Catholics, especially those who have questions about the basic practices of their faith, who are new to the Church and still somewhat baffled about its rituals of worship, or who have left the Church behind but still feel like part of the family.
- GenresCatholic
232 pages, Paperback
First published March 11, 2016
9 people are currently reading
51 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
November 3, 2017
One Ordinary Sunday by Paula Huston is tagged A Meditation on the Mystery of the Mass. That is three "M" words that raise red flags for many Protestants. I have always been curious about the difference between how Protestants celebrate Holy Communion and how Catholics celebrate the Eucharist. Paula Huston does an excellent job of walking non-Catholics through the components of the Mass. Read this book, and you might feel less intimidated about accompanying a friend or neighbor to a Catholic Mass.
Huston personalizes this record of experience with anecdotes of her trepidation. Raised a Lutheran, she embraced atheism before being drawn, body and soul, to the ancient traditions that form the core of Catholicism. She masterfully explains what is possibly the most misunderstood and off-putting practice in the Catholic church, transubstantiation. Also, without judgment, she helps readers understand the essential differences between the Protestant and Catholic practices. I came away believing it is the same faith but a different emphasis. Indeed, a different culture.
I have always loved the role of mystery in the Catholic and Orthodox churches. Huston defines mystery as the "invisible realities beyond the physical." I also noted her discovery of the value of story: "...unless a story point[s] to something beyond the sum of its own physical details, it might be entertaining but it [will] never be great." It seems to me that these two statements describe the cleaver that separates the believer from the non-believer.
This book led me to ponder the Protestant emphasis on fellowship and the Catholic emphasis on unity. Style or substance? On a personal note, my mother once said to me, "I wish I could attend a service that blended Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant worship." Her wish was heartfelt. The three traditions were at war within in her. I wish that too, Mom.
Huston personalizes this record of experience with anecdotes of her trepidation. Raised a Lutheran, she embraced atheism before being drawn, body and soul, to the ancient traditions that form the core of Catholicism. She masterfully explains what is possibly the most misunderstood and off-putting practice in the Catholic church, transubstantiation. Also, without judgment, she helps readers understand the essential differences between the Protestant and Catholic practices. I came away believing it is the same faith but a different emphasis. Indeed, a different culture.
I have always loved the role of mystery in the Catholic and Orthodox churches. Huston defines mystery as the "invisible realities beyond the physical." I also noted her discovery of the value of story: "...unless a story point[s] to something beyond the sum of its own physical details, it might be entertaining but it [will] never be great." It seems to me that these two statements describe the cleaver that separates the believer from the non-believer.
This book led me to ponder the Protestant emphasis on fellowship and the Catholic emphasis on unity. Style or substance? On a personal note, my mother once said to me, "I wish I could attend a service that blended Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant worship." Her wish was heartfelt. The three traditions were at war within in her. I wish that too, Mom.
July 28, 2016
Though there are many who testify to the ways worship can become overfamiliar and flat, others, like Paula Huston, occasionally rise up to remind us of how liturgy forms and teaches us, often by dint of their sheer beauty and dignity. An adult convert to Catholicism Huston offers readers an insider’s intimate, appreciative view of the Mass. The book is a piece of spiritual autobiography that invites us to join her in Mass on “an ordinary Sunday" and offers both explanation of the parts of the Mass and personal reflections on the importance of each of those parts. She includes affectionate comment on members of the community in the local church she has come to love, and on how the Mass binds members together in a closeness that runs deeper than human ties.
For Catholic readers, this book offers a beautiful re-introduction to faith For non-Catholic readers it offers a hospitable invitation to visit spiritual neighbors who have too often been estranged. It offers all readers encouragement to explore their own spiritual journeys with similar lively curiosity, candor and gratitude.
For Catholic readers, this book offers a beautiful re-introduction to faith For non-Catholic readers it offers a hospitable invitation to visit spiritual neighbors who have too often been estranged. It offers all readers encouragement to explore their own spiritual journeys with similar lively curiosity, candor and gratitude.
January 5, 2024
Many church going Catholics find themselves saying the prayers, going through the rituals, kneeling and standing and bowing, without any thought behind the actions other than "because I've always done it". Many books have been written about the biblical essence of the mass, but this one is a little different.
Rather than a lot of insight into the orgins, the author describes each action. Less on the why we do the sign of peace, but describes how it's happening and how it relates to everyday life.
A solid read that is staying on the keep shelf.
Rather than a lot of insight into the orgins, the author describes each action. Less on the why we do the sign of peace, but describes how it's happening and how it relates to everyday life.
A solid read that is staying on the keep shelf.
June 5, 2020
5 stars for the 1st half of the book
April 23, 2016
First of all, this book has so much in it. It isn’t really that big of a book, but One Ordinary Sunday has so much content! It is rather amazing how it all fits together. So much is covered in the context on one Sunday Mass in Ordinary Time.
The book is divided similarly to the parts of the Mass with the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Paula Huston gives a brief overview of every part of the Mass. This is far more than just a book about the Mass, though. Huston takes this further when she goes into the symbolism beneath what happens in the Mass such as the vestments and the actual prayers of the Mass.
One Ordinary Sunday touches briefly on almost everything you need to know about the Catholic Church. There is talk of monastic life, the Trinity, Theotokos, the Mystical Body, the Communion of Saints, annulment, the historicity of the Mass, the Real Presence, and so much more. There is a defense of the priesthood and an explanation of why not ordaining women is a good thing.
There are connections made to heresies of the early Church, the Jewish pattern of worship, the pre-Vatican II Mass, and the existence of the Eucharistic celebration in the Acts of the Apostles. There is mention of the origins of the Creed and the Sanctus as well as RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, for those who don’t know).
I thoroughly enjoyed One Ordinary Sunday as we heard not only mention of necessary theological points but also Huston’s own thoughts on the Mass that day. Her own observance of the reverence shown to the Eucharist is part of what led her to the Catholic Church and now she has the reverence in abundance.
This meditation on an ordinary Sunday Mass somehow transcends the ordinary and gives a glimpse of what the Catholic Church is really made up of: ordinary individuals striving to become the saints we were created to be. This was a wonderful read and, as far as I can tell, something necessary to our current time where the reverence and the history of the Mass are being forgotten.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley for review consideration. This in no way affects my opinion of the title nor the content of this review.
This review first appeared at Orandi et Legendi.
The book is divided similarly to the parts of the Mass with the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Paula Huston gives a brief overview of every part of the Mass. This is far more than just a book about the Mass, though. Huston takes this further when she goes into the symbolism beneath what happens in the Mass such as the vestments and the actual prayers of the Mass.
One Ordinary Sunday touches briefly on almost everything you need to know about the Catholic Church. There is talk of monastic life, the Trinity, Theotokos, the Mystical Body, the Communion of Saints, annulment, the historicity of the Mass, the Real Presence, and so much more. There is a defense of the priesthood and an explanation of why not ordaining women is a good thing.
There are connections made to heresies of the early Church, the Jewish pattern of worship, the pre-Vatican II Mass, and the existence of the Eucharistic celebration in the Acts of the Apostles. There is mention of the origins of the Creed and the Sanctus as well as RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, for those who don’t know).
I thoroughly enjoyed One Ordinary Sunday as we heard not only mention of necessary theological points but also Huston’s own thoughts on the Mass that day. Her own observance of the reverence shown to the Eucharist is part of what led her to the Catholic Church and now she has the reverence in abundance.
This meditation on an ordinary Sunday Mass somehow transcends the ordinary and gives a glimpse of what the Catholic Church is really made up of: ordinary individuals striving to become the saints we were created to be. This was a wonderful read and, as far as I can tell, something necessary to our current time where the reverence and the history of the Mass are being forgotten.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley for review consideration. This in no way affects my opinion of the title nor the content of this review.
This review first appeared at Orandi et Legendi.
November 8, 2016
Whatever Christian tradition you are in, Huston's walk through a Sunday service is inspiring and informative. She skillfully blends the historical and theological with the personal and experiential truths of the Eucharistic feast.
May 28, 2016
This book brought new life into my practice of being at mass.
February 18, 2018
"In church, he has the face of a man who has just awakened all over again to a new reality. . . . seeing that just-hatched-baby-chick expresssion on his face week after week is empirical evidence to me that something profound and mysterious and transformative really is going on here" (35).
"The word alleluia itself is derived from the Hebrew Hallelu Jah, which means "Praise ye, Ya." Ya is a shortened version of Yahweh, one of the oldest names for God. In ancient Hebrew times, it was spoken out loud only by priests and only on special occasions. The Alleluia announces the high point of the Liturgy of the Word--the Gospel reading--and it is a way for the congregation to greet Yahweh-the-Lord with thanksgiving, joy, and a cry of triumph" (71).
"The Alleluia of today is a simpler thing than it was during the heydey of troping. The 'Celtic Alleluia' in particular which was originally composed by a twentieth-century Irish composer named Fintan O'Carroll and later rearranged by Christopher Walker, harkens back to village processions and the slapping of farmers' boots on muddy roads. There's an arm-swinging rhythm to it....there is no happier music in all of the Mass than the 'Celtic Alleluia" (73).
"The word homily is derived from the Greek word homilia, meaning 'to have communion or hold intercourse with a person'" (82).
"Perhaps, I thnk, that is Catholic homilies--so brief and informal compared to the weighty sermons I heard as a Lutheran child--are meant to do. Not so much to teach the Bible as to throw swinging bridges between the readings for the day. . . an invitation to go deeper into the mysterious realms of the heart . . . to herald what is coming next: the great sacrifice and celebration of the Eucharist" (87-88).
"Orthodox Christians employ a beautiful word--pneumataphore--to describe the holiest of their elders, those so pure of heart they've become healers and sometimes even miracle workers. The term means 'spirit bearer" (131).
"Saint Cyril explains, 'It is as if the priest instructs us at this hour to dismiss all physical cares and domestic anxieties, and to have our hearts in heaven with the benevolent God.' But the truth is I don't know exactly what 'lift up your hearts' means--only whether or not I have done it, because if I have, I am often flooded with a warm, liquid love and an overwhelming sense of surety that this staggering world can be redeemed no matter how dire it looks at the moment" (134).
"With this chant...we are echoing an important Jewish synagogue rite: the recitation of the Kiddush, or rite of sanctification, which follows the unrolling and reading of the scriptural scrolls. The Kiddush includes both the praise of the cherubim as recorded in Ezekiel 3 and the song of the mighty angels that is described in the vision of the prophet Isaiah. Theologian Louis Bouyer believes that the use of these 'heavenly canticles' goes straight back to Temple times, and had in fact probably 'been a central feature of the offering of the sacrifice of incense morning and evening of every day'" (140).
"That is both the frustration and the glory of marriage. There is a private part of the self that is not readable, even by the person we love most and sometimes not even by ourselves. Kierkegaard, that lonely Danish Lutheran, believed that faith is housed in this intensely private part of us and cannot be conveyed to others. Our secret relationship with God is ours alone" (152).
"The word alleluia itself is derived from the Hebrew Hallelu Jah, which means "Praise ye, Ya." Ya is a shortened version of Yahweh, one of the oldest names for God. In ancient Hebrew times, it was spoken out loud only by priests and only on special occasions. The Alleluia announces the high point of the Liturgy of the Word--the Gospel reading--and it is a way for the congregation to greet Yahweh-the-Lord with thanksgiving, joy, and a cry of triumph" (71).
"The Alleluia of today is a simpler thing than it was during the heydey of troping. The 'Celtic Alleluia' in particular which was originally composed by a twentieth-century Irish composer named Fintan O'Carroll and later rearranged by Christopher Walker, harkens back to village processions and the slapping of farmers' boots on muddy roads. There's an arm-swinging rhythm to it....there is no happier music in all of the Mass than the 'Celtic Alleluia" (73).
"The word homily is derived from the Greek word homilia, meaning 'to have communion or hold intercourse with a person'" (82).
"Perhaps, I thnk, that is Catholic homilies--so brief and informal compared to the weighty sermons I heard as a Lutheran child--are meant to do. Not so much to teach the Bible as to throw swinging bridges between the readings for the day. . . an invitation to go deeper into the mysterious realms of the heart . . . to herald what is coming next: the great sacrifice and celebration of the Eucharist" (87-88).
"Orthodox Christians employ a beautiful word--pneumataphore--to describe the holiest of their elders, those so pure of heart they've become healers and sometimes even miracle workers. The term means 'spirit bearer" (131).
"Saint Cyril explains, 'It is as if the priest instructs us at this hour to dismiss all physical cares and domestic anxieties, and to have our hearts in heaven with the benevolent God.' But the truth is I don't know exactly what 'lift up your hearts' means--only whether or not I have done it, because if I have, I am often flooded with a warm, liquid love and an overwhelming sense of surety that this staggering world can be redeemed no matter how dire it looks at the moment" (134).
"With this chant...we are echoing an important Jewish synagogue rite: the recitation of the Kiddush, or rite of sanctification, which follows the unrolling and reading of the scriptural scrolls. The Kiddush includes both the praise of the cherubim as recorded in Ezekiel 3 and the song of the mighty angels that is described in the vision of the prophet Isaiah. Theologian Louis Bouyer believes that the use of these 'heavenly canticles' goes straight back to Temple times, and had in fact probably 'been a central feature of the offering of the sacrifice of incense morning and evening of every day'" (140).
"That is both the frustration and the glory of marriage. There is a private part of the self that is not readable, even by the person we love most and sometimes not even by ourselves. Kierkegaard, that lonely Danish Lutheran, believed that faith is housed in this intensely private part of us and cannot be conveyed to others. Our secret relationship with God is ours alone" (152).
April 10, 2017
Mass Appeal
This is a very Catholic book, though if you are a non-Catholic who is wondering what those crazy Catholics do during Mass, it will help you as well. It is a very personal and charming first person account of an ordinary mass in ordinary time. The author explains in a colloquial manner, the meanings of the different parts of the mass. She even throws a bit of Latin around. And she uses her personal life experience to connect with the liturgy.
All in all a very fair and very respectful representation of what Catholics do every Sunday. Recommended.
This is a very Catholic book, though if you are a non-Catholic who is wondering what those crazy Catholics do during Mass, it will help you as well. It is a very personal and charming first person account of an ordinary mass in ordinary time. The author explains in a colloquial manner, the meanings of the different parts of the mass. She even throws a bit of Latin around. And she uses her personal life experience to connect with the liturgy.
All in all a very fair and very respectful representation of what Catholics do every Sunday. Recommended.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews