Liturgy Corner
October 11, 2026
Votive Candles
Since Father Edward and I arrived in June, several parishioners and guests have asked about the possibility of having votive candles in the church. After discussing this possibility with the parish staff and reviewing possible locations, we have moved the historic shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Help to the former parish baptistry (the space leading to the chapel). We will also be adding a new votive candle rack near the icon of Saint Joseph at the front of the church. These candles are more than a beautiful addition to our devotional spaces. They give visible expression to the prayers we carry with us.
A votive candle is a symbol of the ongoing prayer of the person who lights it. We may light a candle for someone who is sick, for a loved one, in thanksgiving, or for any prayer we carry quietly in our hearts.
Whether the flame remains alight for an hour or for several days, we trust that the Lord receives the intention of the person who lit the candle. Although the candles do not make our prayer more powerful or guarantee a particular response from God, they do serve as a visible sign of our trust and dependence upon him. The flame burns as a small reminder that our prayer continues, even after we have left the church.
October 4, 2026
The Sign of the Cross
The Mass speaks not only through words, but also through the gestures of our bodies. One of the most familiar is the Sign of the Cross, which we make at the beginning and end of Mass.
The Sign of the Cross is an ancient Christian gesture. By at least the second century, Christians were using the cross as a sign of their faith, and by the fourth century, making the sign of the cross had become a recognizable Christian practice. As we trace the cross over our bodies and say, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” we proclaim both the mystery of the Trinity and the mystery of our salvation: we belong to Christ, whose cross has become the sign of our redemption. When we make the Sign of the Cross using Holy Water, it is a direct reminder of our baptism.
We also make another small gesture before the Gospel. As the priest or deacon announces, “A reading from the holy Gospel according to…,” many people trace a small cross on our forehead, lips, and heart. This gesture expresses a simple prayer: May the Gospel be in our minds, on our lips, and in our hearts. We ask for the grace to understand Christ’s Word, to proclaim it, and to allow it to shape the way we live.
These gestures can become so familiar that we make them without thinking. Yet each time we make the Sign of the Cross or mark ourselves before the Gospel, our bodies are helping us pray. We are reminding ourselves whose we are and asking Christ’s Word to take root in us.
September 27, 2026
"Let Us Pray"
At the beginning of Mass, after the Penitential Act and the Gloria, the priest says, “Let us pray.” These words are more than an introduction to the prayer that follows. They are an invitation.
For a moment, we are invited to become quiet and offer our own prayers to God: prayers of thanksgiving, petition, sorrow, hope, or simply the needs we carry with us. That silence is not an empty pause. It is sacred space in which all of us, through our Baptism, exercise our own priestly ministry by offering our prayers to God.
Then the priest raises his hands and prays the Collect, gathering together the prayers of the entire assembly and offering them to God. The gesture of his extended arms is a visible sign of this offering: the priest offers not only his own prayer, but the prayers of the people entrusted to his care.
This is why the opening prayer of the Mass is called the Collect—from the Latin collecta, meaning “gathered together.” The priest gathers the prayers of the Church and presents them to God.
So, when we hear “Let us pray” at the beginning and end of Mass, we need not simply wait for the priest's words. We have been invited to pray. The silence belongs to us. Bring into that sacred space whatever you have carried into the church, trusting that your prayer, together with the prayers of this community, will be gathered and offered to God.
September 20, 2026
The Sanctus
At the conclusion of the Preface, the priest invites us to join the angels and saints in praising God. We respond with the Sanctus, or “Holy, Holy, Holy,” an acclamation that prepares us to enter more deeply into the Eucharistic Prayer.
The first words come from the vision of the prophet Isaiah, who hears the angels proclaim before God’s throne: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!” (Isaiah 6:3). When we sing these words, we join our voices to the worship of heaven and proclaim that God’s glory fills all creation.
Then we sing, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest!” These words come from Psalm 118:26 and were also shouted by the crowds as Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday (Matthew 21:9). Hosanna originally expressed a plea for salvation—“save us”—and became an acclamation of praise.
The two parts come together beautifully. We praise the holiness of God and then greet the One who comes in his name.
The Sanctus is therefore both praise and anticipation. With the angels, we proclaim God's glory; with the people of Jerusalem, we welcome Christ. As we sing, we prepare our hearts for the mystery about to unfold: the Holy One comes among us.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
September 13, 2026
The Penitential Act
The Mass begins with a moment of recognition. We have gathered in the presence of God, and like Peter after the miraculous catch of fish, we may find ourselves saying, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (Luke 5:8). Peter’s words were not really an admission of failure. They were the response of someone who had suddenly recognized the holiness of the One standing before him.
The Penitential Act gives us a similar moment at the beginning of every Mass. We acknowledge our need for God’s mercy and healing before we enter more deeply into the celebration of the Eucharist.
The Roman Missal provides several forms for this act. We may pray the Confiteor (“I confess to almighty God”), asking for the prayers of the saints and of one another. We may respond to a series of invocations with “Lord, have mercy,” echoing the prayer of the blind, the sick, and others who called upon Jesus for healing. On certain occasions, we may also use a form that recalls our Baptism through the blessing and sprinkling of water.
Each form leads us to the same place: we stand before God as we are, trusting that God’s mercy is greater than our weakness or our sins.
The Penitential Act does not tell us that we are unworthy to be here. Rather, it reminds us that we stand in the presence of the One who makes us whole and that is where we find the confidence to then sing “Glory to God in the highest!”
-Fr. Silas, SDS
September 6, 2026
The Gift of Silence
Silence is an essential part of the Mass. It may seem like nothing is happening when the Church becomes quiet, but liturgical silence is not inactivity. It is a way of being present.
After each reading, we are given a moment of silence. We have just heard the Word of God proclaimed, and the silence gives us space to receive it. We do not need to explain it immediately or decide what it means for us. We simply allow the Word we have heard to settle within us.
The same is true after the homily. The preacher has spoken, but the Church does not immediately move on to the Creed. The silence gives each of us an opportunity to listen again—not to the preacher's voice, but to what God may be saying through the Word we have heard.
After we receive the Eucharist, the silence takes on another depth. We have received Christ himself. Before we begin the next part of the liturgy, we are given time to remain in his presence and give thanks. Sometimes there may be words in our hearts; sometimes there may be none. Silence allows both.
In a world filled with noise and constant demands for our attention, the silence of the Mass is a gift. It gives us permission simply to be present—to the Word, to Christ, to one another, and to the mystery we are celebrating.
Silence is not an empty space in the liturgy. It is one of the ways the Church teaches us how to pray.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 30, 2026
The Colors of the Liturgy
The Mass is a dialogue. From beginning to end, the priest and people speak and respond to one another: "The Lord be with you." "And with your spirit." "Lift up your hearts." "We lift them up to the Lord." These exchanges are more than familiar words that move the liturgy along. They express the active participation of the whole assembly in the worship of God.
Through Baptism, every Christian shares in Christ's priesthood. When we respond at Mass, we are not spectators offering occasional answers to the priest. We are exercising our own baptismal ministry, joining our voices to the prayer of the Church.
This becomes especially clear in the Eucharistic Prayer. After the priest proclaims “The mystery of faith,” the assembly responds with one of the Eucharistic Acclamations: "We proclaim your Death, O Lord, and profess your Resurrection until you come again"; "When we eat this Bread and drink this Cup, we proclaim your Death, O Lord, until you come again"; or "Save us, Savior of the world, for by your Cross and Resurrection you have set us free." These are not interruptions in the Eucharistic Prayer. Each is a prayer that is offered to Christ who is now present on the altar under the form of bread and wine.
And then comes the Great Amen. After the priest sings or recites the doxology at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, the assembly responds, "Amen!" This is no casual conclusion. It is our great "Yes" to all that has just been prayed: Yes, we believe. Yes, we offer ourselves with Christ. Yes, we receive this mystery as the gift of God.
The dialogue of the Mass reminds us that we are not spectators. We are the Church at prayer, and our voices belong within the mystery.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 23, 2026
The Colors of the Liturgy
Have you ever noticed the colors worn by the priest and deacon change throughout the year? These colors are more than decoration. They are one of the ways the liturgy engages our senses and invites us more deeply into the mystery we celebrate.
White is a color of celebration and joy. We see it throughout the Christmas and Easter seasons, at feasts of the Lord and the Blessed Virgin Mary, and on the memorials of saints who were not martyrs. White is also used at weddings and funerals, reminding us of the joy and hope we have in Christ.
Green is worn during Ordinary Time. It is the color of growth and hope, reminding us that the Christian life is a journey in which we are continually growing in faith and becoming more deeply rooted in Christ.
Red is the color of fire and blood. It is worn on Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descends upon the Apostles, at celebrations of the Lord's Passion, and on the feast days of martyrs who shed their blood for Christ.
Violet is the color of Advent and Lent. It speaks of anticipation and penitence as we prepare to celebrate the great mysteries of Christ's birth, death, and resurrection.
On the Third Sunday of Advent and the Fourth Sunday of Lent the color rose may be worn as a symbol of restrained joy. Christmas and Easter are drawing near, and the Church gives us a moment to rejoice even as we continue our journey of preparation.
The next time you notice the color of the vestments, let it speak to you. The liturgy uses our senses to help our hearts enter more deeply into the mysteries we celebrate.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 16, 2026
Celebrating Saint Pius X
On August 22 and 23, we will celebrate something special: our parish's patronal feast. With the permission of Archbishop Grob, we are transferring the celebration of Saint Pius X from August 21, so that our whole parish community can honor our patron together at the weekend Masses.
Born Giuseppe Sarto in 1835, Pius X served as a parish priest, bishop, and Patriarch of Venice before being elected pope in 1903. He chose as his motto, "To renew all things in Christ"—words that shaped his ministry and his vision for the Church. Those same words, inscribed in Latin on the canopy above the sanctuary crucifix, continue to remind us of the mission entrusted to our parish today.
At a time when many Catholics received Holy Communion only rarely, Pius X encouraged frequent reception of the Eucharist and lowered the age for First Communion. He wanted the faithful—adults and children alike—to draw close to Christ in the sacrament of his Body and Blood.
Pope Saint Pius X also gave definitive papal approval to the Constitutions of the Salvatorian Fathers and Brothers, confirming the mission that Blessed Francis Mary of the Cross Jordan had begun years before. Since 1952, Salvatorian priests, brothers, sisters, and lay members have continued that mission here at St. Pius X Parish.
This week we will restore the statue of Saint Pius X to its historic niche in our church. Candles, flowers, and a relic of our patron saint will remind us that the saints are not simply figures from the past. Rather, the saints, like us, remain members of the one Body of Christ, united with us in the Communion
of Saints.
A patron saint is more than a name on a building. A patron is a companion who points us toward Christ. And so, as we celebrate Saint Pius X, may his prayer for us help our parish live his great hope: that all things—and all of us—might be renewed in Christ.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 9, 2026
The Quiet Prayers of the Priest
Did you know that throughout the liturgy, the priest quietly prays a number of short prayers that most people never hear? But these prayers are not private devotions. They are part of the Church's liturgy, woven into the ministry of the priest (or deacon) and helping us remain prayerful and attentive to the mysteries being celebrated.
First, after proclaiming the Gospel, the priest (or deacon) quietly prays, as he kisses the Book of the Gospels, "Through the words of the Gospel may our sins be wiped away." Even as we minister the Word to others, the liturgy reminds us that we, too, must allow that Word to shape our lives.
After placing the bread and wine on the altar, the priest asks, "With humble spirit and contrite heart may we be accepted by you, O Lord"—echoing the prayer of Azariah in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3:39–40). As he washes his hands, he prays the words of Psalm 51: "Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin" (Psalm 51:4).
Throughout the Mass, these quiet prayers keep drawing us back to the mystery we are celebrating, even as we move from one responsibility to the next. Later, during the Lamb of God, the priest again prays for mercy before receiving Holy Communion, asking that the Body and Blood of Christ bring healing rather than condemnation.
After Communion, as the paten and chalices are purified, he prays, "What has passed our lips as food, O Lord, may we possess in purity of heart, that what has been given to us in time may be our healing for eternity."
Celebrating the Mass involves many words, gestures, and duties. These quiet prayers continually draw the priest back to the unfolding mysteries.
These prayers aren't spoken aloud, but that is also part of their beauty. Quietly woven into the liturgy, they help priests and deacons remember that even as we lead others in prayer, we are also being called to listen, to receive, and to be transformed.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 2, 2026
The Lord's Prayer
Each time we gather for Mass, we pray the words Jesus himself taught us: "Our Father..." Those words are an essential part of who we are as Christians and, because of that, we don't rush from the Lord's Prayer to Holy Communion. Instead, the structure of the Mass invites us to linger with Jesus' words and allow them to prepare our hearts to receive the Lord.
After we pray, "deliver us from evil," the priest expands that final petition: "Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil..." This prayer, called the embolism, asks for freedom from sin, peace in our days, and hope as we "await the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ" (Titus 2:13). This prayer was added to the Roman Mass by Pope Saint Gregory the Great in the sixth century, and it invites us to dwell a little longer on the final words of the Lord's Prayer.
Then we respond with praise: "For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours now and for ever." This ancient doxology is not part of the original Scriptural text of the Lord's Prayer, but we pray it as a prayer of trust: the power and glory belong to God, and we place ourselves into God’s hands. Finally, the priest recalls Jesus' promise: "Peace I leave you; my peace I give you" (John 14:27). So, before we exchange the gift of peace with one another, we first ask Christ to give his peace to the Church. We can only share what we have first received. In these few moments, the words we pray lead us from praise, to trust, to peace. Every prayer surrounding the Lord's Prayer slows us down just enough to help us remember that the One who taught us to pray is the very One we are about to receive in the Eucharist.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
July 26, 2026
What are "Mass Intentions"?
There are moments in life when words don’t seem enough. The birth of a child. A wedding anniversary. A serious illness. The death of someone we love. A difficult decision. A prayer of thanksgiving after an unexpected blessing. For centuries, Catholics have brought these moments to the altar by asking that Mass be offered for a particular intention. Sometimes that intention is for someone who has died. At other times, it is for a person who is living—for healing, strength, guidance, or simply in gratitude for God’s blessings. This is not a matter of superstition or “buying a Mass. ” Nor does it mean that the prayers of the Church are reserved only for those whose names appear in the bulletin. At every Mass, we pray for the whole Church and for the needs of the entire world. A Mass intention simply allows one particular person or intention to be remembered in a special way as the parish gathers around the Lord’s table. In the Eucharist, we bring our whole lives before God. As the bread and wine are placed upon the altar, we also offer our joys and sorrows, our hopes and fears, our gratitude and our grief. The Eucharist teaches us that nothing truly human is foreign to God. If you have never requested a Mass intention, I encourage you to consider doing so. It is a beautiful way to entrust someone you love—or a significant moment in your own life—to the mercy and care of God and to the prayer of the entire Church.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
July 19, 2026
The Presentation of the Gifts
As the gifts of bread and wine are brought forward at Mass, you may have noticed that the collection is now presented as well. This isn’t simply a practical way of gathering donations. It is a visible reminder that our offering to God includes not only bread and wine, but our own lives and our care for one another.
The General Instruction of the Roman Missal notes that the money or other gifts collected from the faithful are intended “for the needs of the Church and of the poor.” From the earliest centuries of Christianity, the Eucharist and care for those in need have always
belonged together.
In fact, around the middle of the second century, Justin Martyr described how Christians brought forward bread and wine for the Eucharist, along with gifts for widows, orphans, the sick, the poor, and others in need. These offerings were received by the priest and deacons, who celebrated the Eucharist and then ensured that the gifts were distributed to those who needed them most.
Our parish is part of that ancient tradition. The regular collection supports the mission of St. Pius X Parish and our outreach to those in need. Likewise, the offerings many parishioners place in the baskets near the sanctuary to support special ministries remind us that our worship naturally overflows into generosity and service.
This history also explains why the priest washes his hands after receiving the gifts. In earlier centuries, he often received not only bread and wine but many other offerings brought forward by the faithful. Today the “lavabo” remains as both a practical gesture and a quiet prayer that, as our gifts are prepared, our hearts may also be made ready to offer ourselves to God.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
Votive Candles
Since Father Edward and I arrived in June, several parishioners and guests have asked about the possibility of having votive candles in the church. After discussing this possibility with the parish staff and reviewing possible locations, we have moved the historic shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Help to the former parish baptistry (the space leading to the chapel). We will also be adding a new votive candle rack near the icon of Saint Joseph at the front of the church. These candles are more than a beautiful addition to our devotional spaces. They give visible expression to the prayers we carry with us.
A votive candle is a symbol of the ongoing prayer of the person who lights it. We may light a candle for someone who is sick, for a loved one, in thanksgiving, or for any prayer we carry quietly in our hearts.
Whether the flame remains alight for an hour or for several days, we trust that the Lord receives the intention of the person who lit the candle. Although the candles do not make our prayer more powerful or guarantee a particular response from God, they do serve as a visible sign of our trust and dependence upon him. The flame burns as a small reminder that our prayer continues, even after we have left the church.
October 4, 2026
The Sign of the Cross
The Mass speaks not only through words, but also through the gestures of our bodies. One of the most familiar is the Sign of the Cross, which we make at the beginning and end of Mass.
The Sign of the Cross is an ancient Christian gesture. By at least the second century, Christians were using the cross as a sign of their faith, and by the fourth century, making the sign of the cross had become a recognizable Christian practice. As we trace the cross over our bodies and say, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” we proclaim both the mystery of the Trinity and the mystery of our salvation: we belong to Christ, whose cross has become the sign of our redemption. When we make the Sign of the Cross using Holy Water, it is a direct reminder of our baptism.
We also make another small gesture before the Gospel. As the priest or deacon announces, “A reading from the holy Gospel according to…,” many people trace a small cross on our forehead, lips, and heart. This gesture expresses a simple prayer: May the Gospel be in our minds, on our lips, and in our hearts. We ask for the grace to understand Christ’s Word, to proclaim it, and to allow it to shape the way we live.
These gestures can become so familiar that we make them without thinking. Yet each time we make the Sign of the Cross or mark ourselves before the Gospel, our bodies are helping us pray. We are reminding ourselves whose we are and asking Christ’s Word to take root in us.
September 27, 2026
"Let Us Pray"
At the beginning of Mass, after the Penitential Act and the Gloria, the priest says, “Let us pray.” These words are more than an introduction to the prayer that follows. They are an invitation.
For a moment, we are invited to become quiet and offer our own prayers to God: prayers of thanksgiving, petition, sorrow, hope, or simply the needs we carry with us. That silence is not an empty pause. It is sacred space in which all of us, through our Baptism, exercise our own priestly ministry by offering our prayers to God.
Then the priest raises his hands and prays the Collect, gathering together the prayers of the entire assembly and offering them to God. The gesture of his extended arms is a visible sign of this offering: the priest offers not only his own prayer, but the prayers of the people entrusted to his care.
This is why the opening prayer of the Mass is called the Collect—from the Latin collecta, meaning “gathered together.” The priest gathers the prayers of the Church and presents them to God.
So, when we hear “Let us pray” at the beginning and end of Mass, we need not simply wait for the priest's words. We have been invited to pray. The silence belongs to us. Bring into that sacred space whatever you have carried into the church, trusting that your prayer, together with the prayers of this community, will be gathered and offered to God.
September 20, 2026
The Sanctus
At the conclusion of the Preface, the priest invites us to join the angels and saints in praising God. We respond with the Sanctus, or “Holy, Holy, Holy,” an acclamation that prepares us to enter more deeply into the Eucharistic Prayer.
The first words come from the vision of the prophet Isaiah, who hears the angels proclaim before God’s throne: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!” (Isaiah 6:3). When we sing these words, we join our voices to the worship of heaven and proclaim that God’s glory fills all creation.
Then we sing, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest!” These words come from Psalm 118:26 and were also shouted by the crowds as Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday (Matthew 21:9). Hosanna originally expressed a plea for salvation—“save us”—and became an acclamation of praise.
The two parts come together beautifully. We praise the holiness of God and then greet the One who comes in his name.
The Sanctus is therefore both praise and anticipation. With the angels, we proclaim God's glory; with the people of Jerusalem, we welcome Christ. As we sing, we prepare our hearts for the mystery about to unfold: the Holy One comes among us.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
September 13, 2026
The Penitential Act
The Mass begins with a moment of recognition. We have gathered in the presence of God, and like Peter after the miraculous catch of fish, we may find ourselves saying, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (Luke 5:8). Peter’s words were not really an admission of failure. They were the response of someone who had suddenly recognized the holiness of the One standing before him.
The Penitential Act gives us a similar moment at the beginning of every Mass. We acknowledge our need for God’s mercy and healing before we enter more deeply into the celebration of the Eucharist.
The Roman Missal provides several forms for this act. We may pray the Confiteor (“I confess to almighty God”), asking for the prayers of the saints and of one another. We may respond to a series of invocations with “Lord, have mercy,” echoing the prayer of the blind, the sick, and others who called upon Jesus for healing. On certain occasions, we may also use a form that recalls our Baptism through the blessing and sprinkling of water.
Each form leads us to the same place: we stand before God as we are, trusting that God’s mercy is greater than our weakness or our sins.
The Penitential Act does not tell us that we are unworthy to be here. Rather, it reminds us that we stand in the presence of the One who makes us whole and that is where we find the confidence to then sing “Glory to God in the highest!”
-Fr. Silas, SDS
September 6, 2026
The Gift of Silence
Silence is an essential part of the Mass. It may seem like nothing is happening when the Church becomes quiet, but liturgical silence is not inactivity. It is a way of being present.
After each reading, we are given a moment of silence. We have just heard the Word of God proclaimed, and the silence gives us space to receive it. We do not need to explain it immediately or decide what it means for us. We simply allow the Word we have heard to settle within us.
The same is true after the homily. The preacher has spoken, but the Church does not immediately move on to the Creed. The silence gives each of us an opportunity to listen again—not to the preacher's voice, but to what God may be saying through the Word we have heard.
After we receive the Eucharist, the silence takes on another depth. We have received Christ himself. Before we begin the next part of the liturgy, we are given time to remain in his presence and give thanks. Sometimes there may be words in our hearts; sometimes there may be none. Silence allows both.
In a world filled with noise and constant demands for our attention, the silence of the Mass is a gift. It gives us permission simply to be present—to the Word, to Christ, to one another, and to the mystery we are celebrating.
Silence is not an empty space in the liturgy. It is one of the ways the Church teaches us how to pray.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 30, 2026
The Colors of the Liturgy
The Mass is a dialogue. From beginning to end, the priest and people speak and respond to one another: "The Lord be with you." "And with your spirit." "Lift up your hearts." "We lift them up to the Lord." These exchanges are more than familiar words that move the liturgy along. They express the active participation of the whole assembly in the worship of God.
Through Baptism, every Christian shares in Christ's priesthood. When we respond at Mass, we are not spectators offering occasional answers to the priest. We are exercising our own baptismal ministry, joining our voices to the prayer of the Church.
This becomes especially clear in the Eucharistic Prayer. After the priest proclaims “The mystery of faith,” the assembly responds with one of the Eucharistic Acclamations: "We proclaim your Death, O Lord, and profess your Resurrection until you come again"; "When we eat this Bread and drink this Cup, we proclaim your Death, O Lord, until you come again"; or "Save us, Savior of the world, for by your Cross and Resurrection you have set us free." These are not interruptions in the Eucharistic Prayer. Each is a prayer that is offered to Christ who is now present on the altar under the form of bread and wine.
And then comes the Great Amen. After the priest sings or recites the doxology at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, the assembly responds, "Amen!" This is no casual conclusion. It is our great "Yes" to all that has just been prayed: Yes, we believe. Yes, we offer ourselves with Christ. Yes, we receive this mystery as the gift of God.
The dialogue of the Mass reminds us that we are not spectators. We are the Church at prayer, and our voices belong within the mystery.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 23, 2026
The Colors of the Liturgy
Have you ever noticed the colors worn by the priest and deacon change throughout the year? These colors are more than decoration. They are one of the ways the liturgy engages our senses and invites us more deeply into the mystery we celebrate.
White is a color of celebration and joy. We see it throughout the Christmas and Easter seasons, at feasts of the Lord and the Blessed Virgin Mary, and on the memorials of saints who were not martyrs. White is also used at weddings and funerals, reminding us of the joy and hope we have in Christ.
Green is worn during Ordinary Time. It is the color of growth and hope, reminding us that the Christian life is a journey in which we are continually growing in faith and becoming more deeply rooted in Christ.
Red is the color of fire and blood. It is worn on Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descends upon the Apostles, at celebrations of the Lord's Passion, and on the feast days of martyrs who shed their blood for Christ.
Violet is the color of Advent and Lent. It speaks of anticipation and penitence as we prepare to celebrate the great mysteries of Christ's birth, death, and resurrection.
On the Third Sunday of Advent and the Fourth Sunday of Lent the color rose may be worn as a symbol of restrained joy. Christmas and Easter are drawing near, and the Church gives us a moment to rejoice even as we continue our journey of preparation.
The next time you notice the color of the vestments, let it speak to you. The liturgy uses our senses to help our hearts enter more deeply into the mysteries we celebrate.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 16, 2026
Celebrating Saint Pius X
On August 22 and 23, we will celebrate something special: our parish's patronal feast. With the permission of Archbishop Grob, we are transferring the celebration of Saint Pius X from August 21, so that our whole parish community can honor our patron together at the weekend Masses.
Born Giuseppe Sarto in 1835, Pius X served as a parish priest, bishop, and Patriarch of Venice before being elected pope in 1903. He chose as his motto, "To renew all things in Christ"—words that shaped his ministry and his vision for the Church. Those same words, inscribed in Latin on the canopy above the sanctuary crucifix, continue to remind us of the mission entrusted to our parish today.
At a time when many Catholics received Holy Communion only rarely, Pius X encouraged frequent reception of the Eucharist and lowered the age for First Communion. He wanted the faithful—adults and children alike—to draw close to Christ in the sacrament of his Body and Blood.
Pope Saint Pius X also gave definitive papal approval to the Constitutions of the Salvatorian Fathers and Brothers, confirming the mission that Blessed Francis Mary of the Cross Jordan had begun years before. Since 1952, Salvatorian priests, brothers, sisters, and lay members have continued that mission here at St. Pius X Parish.
This week we will restore the statue of Saint Pius X to its historic niche in our church. Candles, flowers, and a relic of our patron saint will remind us that the saints are not simply figures from the past. Rather, the saints, like us, remain members of the one Body of Christ, united with us in the Communion
of Saints.
A patron saint is more than a name on a building. A patron is a companion who points us toward Christ. And so, as we celebrate Saint Pius X, may his prayer for us help our parish live his great hope: that all things—and all of us—might be renewed in Christ.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 9, 2026
The Quiet Prayers of the Priest
Did you know that throughout the liturgy, the priest quietly prays a number of short prayers that most people never hear? But these prayers are not private devotions. They are part of the Church's liturgy, woven into the ministry of the priest (or deacon) and helping us remain prayerful and attentive to the mysteries being celebrated.
First, after proclaiming the Gospel, the priest (or deacon) quietly prays, as he kisses the Book of the Gospels, "Through the words of the Gospel may our sins be wiped away." Even as we minister the Word to others, the liturgy reminds us that we, too, must allow that Word to shape our lives.
After placing the bread and wine on the altar, the priest asks, "With humble spirit and contrite heart may we be accepted by you, O Lord"—echoing the prayer of Azariah in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3:39–40). As he washes his hands, he prays the words of Psalm 51: "Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin" (Psalm 51:4).
Throughout the Mass, these quiet prayers keep drawing us back to the mystery we are celebrating, even as we move from one responsibility to the next. Later, during the Lamb of God, the priest again prays for mercy before receiving Holy Communion, asking that the Body and Blood of Christ bring healing rather than condemnation.
After Communion, as the paten and chalices are purified, he prays, "What has passed our lips as food, O Lord, may we possess in purity of heart, that what has been given to us in time may be our healing for eternity."
Celebrating the Mass involves many words, gestures, and duties. These quiet prayers continually draw the priest back to the unfolding mysteries.
These prayers aren't spoken aloud, but that is also part of their beauty. Quietly woven into the liturgy, they help priests and deacons remember that even as we lead others in prayer, we are also being called to listen, to receive, and to be transformed.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
August 2, 2026
The Lord's Prayer
Each time we gather for Mass, we pray the words Jesus himself taught us: "Our Father..." Those words are an essential part of who we are as Christians and, because of that, we don't rush from the Lord's Prayer to Holy Communion. Instead, the structure of the Mass invites us to linger with Jesus' words and allow them to prepare our hearts to receive the Lord.
After we pray, "deliver us from evil," the priest expands that final petition: "Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil..." This prayer, called the embolism, asks for freedom from sin, peace in our days, and hope as we "await the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ" (Titus 2:13). This prayer was added to the Roman Mass by Pope Saint Gregory the Great in the sixth century, and it invites us to dwell a little longer on the final words of the Lord's Prayer.
Then we respond with praise: "For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours now and for ever." This ancient doxology is not part of the original Scriptural text of the Lord's Prayer, but we pray it as a prayer of trust: the power and glory belong to God, and we place ourselves into God’s hands. Finally, the priest recalls Jesus' promise: "Peace I leave you; my peace I give you" (John 14:27). So, before we exchange the gift of peace with one another, we first ask Christ to give his peace to the Church. We can only share what we have first received. In these few moments, the words we pray lead us from praise, to trust, to peace. Every prayer surrounding the Lord's Prayer slows us down just enough to help us remember that the One who taught us to pray is the very One we are about to receive in the Eucharist.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
July 26, 2026
What are "Mass Intentions"?
There are moments in life when words don’t seem enough. The birth of a child. A wedding anniversary. A serious illness. The death of someone we love. A difficult decision. A prayer of thanksgiving after an unexpected blessing. For centuries, Catholics have brought these moments to the altar by asking that Mass be offered for a particular intention. Sometimes that intention is for someone who has died. At other times, it is for a person who is living—for healing, strength, guidance, or simply in gratitude for God’s blessings. This is not a matter of superstition or “buying a Mass. ” Nor does it mean that the prayers of the Church are reserved only for those whose names appear in the bulletin. At every Mass, we pray for the whole Church and for the needs of the entire world. A Mass intention simply allows one particular person or intention to be remembered in a special way as the parish gathers around the Lord’s table. In the Eucharist, we bring our whole lives before God. As the bread and wine are placed upon the altar, we also offer our joys and sorrows, our hopes and fears, our gratitude and our grief. The Eucharist teaches us that nothing truly human is foreign to God. If you have never requested a Mass intention, I encourage you to consider doing so. It is a beautiful way to entrust someone you love—or a significant moment in your own life—to the mercy and care of God and to the prayer of the entire Church.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
July 19, 2026
The Presentation of the Gifts
As the gifts of bread and wine are brought forward at Mass, you may have noticed that the collection is now presented as well. This isn’t simply a practical way of gathering donations. It is a visible reminder that our offering to God includes not only bread and wine, but our own lives and our care for one another.
The General Instruction of the Roman Missal notes that the money or other gifts collected from the faithful are intended “for the needs of the Church and of the poor.” From the earliest centuries of Christianity, the Eucharist and care for those in need have always
belonged together.
In fact, around the middle of the second century, Justin Martyr described how Christians brought forward bread and wine for the Eucharist, along with gifts for widows, orphans, the sick, the poor, and others in need. These offerings were received by the priest and deacons, who celebrated the Eucharist and then ensured that the gifts were distributed to those who needed them most.
Our parish is part of that ancient tradition. The regular collection supports the mission of St. Pius X Parish and our outreach to those in need. Likewise, the offerings many parishioners place in the baskets near the sanctuary to support special ministries remind us that our worship naturally overflows into generosity and service.
This history also explains why the priest washes his hands after receiving the gifts. In earlier centuries, he often received not only bread and wine but many other offerings brought forward by the faithful. Today the “lavabo” remains as both a practical gesture and a quiet prayer that, as our gifts are prepared, our hearts may also be made ready to offer ourselves to God.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
July 12, 2026
The Vestments Worn at Mass
Over the past few weeks, you may have noticed a few changes in the vestments worn at Mass. While it is easy to think of vestments as simply “church clothes,” they actually tell a story about who we are and what we are doing when we gather for worship.
The foundation of liturgical dress is the alb, the long white garment worn by priests, deacons, and altar servers. Its color recalls the white garment received at Baptism and reminds us that, before anything else, we are Christians. Whether priest, server, lector, or member of the assembly, we all share the same dignity as daughters and sons of God.
Some clergy also wear a cincture, the cord tied around the waist. While optional, it has traditionally been associated with self-discipline, chastity, and a readiness to serve.
Over the alb, the priest wears a stole. Originally, the stole was not a religious garment at all. It developed from a garment associated with public officials in the later Roman Empire and gradually became a symbol of the authority entrusted to bishops, priests, and deacons. The stole is worn when any sacrament is celebrated.
At Mass, the stole is ordinarily covered by the chasuble, the outer vestment worn by the priest celebrant. Through the centuries, Christians came to see the chasuble as a symbol of charity—the love that should shape every aspect of Christian life and ministry. There is a beautiful lesson hidden here. The stole, representing authority, is covered by the chasuble, representing love. As Saint Paul reminds us, “Above all these put on love” (Colossians 3:14). In the Church, authority is meant to serve love, and love is always the greater gift.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
The Vestments Worn at Mass
Over the past few weeks, you may have noticed a few changes in the vestments worn at Mass. While it is easy to think of vestments as simply “church clothes,” they actually tell a story about who we are and what we are doing when we gather for worship.
The foundation of liturgical dress is the alb, the long white garment worn by priests, deacons, and altar servers. Its color recalls the white garment received at Baptism and reminds us that, before anything else, we are Christians. Whether priest, server, lector, or member of the assembly, we all share the same dignity as daughters and sons of God.
Some clergy also wear a cincture, the cord tied around the waist. While optional, it has traditionally been associated with self-discipline, chastity, and a readiness to serve.
Over the alb, the priest wears a stole. Originally, the stole was not a religious garment at all. It developed from a garment associated with public officials in the later Roman Empire and gradually became a symbol of the authority entrusted to bishops, priests, and deacons. The stole is worn when any sacrament is celebrated.
At Mass, the stole is ordinarily covered by the chasuble, the outer vestment worn by the priest celebrant. Through the centuries, Christians came to see the chasuble as a symbol of charity—the love that should shape every aspect of Christian life and ministry. There is a beautiful lesson hidden here. The stole, representing authority, is covered by the chasuble, representing love. As Saint Paul reminds us, “Above all these put on love” (Colossians 3:14). In the Church, authority is meant to serve love, and love is always the greater gift.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
July 5, 2026
Why Do We Say "For Many"?
One of the changes introduced in 2011 with the most-recent English translation of the Roman Missal is found in the words spoken over the chalice during the Eucharistic Prayer. Where Catholics once heard that Christ's blood would be poured out "for you and for all," we now hear "for you and for many."
This change was made to bring the English translation more closely into the line with the words of Jesus in the New Testament. At the Last Supper, Jesus says that his blood is poured out "for many" (Matthew 26:28; Mark 14:24). The Latin text of the Mass has always used the phrase pro multum ("for many"), and the Roman Missal directs priests to follow the approved liturgical text.
Some people understandably wonder whether "for many" suggests that Christ did not die for everyone. The Church's answer is clear: Christ died for all people, and God desires the salvation of all (cf. 1 Timothy 2:4). Pope Benedict XVI even addressed this question directly in 2012, explaining that "for many" is a faithful translation of Jesus' words and reflects the biblical language used at the Last Supper. At the same time, he emphasized that Christ's saving sacrifice is offered for every human person.
The expression "for many" reminds us that salvation is not automatic. God's grace is offered to all, but each person is invited to respond freely to that gift.
Whether we focus on Christ's desire to save all people or on our personal response to that invitation, the message remains the same: the mercy of God revealed in Jesus Christ is offered generously, abundantly, and without measure.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
Why Do We Say "For Many"?
One of the changes introduced in 2011 with the most-recent English translation of the Roman Missal is found in the words spoken over the chalice during the Eucharistic Prayer. Where Catholics once heard that Christ's blood would be poured out "for you and for all," we now hear "for you and for many."
This change was made to bring the English translation more closely into the line with the words of Jesus in the New Testament. At the Last Supper, Jesus says that his blood is poured out "for many" (Matthew 26:28; Mark 14:24). The Latin text of the Mass has always used the phrase pro multum ("for many"), and the Roman Missal directs priests to follow the approved liturgical text.
Some people understandably wonder whether "for many" suggests that Christ did not die for everyone. The Church's answer is clear: Christ died for all people, and God desires the salvation of all (cf. 1 Timothy 2:4). Pope Benedict XVI even addressed this question directly in 2012, explaining that "for many" is a faithful translation of Jesus' words and reflects the biblical language used at the Last Supper. At the same time, he emphasized that Christ's saving sacrifice is offered for every human person.
The expression "for many" reminds us that salvation is not automatic. God's grace is offered to all, but each person is invited to respond freely to that gift.
Whether we focus on Christ's desire to save all people or on our personal response to that invitation, the message remains the same: the mercy of God revealed in Jesus Christ is offered generously, abundantly, and without measure.
-Fr. Silas, SDS
