External Pious Practices

External Pious Practices

At the heart of the Mass during the Consecration, we kneel in reverence as bread and wine become the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ. Like Saint Thomas the Apostle, we gaze upon the Host and quietly say, “My Lord and my God.”

Holiness can seem like an elusive goal. In its essential sense, we are holy when we are in the state of sanctifying grace. We do not judge the state of another person’s soul—God alone is our judge. Our concern is much more personal and practical: how do we remain in the state of grace now and forever? Both interior faith and exterior pious practices help us do that.

Scripture teaches that “fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” This fear is not servile or anxious; it begins with recognizing that God is all-holy—and that He is bigger than we are. When we truly believe that God is all-powerful and all-good, our faith naturally shapes how we act in God’s presence.

The Old Testament gives many examples. Moses removed his sandals before the burning bush because he was standing on holy ground. The patriarchs fell on their faces before the Lord. Holy silence was required in the Temple. At Mount Sinai, the people stood at a distance in fear and trembling. Priests washed before entering the Tent of Meeting. Only a select few could enter the Holy of Holies. Above all, obedience to God’s will was the truest expression of piety—keeping the Law with love and reverence (cf. Psalm 50).

Catholic practice flows directly from God’s self-revelation. Our external practices help train our devotion. We set aside Sundays and Holy Days for Mass, honoring the first three Commandments. Except for a sufficient reason such as illness, we never miss Mass. We dress respectfully. We lower our voices in church because of the Presence of Jesus in the tabernacle and in respect for others in prayer. These actions remind us—not God—of where we are and Whom we are encountering.

We come to church early enough to prepare ourselves. We genuflect toward the tabernacle. We kneel quietly in recollection before Mass begins. Throughout the Mass, we participate in prayer in word and gesture: we stand, sit, kneel, listen, and respond. We sign ourselves with the Cross, strike our breasts in repentance, stand for the Gospel because we hear the words of Jesus, and profess the Creed together.

At the heart of the Mass during the Consecration, we kneel in reverence as bread and wine become the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ. Like Saint Thomas the Apostle, we gaze upon the Host and quietly say, “My Lord and my God.” As we prepare for Holy Communion, we echo the humility of the centurion: “Lord, I am not worthy” as we hold our position and gaze reverently on the Host.

We then approach the altar with devotion and receive the Lord, either on the tongue or reverently in the hand. Here are some practical points that can help avoid embarrassing incidents—such as dropping the Host or disrupting the distribution of Holy Communion. We moisten our tongue, close our eyes, and tilt our head. We keep our elbows off the altar rail and stay in our lane, giving the priest his space. We do not snatch the Host; we reverently receive Him.

We consume the Host in the presence of the priest. We return to our pews for prayer. That quiet time after Communion is precious. Even amid distractions—and there are many—it is a moment of intimate encounter with Jesus, perhaps a time to close our eyes in prayer.

Of course, we cannot expect perfection. With every reverence intended, parish life can sometimes feel like a pious sitcom. Children cry. Babies protest. Schedules unravel. We make mistakes. The priest makes mistakes. These are not failures of reverence; they are signs of our humanity united to the Mystical Body of Christ. We do our best, and God receives that effort with love (even if we feel the discomfort of agitation).

When Mass ends, we depart reverently, remembering that the priest, wearing the outward garment called a chasuble, stands in the person of Christ. As the priest departs, abide by the speed limits. Afterward, outside the sacred space, happy conversation and friendships are good and fitting.

Can we abuse these external practices and become like the Pharisees in the Gospel? Of course. But external pious practices are not ends in themselves. They dispose our hearts to receive grace, train our bodies to reverence what our minds profess, and protect us from spiritual carelessness. Through them, God forms us gradually in holiness.

Our goal is straightforward: to remain in the state of grace and grow in love and virtue until we pass through the narrow gate into everlasting glory.