What is the greatest form of art?

I asked myself a question recently.

What is the greatest form of art?

In my mind, art covers many areas. What Mario Batali does is art. What Claude Monet did is art. What Rodin did was art. Robert Frost was an artist. Pixar movies are beautiful art. Gregorian chant is art. Even some rap is art (no really, some of it is). So, what is the greatest form of art?

The Liturgy of the Catholic Mass.

Art, in my opinion, is man’s attempt at stimulating the five senses for the purpose of touching one’s soul or moving one’s spirit (chose your cliché of choice).

The Liturgy of the Catholic Mass fulfills my definition of art on every level and certainly takes it to a level not possible by any other form of art. I wondered how I could convey this belief. I decided it would be easiest to explain by describing one of the most memorable liturgies I’ve ever experienced.

The church was stark white inside with a modern look that I don’t normally like, but this church was different. It had a little details which gave it a holy warmth. Directly behind the alter, in clear view, was a beautiful golden tabernacle. The presidents chair was off to the right side of the sanctuary tilted in towards the alter. There were many more details like this. Details which turned an otherwise sterile and modern church into a true house of worship.

The church smelled pleasantly strong of incense and beeswax. Though every pew was filled beyond normal limits, the congregation was quiet. There was nothing but holy silence as we all knelt in adoration for the hour leading up to Mass. Though the monstrance was as bright and beautiful as a golden sun, everyone’s eyes were focused on the center of the monstrance. We were focused on our Lord. The silence was broken only twice. Once for the Rosary. And once for the Divine Mercy Chaplet.

Mass began with the entrance of the alter servers, the lectors, the local Deacon, Fr. Bill (the pastor), and  Fr. John Corapi. The procession song was lead by a young adult choir. They were accompanied by the congregation (who all seemed to sing beautifully), an organ, and a single trumpet. The result was a sound I can only liken to what I believe heaven sounds like.

Father ended our adoration and began Mass with benediction performed completely in Latin and done as reverently as I have ever seen.

Tantum ergo Sacramentum
Veneremur cernui
Et antiquum documentum
novo cedat ritui
Praestet fides supplementum
Sensuum defectui

Genitori, Genitoque
Laus et jubilatio
Salus, honor, virtus quoque
Sit et benedictio
Procedenti ab utroque
Compar sit laudatio. A-men

The church now smelled quite strongly of incense. I was reminded of the book of Revelation when we are presented with the imagery of the Saints in heaven receiving our prayers in the form of incense and presenting them to our Lord. By the time Fr. Corapi venerated the alter, I was in tears.

The readings were beautiful. The Gospel was beautiful. And for anyone who knows who Fr. Corapi is, you can imagine how wonderful the homily was. The rest of the Mass continued with the same fervent reverence—not only of the celebrants, but of the congregation and the choir as well. It felt like heaven. And I swear to you, that when we began singing Agnus Dei, I could hear the angels in heaven singing with us.

As we watched the gifts of bread and wine turned into the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ…as we all professed our faith and belief with our joyous Amen…I began to realize my hunger. As I stood kneeling listening to the angelic choir and the footsteps of the congregation making their way to the alter, my hunger grew. I was so excited when I was finally able to stand up and walk down the isle, I could barely keep the grin off of my face and the tears out of my eyes.

When I eventually heard the words, “The Body of Christ” and I responded with “Amen”, and I received our Lord on my tongue, my hunger vanished and a peace fell over me beyond even what I had felt up unto that point. Once I received His blood as well, I went back to my seat and knelt in thanksgiving.

I don’t normally sing after communion but this time I did. I joined the angles and the congregation and the choir in singing, Holy God, We Praise Thy Name. And when it was done. And the Fathers and the Deacon finished cleaning the vessels and put our Lord back into the tabernacle. We all sat. We sat without sound. We stayed there. Silently reflecting on our Lord Whom was with us in a very special way. He fed my hunger. He stimulated my senses. He moved my soul.

Aint no artist who can do that. Only our Lord.