The great Sanctus is a pinnacle of majesty in the Mass. This great canticle ought never be eliminated, for it is, and has been from antiquity, the Church’s dutiful first response to our Lord’s command, This do.  For the first thing Jesus himself did before uttering the command, that is, the first thing indicated by his word “this,” is to take bread and give thanks. Thus the Church, as indicated by the words of the Preface, follows suit. For in the Preface these words are heard: “It is truly meet, right, and salutary that we should at all times and in all places give thanks,” and are followed by “therefore . . . we laud and magnify thy holy name, evermore praising thee and saying . . .” whereupon we sing the Sanctus. That is, our giving of thanks, in obedience to “this do,” is carried out by means of the Sanctus. Jesus gave thanks, so we give thanks.

And the Sanctus itself is such a complete ascription of thanks and praise to God that those singing it do not even appear in the expression. “We” who are giving thanks are simply implied and not self-recognized, so fully is all glory directed to the One being thanked. The Sanctus simply and sublimely declares: “Holy! Holy! Holy! Lord God of Sabaoth! Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory! Hosanna in the Highest! Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord!”

And these words themselves masterfully combine Isaiah’s vision with Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, providing us with two captivating images: first, Isaiah’s vision is of the Lord of Hosts, whose train fills temple, the temple is filled with smoke, and the earth quakes at the majesty of God. But second, Jesus’ triumphal entry, though a clear ascription of praise to him, is markedly different, in that there is no smoke or obvious majesty. Rather, there is the humble figure of Jesus on an ass, entering Jerusalem. The poignant scene, reminiscent of Solomon’s entry on David’s mule, while also an occasion on which praise is ascribed to Jesus, is nevertheless an emphasis on his humility, for his entry, on Palm Sunday, is to become the eternal king of Israel by suffering and a cross. Thus the juxtaposition of these two scenes—the vision of majesty and the occasion of humility—makes a profound statement that ought not be missed: the humble figure here ought not be misunderstood. He is in spite of this humility the majestic Creator of the world, the same as he whose train filled the temple.

The blending of the scenes therefore is most appropriate immediately prior to the consecration of the elements for the Sacrament. For by this lesson we recall also that the simple appearance of the Sacrament is no less an occasion not to be misunderstood: here, too,  the Incarnate One comes to us for salvation, and the majesty of God is no less in evidence here than in the vision of Isaiah.

Pastors will do well to take routine occasion to teach and emphasize this brilliant lesson of the Sanctus to their people, for hereby a wonderful catechesis of the Lord’s Supper is offered.