Church Bells
We do not just see Mass begin. We also hear it begin. And it begins with the pealing of bells.
That is unusual.
Indeed, the pealing of the church’s steeple bells is the one thing that happens at Mass that is public. Everything else is for the congregation. It’s the bells that bring the Mass’s prayer to everyone who is not with us. Conceived this way, the bells might gather entire neighborhoods and cities into the mystery of the Mass. The bells expand the Mass’s reach. The Canadian composer R. Murray Schafer used to imagine the parish extending as far as its bells could be heard.
Bells make assertions. We think of steeple bells summoning Christians to church. But they assert much more.
From the earliest days, Christians used “bells” at Mass for worship. Before bells even properly existed, in some places, Christians would strike bronze cups during the more solemn parts of the Mass. Even today, bells are often rung when the body and blood of Jesus are elevated at the consecration. The assertion is that Jesus is present.
Bells in a tower and belfry took a few hundred years to appear. It was not until the early Middle Ages that tower bells became common. There’s a sense in which they asserted everything. The beginning of Mass, yes, but also the hour of day, weddings and births, approaching armies, fires and floods, curfews. Different bells with different notes and tunes were used to distinguish each message. The slow and solemn thud is famously associated with funeral processions.
There is a rite for the blessing of church bells. It is normally done by a bishop. He walks around the bell, anointing it with oil. North, south, east, and west. He anoints it in the four directions it rings. “Pour down your blessing upon this bell,” he prays, “that its voice may arouse the hearts of your faithful.” The bell has a “voice,” the bishop says.
Like Christians, bells make assertions. Like Christians, the church bells make assertions about far more than just the city’s latest comings and goings, the latest wedding, birth, or death. There is more to talk about than even fires and floods. Like Christians, the bells assert that Jesus has been born, that he’s been raised. The bells assert that you can find him here ― at the church. Here for the Mass. Here through the fires and through the floods. Here through the births and through the deaths. Indeed, that is so fundamental to what Christians assert — that Jesus is present — even their buildings talk about it.