Do you remember the day when the newspapers were filled with exciting accounts of the great welcome which General MacArthur received in New York? Seven and a half million people cheering and waving and throwing ticker-tape! What a terrific ovation! No one - least of all the General himself - could be in any doubt as to what the New Yorkers thought about him; they expressed themselves so clearly.

That is a point worth noting - they expressed them-selves. They did not just stay in their homes or offices or factories and think within their hearts what a fine fellow he was. They felt an interior and communal urge to come forth and demonstrate their attitude towards him. Their interior feelings demanded exterior manifestation in action. So they acted; they did what was natural in the circumstances; they cheered and yelled and waved.

And nobody had taught them to cheer and wave. When they were boys and girls at school no teacher had taken them for a lesson saying, "When you grow up you will meet occasions when you want to welcome somebody. Now the proper way to do that is to hold your hand up and move it from side to side; and at the same time you open your mouth and shout 'Hurrah!'" To give a lesson like that would be just about as silly as to tell children: "When you want to show you think something is funny you should emit jerky sounds like this: 'Ha! Ha! Ha!' ".

Laughter is an absolutely natural expression of amusement; waving and yelling are natural expressions of welcome; they don't have to be taught. They "come natural" - as do many other human activities which express internal emotions. Such things are just part of human nature. If a man is angry he will frown and glare; if he is happy he will smile; if he is in pain or sorrow he will groan or weep. And he doesn't have to be taught how to express externally these internal emotions. Their expression is not the result of convention but of human nature.

This is true of all human beings whether they be British or American or European or African or Indian or Chinese. In such elementary things human nature is the same the world over. It is natural to man, then, to express externally any strong internal desires, feelings or convictions.

And there is another point in which all mankind is at one. Ethnologists tell us that there is no race or people or tribe, however primitive, which does not believe that there is some power or powers above man guiding his destiny. This is a completely universal belief. You have only to think of human history to see how true this is. Remember the ancient Assyrians and Babylonians and Egyptians and Romans and Greeks and all the gods they believed in. Think of the temples and shrines and altars of all the peoples, present and past, dotted all over the five continents. It is absolutely normal to human beings to believe in a god or gods.

Individual exceptions such as modern atheists are no more against this statement than the existence of some blind men is against the statement that "man is endowed with the power of sight". Blind men are abnormalities; in like manner, atheists are abnormalities. The normal man believes in a god or gods. Whether he is right or wrong in this belief is not the point. I am only stating the fact that man does so believe.

And such a belief is, beyond doubt, one of the strongest factors in human behaviour. When men believe in a god, they have feelings of reverence, of fear, of hope, of desire, of adoration. Those feelings are at least as strong as emotions of joy or sorrow, of triumph or of amusement. And just as man has natural external expressions of these latter emotions, so, too, he has natural expression of the former. If he naturally reacts to a hero whom he admires by doing things expressive of welcome, likewise he naturally reacts to a god whom he reveres by doing things expressive of adoration. And it is very interesting to study just what man has done in this way. Let us look at a few samples.

In what is now called Mexico there once dwelt some people called the Aztecs. Quite a lot is known about them, including the fact that they believed in a god with the impossible name of Uitzilopochtli. (He wasn't by any means their only god; they had Quetzalcohuatl and Tezcatlipocha and a few other tongue-twisters!)

The Aztecs built temples in honour of Uitzilopochtli, and furnished each with a large stone slab on top of a pyramid of steps in front of his image. Sometimes, especially after a battle, they would come in a crowd to this temple bringing with them a prisoner-of-war. A man in charge of the proceedings started up some songs and dances; the prisoner was bound and put onto the stone slab; his breast was stabbed with a sharp knife, his heart was ripped out and put in front of the idol, and his body was thrown down the steps to the waiting crowd below. The people rushed at it, hacked off whatever bits they could get, and took them home to cook and eat. To us it seems a most unpleasant and gory business; but the fact remains that to them it was an expression of the worship of their god!

Somewhere in Ireland is a great monolith; the tribes who inhabited those parts long before St. Patrick went there called it Cromm Cruach and believed that it was the dwelling-place of their god. They used to come to this place in a crowd, and brought with them a little baby. They put the baby on a big stone in front of Cromm Cruach; then they walked round the stone and sang things; finally the man in charge killed the baby and sprinkled its blood on the rock and on the people. This was their form of worship!

We know a lot about the Romans - they had no end of gods, Jupiter, Mars, Venus and all the rest of them. Public worship varied to some extent according to which god was being worshipped at what time of the year; but, in general, the people came to the temple of the god concerned and brought something with them - an ox, a goat, or loaves of bread or vessels of oil or wine. There were processions and singing and burning of incense; and the thing brought was killed or burned or poured out as the case may be; and often parts of it were eaten or drunk by those who worshipped.

The Greeks also had lots of gods, such as Zeus, Apollo, Aphrodite and Demeter. Most of them were supposed to live on the top of a mountain called Olympus; and concerning their goings-on up there the less said the better! They were a thoroughly disreputable lot. But they were all worshipped in temples or shrines built in their honour throughout the towns and villages of Greece. What happened in these temples? Various things; but they can be summed up by saying that a sheep or goat or some grapes or corn or olives or oil or wine were poured out or scattered or killed or burned; and in those cases where anything was left over it was eaten or drunk by the crowds.

It would be possible to adduce scores of other instances showing how Arabs and Indians and Slays and Mongols and Africans and Polynesians and Semites and others worshipped whatever gods they believed in, but the above examples should suffice. Always there are local differences, but always there seems to be some "least common denominator", some underlying uniformity of behaviour which springs not from the fact that the worshippers were Aztecs or Britons or Slays or Greeks, but from that factor common to them all, namely, their human nature.

After all, there are both local variations and under-lying uniformity even in such a thing as expressing welcome. Americans wave and shout "Hi-ya!" and throw ticker-tape. We English neither say "Hi-ya" nor do we throw ticker-tape when the Queen drives in state through London. We shout "Hurrah!" and throw nothing. But the point is that we all wave and we all shout. That is human; "Hi-ya" is American and "Hurrah" is English. But waving and shouting are just human.

Then what is national and what is merely human in all these ways of worship we have been thinking about? Whether people worship Uitzilopochtli or Wotan or Zeus, whether they eat human flesh or swine flesh or olives, whether they drink blood or wine or milk at their worship is national. But that they assemble in crowds, that they bring some object with them, do something to it, and then (often) eat and drink of it is not national - that is human. These points of uniformity are found in the behaviour of all peoples; and this shows that in these things are found the completely natural expression of human worship; that to act this way when worshipping is as much rooted in human nature as is to laugh when happy or to cry when sad.

Let us now sum it up. We find that in general, when men desire to worship the god they believe in:

It is clearly (a), (b) and (c) which are absolutely needed to express human worship, for they are found in all cases; (d) seems to belong in the affair as a sort of completion or perfection because it is usually, though not always, to be found. Worship is expressed even without (d), though not so well or so thoroughly expressed as with it.

Now I want you to note carefully two things: firstly, that what I have written is just a description of certain facts about mankind. These facts are not based on the teaching of the Catholic Church, nor on the speculation of philosophers, nor on conjectures as to how men might express worship. They are just facts, and that's all. Man does express worship this way.

Secondly, just as there is a name for the peculiar noises which, as a matter of fact, men do emit when they express amusement (and that name is "laughter"), so also there is a name for the particular performance which, as a matter of fact, men do when they want to express worship. And this name is "sacrifice". If men do (a), (b) and (c), they are sacrificing. If they don't do these, they are not sacrificing. If they do these, but also do (d) as well, then they are sacrificing in a thoroughly complete or perfect manner, which gives the most adequate and satisfactory expression of their worship.

So now we know clearly what sacrifice is.

Our next task is to investigate what sacrifice means. Can we understand why it is that men do precisely this sort of thing rather than some other thing in order to worship whatever god they believe in? How are we to explain that?

We can understand it by observing that in (a), (b) and (c) - the essential actions of sacrifice - we have a particular instance of that very ordinary and intelligible human activity known as "gift-giving". We see that the community is offering a gift to its god. This is but a communal and religious form of gift-giving. So if we study gift-giving in general and understand that, we shall be able to understand that special and religious form of gift-giving known as sacrifice.

Why do people give gifts? They do it to express in action some message to another person. Messages can be expressed in words, of course; but the expression may be more emphatic, more forceful and complete, if it be by action. A man can say to his wife "I love you!" But if, while saying it, he gives her a fur coat or a motor car, she is all the more certain that he means what he says.

What message does the gift express? That depends on circumstances, and the circumstances usually make the message clear even without any words. Suppose a man has been working twenty-five years in the office of some firm, and then retires. And suppose a present arrives at his house (a clock, a radio, a television set) with a mere card bearing the signatures of his fellow-workers in the office. Then he knows perfectly well what message they want to express. They mean "Good-bye! We are sorry you have left us - we shall miss you. We like and respect you; we hope you will enjoy the leisure of your retirement." Or suppose you are sick in hospital, and a large basket of fruit arrives with a card saying "From Mrs. Such-a-body". It is obvious that she is "saying with fruit" that she is sorry you are ill and hopes you will be better soon.

A gift, then, is a material messenger from one person to another; and the circumstances in which it is given make clear what message it expresses.

So when a community of men sacrifice (i.e., give a gift to their god) it is clear what the gift means. They are expressing in action, as forcibly as they know how, that they adore their god. "We worship you," they say; "we thank you; we are sorry if we have done things you would not like; we want your favour; we want to cement the friendship between you and us; we want to be at one with you."

Now let us observe that a gift normally carries with it a deeper meaning than a mere message. The gift stands for the giver. A man who gives a ring to the girl he loves not only means "I love you", but also he means "I want to give myself to you". "I want to be united with you." So, when men give a gift to their god they imply that they want to give themselves; they want to be united to their god. That explains why gifts used for sacrifice were not jewels or gold or silver, but human lives or animal lives or things like food and drink which support life.

Human sacrifices seem to us very horrible; yet the idea behind them is all right. It is merely that this idea has become exaggerated; a perfectly sound instinct - to give to the god that which is most precious - has become distorted. Some primitive peoples realised that human life is the most precious thing men have, and that is why they gave human life in sacrifice. Others, less primitive, realised that human life is not really theirs to dispose of, and so gave instead the life of some animal which was within their dominion. The life of the bull or goat or pig was meant to represent their own life. Or they gave things like food and drink which support human life. But the meaning was the same; they were saying in action "We want to give ourselves to you".

This desire of self-giving, of union, is thus truly expressed by the giving of certain kinds of gifts in certain circumstances like those of sacrifice. It shows that the purpose of sacrifice is to attain union with the god worshipped. But sometimes this expression of the desire for union goes further. Let us look at another example.

Think of a young man who has quarrelled with his girl and is now sorry for his hastiness and wants to make it up. Re hardly dares to call at her house because she might refuse to see him and hear his apology. She is angry. What can he do? He buys the biggest and loveliest box of chocolates he can afford and sends it round to her by a messenger. When she gets it she knows perfectly well what it means. He is saying by his gift, "Darling, I still love you and I am sorry for losing my temper and I do so hope you will forgive me and take me back!" His box of chocolates says that to her much more clearly than any mere letter of apology.

Now what happens? She knows that this gift stands for him. If she rejects it, he will know he is rejected and not forgiven. But if she accepts it, that means she accepts him and forgives him. The bond of love is forged again between them by acceptance of the present which represents him. It would be, therefore, in itself sufficient if she accepts the gift. Its purpose would be achieved by its presentation from him and its acceptance by her. The bond of love is restored.

But in practice things would hardly stop there. Knowing he is forgiven and accepted again, he comes round in person to her house. She receives him and thanks him for his gift; she opens the box and admires the chocolates. Then she does the obvious and natural thing - she holds the box towards him and says "Have one!" So he eats a chocolate, and she eats one, and offers him another and eats another herself . . . and soon they will be snuggled on a couch together with the box between them, eating together that which was his gift to her.

She is giving back to him some of that which is now hers (because she accepted it) and was his (because he gave it). She is sharing with him his own gift to her. And the very fact that they are eating it together draws them together still more in their love and establishes the completeness of their reconciliation.

For, even though the two of them may not think of it, there is a deep meaning behind this utterly natural action of eating together. The gift represented him, and it became hers by acceptance. Now she offers back to him this same gift, so that he too, by eating of it, may become united with it. Hence he, being united (by eating) to his present which is already united (by acceptance) to her, feels that he himself is united with her - is in union with her. They have a common union with the gift because they are both eating it. Thus the sharing of the gift in common is the final stage of the gift-giving which expressed desire for union. So it is called "communion"; it expresses and confirms the common union between them.

Now we can see the meaning of the communal meal which was so often the terminating feature of men's sacrifices. This meal is called "communion", and is a sacrificial banquet. The worshippers sacrifice (give their gift) because they want to forge a bond of union between themselves and their god. To show that their gift is no longer to be theirs but the god's, they make their worship-leader (the priest) put it onto the god's holy place (the altar) and do something to it (such as killing, burning, pouring out) which takes it away from them.

They feel that if their god accepts it, then he accepts them; and the desired bond of friendship is achieved. They can feel that their god is pleased with them and has taken them into his friendship.

But how can they know their god has accepted it? In some cases they just assume this. But in most cases they yearn for some sign that the friendship they believe now to exist is actually confirmed and made definite. So they look to their god to return to them some share in their own present by inviting them to "have some" - like the girl who accepts the chocolates and then invites the donor to "have some". The worshippers, therefore, come up to the altar and "have some". They eat of the gift which they have offered to their god, and feel now that they really are in perfect harmony and union with him. For they, by eating, are attaining union with this gift which is itself in union, by acceptance, with the god they worship.

They are united with the gift; the god is united with the gift; and so they are united with their god. That is what they now believe and feel. That is why the gift-giving of sacrifice finds its completion in the return of the gift that it may be eaten in common by the worshippers. By this means they attain a communal union (communion) with their god.

You will notice that all this is true and according to human nature irrespective of whether the god worshipped is real or imaginary. The men may have completely false notions, thinking that a stone is their god, or that the sun is their god or that Zeus or Jupiter or Baal or Moloch or Shiva or some other figment of human imagination is their god. That is not the point. The point is that even when the god is false, the worship is true. It is based and rooted in human nature. If men believe (correctly or not) in a god, and desire to worship, then this business called sacrifice is what they actually do about it; and they are right to do it. Because this is what they find to be absolutely natural and sincere and satisfying and adequate when they express worship.

So they offer a gift to their god. That is sacrifice. And usually they receive that gift (or part of it) back again that they may eat it. That is communion. Communion rounds off and completes and, as it were, "personalises" the sacrifice by making it each one's very own. It is no longer just something he has watched; it is something he has done - to attain, in common with his fellows, that union with his god which he so much desires.

So far this chapter has dealt with humanity as it is - but with divinity as it is not. All the gods I have talked about were false gods. But they had true worship! Now let us remind ourselves that there does exist the True God - the One True God Whom we are to worship. If we are to give Him true worship we can only do it by sacrifice - for that is the natural human way of worship. And we have got a sacrifice whereby we may do it - the holy sacrifice of the Mass.

I have spent all this time in explaining the nature and meaning of sacrifice because I am convinced that an enormous number of Catholics do not understand the Mass precisely because they do not understand sacrifice. They know the Mass is a sacrifice because they have so often heard these words coupled together. But if one word means little or nothing, the other word will mean little or nothing too! Unless we fully grasp what sacrifice really is, it is of little use knowing the mere sound of the word.

I am hoping, therefore, that by going so thoroughly into the nature and meaning of sacrifice, I shall have laid a good foundation for the understanding of the Mass which is the subject of the chapters to follow.