When the Lord God designed His temple, it had two rooms: an outer room and an inner room. The outer room was called the “Holy Place.” It had candlesticks, a table for the bread presented to God, and an altar of incense when the sacrifice was offered. The inner room was the heart of the temple. It was a separate room which only one person could enter, once a year. That room was called the “Holy of Holies” or the “Most Holy Place.” It held the Ark of the Covenant, which contained the types of Christ: the Word of God in the Ten Commandments; the Bread from Heaven in the manna; and the symbol of the Virgin Birth in the walking staff that miraculously flowered.
Every day, morning and evening, one priest entered the “Holy Place” to pray while other priests offered the sacrifices outside. And once a year, on the Day of Atonement, only the high priest entered the “Most Holy Place,” to pray while offering the blood of redemption from the sacrifice.
Where were the people during all of this? They were not in either room (not in the “Holy Place” or the “Most Holy Place”) but outside waiting as the priest or high priest said the prayers. Since the temple was its own building, and had separate rooms, no one heard the priest’s prayers. They simply said their own prayers while the priest offered his prayer.
Now, the people did not think this strange, or think they were not participating, or feel they were purposefully being excluded or placed on a lower level. In fact, in some respects, they were glad to keep distance from the Lord. For when the Lord visited His people on the morning of the third day at Mount Sinai, before giving the Commandments, all the people trembled. They had been told beforehand to purify and consecrate themselves, but even still they were certainly pleased when the Lord set boundaries between them and Him on the mountain, so that only Moses and the consecrated priests could draw near to approach Him.
This, then, was the liturgical setting in the Old Testament: during the sacrifice, and especially during the holiest parts on the holiest day, the priest prayed for the people, and the people could not hear those prayers. And why was this? Let me suggest that the Lord designed the temple this way in order to create a little distance between Himself and His people. Not that He wanted to be distant from them in relationship, but that He knew that too much familiarity breeds contempt, and distance fosters godly respect.
As you know, when Christ died, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. That veil was the heavy curtain that hung between the “Holy Place” and the “Most Holy Place.” So now, in effect, those two places were merged. There was no longer a separation between the daily place of prayer and incense, and the place for the annual redemption prayers. This meant at least two things: first, Christ the High Priest was now present in priest who approached the Altar and Tabernacle; and second, the daily sacrifices and prayers now became the prayers of redemption which daily purify and forgive worshippers.
St Paul suggests that the tearing the veil also means that the offering of Christ Himself, as both High Priest and Sacrifice, is a heavenly action that takes place on earth. In other words, the people no longer stand outside while the priest prays; now they can stand near the priest, near the “Most Holy Place,” looking in as the priest, in the person of Christ, prays for them and himself.
But these prayers may still be quietly said. And the notion of some sort of separation between the “Most Holy Place” and the “Holy Place” may still be maintained.
And how might this be done? In two ways. First, in all churches, East and West, there has always been a boundary between where the clergy serve and where the people stand. In the Eastern churches, this boundary is the icon-stand (iconostas) which, in some places, grew ever taller and more permanent. In the Western churches, this boundary is the communion rail which, like the iconostas, includes a gate. This boundary between clergy and faithful does not declare that the clergy are better than the people, or that they have more power or closeness to God. In fact, this boundary is not at all about clergy and people. Rather, it maintains a respectful distance between God and man; between His place and our place; and between the Most Holy Gifts He bestows and the meager gifts we bring.
Much could be said about how good it is, psychologically and spiritually, to have this distance; and the many ways we instinctively maintain this distance; and the several things the clergy must do to prepare to enter this “Most Holy Place.” Among these would be the still common practice that one seeks a blessing from the bishop or priest before entering the altar. Again, all these practices are not designed to discriminate between types of humans, but to remind us that we enter the Lord’s presence and His space with reverence and a purified heart.
A second way the distinction between “Holy Place” and “Most Holy Place” is still maintained has to do with how the priest uses his voice.
Everyone knows that we speak differently, quietly, when we are in a funeral home. It’s a sign of respect for the dead and for those who mourn. We also keep moments of silence when there is a tragedy, so that we can offer prayers but also so that we show respect for the victims. The same holds true when a very important person enters a room or is about to speak. We understand we quiet down and enter into silence out of respect for the office that person holds.
The same holds true, I suggest, during the Mass. When we are in the presence of God, especially when the priest has entered into the “Most Holy Place” in order to offer the most holy prayers during the most holy action, not only should things quiet down (as they do), but the priest also lowers his voice. And why does he do this? It is not to create distance between the priest and the people. It is not to cut the people out of the action, so to speak. It is, rather, to show respect to our Lord. And to teach each of us—and most especially the priest—that this action, this moment, this sacrifice, is the greatest respect we can offer to God.
So, like the High Priest entering into the “Most Holy Place,” the priest enters by lowing his voice. Like the High Priest entering a separate room to pray prayers no one else hears, the priest lowers his voice. Like Christ the High Priest having an intimate conversation with His Father about His self-sacrifice, the priest lowers his voice.
And in doing so, the priest quiets the room and gives every one of us space, and time, and place, to do what Our Lord asks: to go into the secret room of our own hearts and shut the door mentally and pray to your Father quietly, in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.