The Paschal Mystery Version 2014

We are in the midst of the Easter Season.  During this time, the neophytes who were baptized on Holy Saturday night are continuing their faith formation in what's known as the Mystagogia period, as they ponder the mystery they celebrated during the Triduum and at their baptism.

And I find myself pondering this mystery, having been renewed in it so powerfully.  The Paschal Triduum is definitely my favorite time of the liturgical year.  These three sacred days are at the heart of what it means to be Christian, and that's why I value so greatly the opportunity to participate in the liturgies that allow me to experience once again Christ's Paschal Mystery, which is not something that happened to Christ once upon a time many years ago, but is something happening all the time in the lives of His people.

I have heard it said that the best way to observe the Triduum is to let the liturgies speak for themselves.  As I think about that insight, I ponder how God spoke to me through this past Triduum 2014.  I certainly have my favorite moments that I especially look forward to each year during the Triduum.  But for this reflection, I shall focus on a few select moments when something spoke to me in a new way:

On Maundy Thursday evening, I felt myself uplifted with the opening hymn, "We Should Glory in the Cross of the Lord Jesus Christ".  The lyrics fully speak to what is celebrated in these three days.

Then came the foot washing liturgy.  Somehow, this year, witnessing this ritual allowed me to see it anew as a powerful symbol for how we serve one another in the love that Christ commands of His disciples.  It is a symbol lived out in the many ways we serve, and that made me think about all the opportunities I've had to serve in the parish community and elsewhere in the past few months.

The other song sung during this Mass that is one of my Triduum highlights comes at the conclusion: "Pange Lingua" is sung when the consecrated bread is carried in procession to the side altar tabernacle.  The song acclaims Christ's sacred body, which is part of the New Covenant in which we stand.  Hearing the hauntingly beautiful and mystical melody flowing with the words that spoke of the New Covenant in Christ's sacred body and blood struck an emotional chord in me enough that I felt tears well up in my eyes.

The next day, on Cross Friday, I went over to St. Mary of Celle Parish in northern Berwyn in the afternoon for their liturgy commemorating the Passion of Christ.  I would go to this same liturgy at Ascension later in the evening that day, but at this afternoon liturgy, the principle part of the service was a reenactment of the Passion of Jesus Christ.  St. Mary of Celle is a bilingual parish, so the words of the Passion were in both English and Spanish, as was the rest of the service.

It started out in the Church, with the agony in Gethsemane, and then up until the condemnation of Jesus, and His being led out to Calvary.  At that point, everyone in the Church went outside, and then followed Jesus with the Cross as it rounded the streets around the parish.  There were stops made along the way for readings, prayers, and songs, which were in accordance with some of the Stations of the Cross.  A car moved slowly along in the procession, where the musicians were positioned inside, and speakers sounded out their music.  This procession, in following the way of the Cross, spoke greatly to how we live the Paschal Mystery for ourselves in our present age, in our own lives.

We then went back into the Church for the scene of the crucifixion.  After the reenactment ended, we had the opportunity to venerate the Cross, the same one used in the crucifixion reenactment, representing the instrument God used to win our salvation.

The participants in the reenactment did a masterful job, especially given all the logistics involved in using both the church sanctuary and the surrounding streets to stage it all.

Later, in the evening, I went to the Liturgy of the Passion of the Lord at Ascension.  I was one of the readers for the Gospel proclamation, which is the Passion narrative from John.  As I always do when I have a lectoring engagement, I take time to look over the reading,  and practice it, taking heed of suggestions for proclamation in my lector workbook.  I proclaimed the part of John 18 from the verse 1 until Jesus was led away from the Garden.  I looked over the suggestions, and colored the tone of words and gave the words other dynamics as I prepared.

The next night, at the reception after the Easter Vigil, a woman came up to me and complimented me on my reading on Friday evening.  She then added that the story of Jesus's crucifixion is a hard one to deal with, but the way it was read helped in processing it and gave it meaning.  And that is exactly what I sought out to do, add meaning to this sorrowful, but important story.  Jesus could not rise from the dead if He didn't die first, which is why Easter Sunday can't be appreciated without Good Friday.  Furthermore, the commentary in the lector workbook enlightened me about John's overarching purpose in His Gospel, which is reflected in the way the Passion narrative is crafted.  John takes the perspective that Jesus was fully aware of His part in God's plan of salvation, and willingly accepted it, mounting up on the Cross as if He was sitting down on His throne.  Some of the other verbage in John's Passion narrative shows that Jesus is fully aware of what's happening, and fully accepting of it.  (That's why the Passion narrative in John doesn't include the agony in Gethsemane.  The synoptic Gospels include that to show how Jesus had to struggle to accept His sufferings as part of God's plan.)

The other part of Friday's liturgy that struck me anew was the very solemn nature of the Intercessions.  They are very ritualized, and I felt moved inwardly as I went through the gestures of kneeling and standing, singing the chant of Kyrie Eleison, and hearing the chant of the second part of the prayers by Father Bob, the presider, after the reading of the first part of the intercession.

At the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday night, I noticed how dark the church remained right up until the Epistle reading from Romans, which I hadn't every really noticed as much before, thinking the lights came on more gradually.  We were truly anticipating the coming of the Great and Glorious Light.

After the reading from Romans, there was a silence.  I actively waited in it, knowing that something great was about to happen; so I really took in that silence.  Then, the church bells started ringing, and the congregation rose as David Anderson, the music director, started up leading us in the Great Alleluia acclamation.  Hearing that drawn out "Alleluia" struck an emotional chord in me strongly, and tears welled in my eyes.  We had come again to that great and joyful moment of celebration, acclaiming Christ Risen, who once was dead, and we ourselves, once dead, and in the process of dying to ourselves through Lenten practices, rising to Life Anew in Him.

Later on in the service, the pastoral associate, a great guy named David Philippart, asked my Dad and I to help pass out the baskets for the collection.  That took me to the back of Church, where all the money is put in one big basket, and then taken up with the elements that are to be consecrated.  The four newly baptized adults were in back, ready to take up the gifts.

I had gotten involved with their journey toward the font when David P. had invited me as fully communicated Roman Catholic to come to their faith formation meetings on Sundays to join in their discussions of the Scriptures and faith.  It was a distinct pleasure getting to know them along the way, and then to see them receive the sacraments of Initiation in that great celebration on that Holy Saturday night, becoming new Creations in Christ.  So I made good of this opportunity to hug them as a sign of congratulations and welcome into their new Life in Christ in His Church.  In the midst of all the ritual and pomp of the Triduum liturgies, this was one of the more personal moments that I relished.  (Earlier that day, when I attended Morning Prayer, all those present gathered around the altar, and then laid hands on the heads of the elect, as a sign of support and blessing.)

Later on in the service, I served as a Eucharistic minister.  As someone who recently started in this ministry, it was special to have this opportunity to participate in ministering the elements that are part of what we saw now as a great victory feast, having celebrated Christ's Resurrection.

The next morning, on Resurrection Sunday, everything was so alive at Church.  There was excitement in the air, and even the Church seemed to be more full of light than usual.  Even those who had been at Church for so many hours over the past few days and were exhausted from the night before were upbeat.  And the weather outside made it feel all the more delightful.  It was a beautiful celebration, so full of a sense of aliveness.  And I was pretty active, serving as thurifer, swinging about the thurible with the incense as we offered our praises to the victorious Risen Christ.  (When I went up for Communion, David P. handed me the cup ritually, and after I partook, he told me to go minister it.)

In the recessional, I carried one of the special parish banners out.  When the three of us banner-bearers reached the back of Church, we paused, not really sure where to go next.  Then one of the others said we should go outside.  So we did, and stood there at the doors as the jubilant throngs streamed out into the wonderfully warm, sunny morning.  Father Bob, who presided at the Mass I attended, handed out candy to the children, and there was another Franciscan priest there, in his habit, and donning bunny ears on his head.

In the midst of all these celebrations, a thought came to my mind:  In His unfolding plan of salvation for us, celebrated so intensely and richly during these three days, God truly showed His great love for us.  Love was truly present when Christ gave us of His Body and Blood.  Love was truly present when Christ suffered and died on the Cross.  Love was truly present when Christ rose again to new life.  Christ took His part in this plan of salvation that had been unfolding since sin entered the world, and brought it to a sense of fulfillment, and love was truly present.

Now alive in Life Anew with Christ, we possess this love within us, even as the Holy Spirit moves in us to love as God loves, which we have the opportunity to celebrate as God's promise and gift to us later on during the Feasts of the Ascension and Pentecost.

Love is truly at the heart of this great mystery, which has freed us from sin, and now given us this new life, now in Christ, who is God, who is Love.

So as the words of the opening antiphon for Maundy Thursday so powerfully acclaim, we glory in the Cross of Jesus Christ, our Savior, because He is our Life and Resurrection, who has truly saved and freed us.