April 22, 2011

• Holy Thursday

   

  My favorite time of the year: the Triduum.

  Holy Week.

  If one were to see the Mass as the Wedding Feast of the Lamb (which it is) and the Church as a Bride (which she is!), for me it is like Daily Mass would be the Bride running up the aisle in her jogging clothes, just having arrived. Though she is dressed plainly, simply and is somewhat on-the-go she is no less beautiful for it and the Feast no less satisfying. But it is brief, to the point, and once it is over you are off and running. Daily Mass is surely the Passover ideal: eat with your loins girt, sandals on, staff in hand, ready to get back to work.

  Sunday Mass is the family meal where once a week all your relatives from around the local area gather at whoever has the biggest house. The Bride wears a nice Sunday dress and is gorgeous as always and really takes some care not only in what is being served but also in the presentation. Sunday Mass is a bit longer than Daily Mass, especially since there is usually music and a slightly longer homily, plus an extra reading and more people who receive the Eucharist. Sunday Mass is the highlight of the week, something to look forward to.

  A Feast Day, in particular a Solemnity (basically a major feast) like, Christ the King, Corpus Christi, The Assumption of Mary (a personal favorite!) is a bit more magnificent. It is like a Sunday Mass that falls on a different day of the week though some dioceses and parishes are given permission to move the feast to the Sunday after so that more people can come and celebrate. Depending on the occasion there will be certain songs sung, certain prayers, liturgical colors (normally white), and other special touches. These liturgies are like family get-togethers that take place once a year for very special occasions, like the birthday of a grandparent, a wedding anniversary. Actually, I think Thanksgiving would be a good comparison. It isn’t the biggest family gathering of the year and perhaps not the fanciest, nicest meal, but it is a step above the Sunday meal. The Bride is wearing that special dress she only wears on certain occasions and she is just glowing, singing to herself as she goes about serving all her guests. What a pity there are so few solemnities in the year!

  Christmas is a massive feast, possibly having become the most anticipated and celebrated one of the year. A huge banquet, ancient and cherished traditions, special music we only sing once a year, a glorious liturgy, and memories that tug at our hearts. It is joyful; how could you not love a little baby, especially since we already know His future? The Bride is wearing her best dress, her hair is done specially for the occasion, and there hasn’t yet been a feast to match this one. This is more than a simple family affair; all the friends and neighbors come to this as well.

  But the Triduum–Holy Thursday, Good Friday and the Easter Vigil–this is all quite different. You see, we have three distinct celebrations but, really, it is all one massive liturgy. All three celebrations blend into one another, leading us through the Last Supper, the Lord’s Passion and Death, the quiet of the tomb and the sudden, eye-popping, heart-stopping magnificence of the Resurrection.

   

  Yesterday was a day of special greatness. 

  Firstly was the Chrism Mass, which traditionally takes place on morning Holy Thursday, though some dioceses celebrate it earlier. This Mass is wonderful because priests from all over come to concelebrate, and it is during this liturgy that the oils used for baptism (oil of catechumens), anointing of the sick and the special, perfumed chrism used for the three-fold purpose of anointing the confirmed, ordaining a priest and consecrating a bishop are blessed. At the Cathedral Basilica nearly the whole place was filled with over fifty seminarians, some Domincans and Jesuits in studies (including myself), goodness knows HOW many priests (easily two hundred) not only from the archdiocese but also from various religious orders, nuns and sisters, hundreds of Catholic school children in their uniforms, and hundreds more lay people. In the sanctuary was the archbishop, two auxiliary bishops and even a mitered abbot from the local Benedictine abbey. The choir filled the whole, massive space with glorious music and it was all just absolutely spectacular.

  Most moving was the part of the Mass when all the priests renew their promises. The archbishop asks:

  “My brothers, today we celebrate the memory of the first Eucharist, at which our Lord Jesus Christ shared with his apostles and with us his call to the priestly service of His Church. Now, in the presence of your bishop and God’s holy people, are you ready to renew your own dedication to Christ as priests of His new covenant?”

  The many priests assembled say, “I am.”

  “At your ordination you accepted the responsibilities of the priesthood out of love for the Lord Jesus and His Church. Are you resolved to unite yourselves more closely to Christ and to try to become more like Him by joyfully sacrificing your own pleasure and ambition to bring his peace and love to your brothers and sisters?

  “I am.”

  “Are you resolved to be faithful ministers of the mysteries of God, to celebrate the Eucharist and the other liturgical services with sincere devotion? Are you resolved to imitate Jesus Christ, the head and shepherd of the Church, by teaching the Christian faith without thinking of your own profit, solely for the well-being of the people you were sent to serve?”

  “I am.”

  And to the rest of the people present the archbishop asks:

  “My brothers and sisters, pray for your priests. Ask the Lord to bless them with the fullness of his love, to help them be faithful ministers of Christ the High Priest, so that they will be able to lead you to Him, the fountain of your salvation.”

  We all pray: “Lord Jesus Christ, hear us and answer our prayer.”

  “Pray also for me that despite my own unworthiness I may faithfully fulfill the office of apostle which Jesus Christ entrusted to me. Pray that I may become more like our High Priest and Good Shepherd, the teacher and servant of all, and so be a genuine sign of Christ’s loving presence among you.”

  “Lord Jesus Christ, hear us and answer our prayer.

  “May the Lord in his love keep you close to Him always, and may He bring all of us, his priests and people, to eternal life.”

  “Amen.”

   

  Later that day my brothers and I returned to the Cathedral to prepare for the Mass of the Lord’s Supper.

  What a Mass! There was the Bride in her wedding dress, veiled and glorious though shrouded in mystery. It was all so solemn yet joyful, and my goodness what a brilliant grace it was to sing the Gloria again! During the season of Lent the Gloria is only sung on Solemnities so this year it was twice: the Feast of St. Joseph, Husband of Mary and the Feast of the Annunciation. Ah to have the organ thundering and the choir crying out “Glory to God, glory in the highest/peace to His people, peace on earth!”

  After this, however, all the music was done, beautifully, a capella. Everything quickly took a turn from exuberant to solemn (not sad, mind you, but sort of bittersweet); even the bell that is rung to signal particularly important moments during the Eucharistic liturgy is replaced by a sort of wooden clapper that makes a loud, unsettling “clack! clack!” And so the table was set, the meal prepared, the Bride still glowing and beautiful standing by as she awaited the Groom and thus He came and stood beside her. 

  And then.

  Once the guests had partaken of the feast, just before the Bride and Groom exchanged their rings, a strange thing happens. The Groom is taken away.

  The ciborium, which is sort of like a golden chalice with a lid upon it, is a special vessel in which we keep the Blessed Sacrament. Were you to open a tabernacle, this is what you would see. It is also often brought out during the Mass, right before communion, in case more Hosts are needed so that Christ may be with each person present, and likewise in which to reserve whatever is not consumed (since you do not simply put the Body of Christ back with the normal bread, nor do you toss Him out!). 

  At the end of this Mass, however, the archbishop dons a humeral veil (a large cape-like vestment), takes the ciborium, wraps it up within some of the veil, and follows a long solemn procession through the cathedral, led by the choir which sings:

  PANGE, lingua, gloriosi Corporis mysterium, Sanguinisque pretiosi, quem in mundi pretium fructus ventris generosi Rex effudit Gentium.	SING, my tongue, the Savior’s glory, of His flesh the mystery sing; of the Blood, all price exceeding, shed by our immortal King, destined, for the world’s redemption, from a noble womb to spring.
  Nobis datus, nobis natus ex intacta Virgine, et in mundo conversatus, sparso verbi semine, sui moras incolatus miro clausit ordine.	Of a pure and spotless Virgin born for us on earth below, He, as Man, with man conversing, stayed, the seeds of truth to sow; then He closed in solemn order wondrously His life of woe.
  In supremae nocte cenae recumbens cum fratribus observata lege plene cibis in legalibus, cibum turbae duodenae se dat suis manibus.	On the night of that Last Supper, seated with His chosen band, He the Pascal victim eating, first fulfills the Law’s command; then as Food to His Apostles gives Himself with His own hand.
  Verbum caro, panem verum verbo carnem efficit: fitque sanguis Christi merum, et si sensus deficit, ad firmandum cor sincerum sola fides sufficit.	Word-made-Flesh, the bread of nature by His word to Flesh He turns; wine into His Blood He changes;- what though sense no change discerns? Only be the heart in earnest, faith her lesson quickly learns.
  Tantum ergo Sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui: praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui.	Down in adoration falling, Lo! the sacred Host we hail; Lo! o’er ancient forms departing, newer rites of grace prevail; faith for all defects supplying, where the feeble sense fail.
  Genitori, Genitoque laus et iubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. Amen.	To the everlasting Father, and the Son who reigns on high, with the Holy Ghost proceeding forth from Each eternally, be salvation, honor, blessing, might and endless majesty. Amen.

   Here is a sample: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rF1rGoJJmo&feature=related

  The procession eventually leads to the Blessed Sacrament Chapel, the archbishop then placing the ciborium inside the tabernacle. Dozens of lit candles fill the room, tiled from floor to ceiling in golden mosaics, with light. The rest of the Cathedral is plunged into darkness, the altar is stripped of its linens, plants and flowers are removed, any crucifix and many statues are veiled and all is left bare. Imagine if you were are a large celebration and, just after you’d finished eating, a mob came, took away the guest of honor, and took everything away.

  More devastating yet, imagine a wedding at which the priest says “You may now kiss the bride” and just as the couple leans in to kiss, right before their lips touch, the Groom is spirited away by brutish men all in black. This is the feeling of the end of this particular Mass. Oftentimes, for example, this liturgy will be followed by a prayer service, all candlelit in a dark place, called tenebrae, at the end of which there is a period of time when a huge racket is made–in this case all the seminarians pound books along the backs of their seats, filling the space with quite a thunderous sound–and then it suddenly stops. The end. Go home.

   

  I don’t know about you, but were I that Bride or were I in attendance, I’d go looking for the Groom! 

   

  Wouldn’t you know that there is just that kind of tradition in the Church? Of course there is!

  So a group of my Jesuit brothers as well as a few friends piled into a big 15-passenger van and went about the city to visit seven different churches and to pray for a few minutes with Our Lord, the main tabernacle of every church with their door hanging open, empty, sad in a way, while a side chapel or some special place was set up on the side where the faithful may go and find Him. It was so much fun driving around in the sad, cold rain, knowing that Our Lord has been taken away and is being led closer and closer to the Cross of Good Friday, searching for Him and, unlike His terrified apostles, finding Him everywhere we look. We did this from after the two-hour Mass (around 9:30pm) until about 11:45, at which time we went to get a bit to eat before the day of fasting began.

   

  Today we spent the morning in prayerful reflection (or trying to write a reflective blog entry for you!), and this afternoon at 3pm I will be at the Cathedral Basilica again for the Good Friday service. Here the Bride will be dressed in mourning, having traded white for black, no less beautiful but her joy so very dim. There is NO MASS on this day; it is the only day of the year when the Mass is not celebrated (otherwise, around the world, throughout the 23 churches all in communion with one another, Mass is celebrated in every language around 300,000 times a day, and even more often on Sundays!). Instead we receive communion, being given the Body of Christ as it was consecrated the day previous, again having the grace of being with Him on this day whereas His apostles were left with nothing. Today is a day of fasting, a day of quiet and if you are in St. Louis, a day of clouds, rain and storm. I will try and post later about the Good Friday service this evening. God bless all of you this sad day, and remember what He suffered not so that you would owe Him anything, but simply because He loves you…

  • 10:53 am
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