There are so many things I love about the Easter Vigil I don't know where to start. But let me begin by saying it wasn't 7 hrs long. It was about 3 1/2. I, with my short little legs swinging in discomfort, would have gladly stayed for another 3 1/2 hours. Yeah...it was that awesome.
The vigil begins in total darkness with all the priests outside. At Franciscan that's about 30. The celebrant takes the palms from Palm Sunday and burns them in a fire pit and it is with that flame that he lights the Easter Candle.
We had the giggles, I'm not gonna lie. We'd been sitting in the dark for 15 minutes when the vigil cam came on and we could see them all outside. One of our beloved friars almost caught on fire. We laughed that painful suppressed laughter. It hurt.
So the procession enters and we're all holding little taper candles. The Easter candle lights the ones on the aisles and the room fills with candlelight. It is the light of Christ dispelling the darkness. And we stopped giggling.
Then the priest prays a long chanted prayer called the exultet.
My favorite line:
"O happy fault,
O necessary sin of Adam,
which gained for us so great a Redeemer!"
Most Catholic Masses have three readings. The first from the Old Testament the second from the Epistles and the third is from the Gospels. BUT there are 10 readings at the vigil...and they aren't short. It's wonderful though because you get to see all of salvation history starting with the creation story and going through the significant stories that lead to our redemption: Abraham and Isaac; Moses and the Passover; and all those fabulous prophesies of Isaiah, Baruch, and Ezekiel.
The baptisms and confirmations come next. Unlike some non-Catholic denominations the Catholic Church acknowledges all Christian baptisms. So if an adult is being baptized at the vigil then it means they've never been baptized ever. There were three baptisms last night and they got into this kiddie pool of holy water and were dunked three times as the priest said, "I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."
I have never in my life, at any baptism I've attended, witness a reaction like I did last night. After person #1 came up out of the water for the last time, the entire room erupted into thunderous cheers and clapping. Franciscan really knows how to welcome new members the family of God. It was so moving. And I thought the cheers would lessen as the other two came into the Church - but no. We hooted and hollered for 10 minutes straight I think. Truly awesome.
The the rest of the Mass is celebrated and we get to go to the all-night resurrection party. There was live music performed by students...each band would take turns. The first one was awesome and played a little of everything. The next was a girl band that I couldn't hear very well. It was fun till I started to feel old. Then a friend and I went to WallMart at 2am. (there was a party tomorrow/today and we had to get the fixin's we promised to bring) and there was this big black guy wandering around saying Happy Easter to everyone. I thought he might be a homeless guy (although I don't see many of them around here, come to think of it) since he didn't look like he was shopping and stopped to talk to all the stock boys who seemed to know who he was. Then this woman in orange hose and a black and orange dress walked by him with a full cart and said, "let's go." I almost burst out laughing right in front of them. I was slap happy again. When we were done, Jill and I went back to campus to see what the party was doing...it was only 3am and people were clearing out. What part of "ALL-NIGHT" did they not understand?!
Anyway,
All in all, Franciscan University of Steubenville earned every bit of Holy Week hype. That said, I attribute it mostly to my Lent, and to the things that God is doing in my own life. He is healing me...slowly. I have spent these 40 days recognizing my shortcomings and my powerlessness over the circumstances that created them. I am learning patience as well. I would very much like God to snap his fingers and heal me...right now. But what good would that do me? How can I unite myself to Christ's suffering if I'm not willing to feel pain in the refining process? He doesn't always take away the pain ... he just makes it worth it...because after this death...
is resurrection.
Alleluia
Sunday, March 23, 2008
BTW...
The time stamp on the post below says 12:28. It is in fact 3:45am. I tried to last till the sun came up but all the undergrads were going home. WEENIES!!!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Good Friday
I wrote a feature story for the paper about the student-run liturgy committee. The student head of liturgy says she got like 3 hours of sleep during the Triduum last year. That's intense. And basically what I tried to do was let people know the committee exists without shining a spotlight on them. They see it as a ministry and they do it out of love for God. The members that I interviewed were humble servant types, not inclined to pat themselves on the back. So I tried to write a story that respected their man-behind-the-curtain presence. One of those people is my friend Anne. She is in charge of art and environment. Basically she and her partner do their best to make the field house (a place where sweaty guys bounce a ball back and forth) look like a place of worship. It is no easy feat.
But when I walked into the Good Friday Liturgy I was dumbstruck. Nothing but the stage/altar was decorated. If I were to look at it critically I would acknowledge that the fieldhouse ambiance was still there and even the faint smell of rubber and sweat still hung in the air. But I was there to meditate on the death of Christ. So all those things faded and I saw the stage piled with bricks and stones. These natural textures and colors gave the appearance of half walled city and half rocky hillside. My favorite part of the display was the broken pots on pedestals. There wasn't a crucifix with a bloody Jesus...just huge broken vessels of clay next to a big wooden cross. It was simple and yet it communicated clearly.
The veneration of the cross during the Good Friday service is something that my previously evangelical self couldn't wrap my brain around. Why do people kiss this piece of wood that isn't really the cross? Jesus died for my sin and it's done, why do people get in line like cattle to kiss this thing. It seemed meaningless to me.
But last night I had a bit of an epiphany...
One thing I remember about being away from the Church is the spirituality of evangelicalism. It always seemed an intangible thing, my salvation. I would pray and believe that God heard me because the bible said He did. I would pray and listen for The Voice, which rarely came. I would wait for the stirring of my spirit/emotions and when they remained unmoved, I would feel defeated and incapable of these basic practices of spirituality.
I'm a sensual person and being someone who's love language is physical touch, I have often railed at God for not giving me the husband I thought I should have. I've often cried about being lonely and not having a physical person to love me. I know we're supposed to fall in love with Jesus and all that, but Jesus can't curl up on the couch with you, ya know? "It's just not the same," I'd say, shaking my fist at the ceiling.
I realized last night that this Church of mine has provided a way for me to experience God with my body. I understood this in theory but last night the understanding made a free-fall into my heart. As I stood in line (like cattle) I realized that I couldn't wait to use this body of mine to bend and venerate the cross. To feel the wood on my lips for a fraction of a second. To kneel and feel the hard gym floor on my knees. To bow as the Blessed Sacrament was brought in. To smell the incense and to see the smoke of our prayers rising to heaven. To let the physical motions of my body become acts of worship in and of themselves.
Whew...it's amazing because then my emotions come -- in their proper order -- as a by product of worship. I do not worship because I am emotionally moved to do so, I worship because God is God.
Tonight is the vigil. It is one of my favorite celebrations of the whole year. From what I've heard it's 7 hours long. It is followed by an all-night resurrection party. If I can make it, I'm brining my camera to take a picture of the sun coming up on Easter morning....
But I'm not making any promises.
But when I walked into the Good Friday Liturgy I was dumbstruck. Nothing but the stage/altar was decorated. If I were to look at it critically I would acknowledge that the fieldhouse ambiance was still there and even the faint smell of rubber and sweat still hung in the air. But I was there to meditate on the death of Christ. So all those things faded and I saw the stage piled with bricks and stones. These natural textures and colors gave the appearance of half walled city and half rocky hillside. My favorite part of the display was the broken pots on pedestals. There wasn't a crucifix with a bloody Jesus...just huge broken vessels of clay next to a big wooden cross. It was simple and yet it communicated clearly.
The veneration of the cross during the Good Friday service is something that my previously evangelical self couldn't wrap my brain around. Why do people kiss this piece of wood that isn't really the cross? Jesus died for my sin and it's done, why do people get in line like cattle to kiss this thing. It seemed meaningless to me.
But last night I had a bit of an epiphany...
One thing I remember about being away from the Church is the spirituality of evangelicalism. It always seemed an intangible thing, my salvation. I would pray and believe that God heard me because the bible said He did. I would pray and listen for The Voice, which rarely came. I would wait for the stirring of my spirit/emotions and when they remained unmoved, I would feel defeated and incapable of these basic practices of spirituality.
I'm a sensual person and being someone who's love language is physical touch, I have often railed at God for not giving me the husband I thought I should have. I've often cried about being lonely and not having a physical person to love me. I know we're supposed to fall in love with Jesus and all that, but Jesus can't curl up on the couch with you, ya know? "It's just not the same," I'd say, shaking my fist at the ceiling.
I realized last night that this Church of mine has provided a way for me to experience God with my body. I understood this in theory but last night the understanding made a free-fall into my heart. As I stood in line (like cattle) I realized that I couldn't wait to use this body of mine to bend and venerate the cross. To feel the wood on my lips for a fraction of a second. To kneel and feel the hard gym floor on my knees. To bow as the Blessed Sacrament was brought in. To smell the incense and to see the smoke of our prayers rising to heaven. To let the physical motions of my body become acts of worship in and of themselves.
Whew...it's amazing because then my emotions come -- in their proper order -- as a by product of worship. I do not worship because I am emotionally moved to do so, I worship because God is God.
Tonight is the vigil. It is one of my favorite celebrations of the whole year. From what I've heard it's 7 hours long. It is followed by an all-night resurrection party. If I can make it, I'm brining my camera to take a picture of the sun coming up on Easter morning....
But I'm not making any promises.
We Inerrupt This Triduum With a Special Report
Bandolino Jeans are the BEST jeans ever. Before last fall I thought Bandolino only made shoes...beautiful shoes that I've always wanted to own. But I was in Macy's last fall and found that they made jeans too. And they are the best jeans ever! They fit curvy women like me without being big in the waist! That's a freakin' miracle.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Holy Thursday and the Mass of the Lord's Supper
I came home after benediction last night and my roommate was watching EWTN (bad Catholic TV.) Pope Benedict the XVI was washing feet
I never thought, after all those years dabbling in evangelicalism, that I would love liturgy. At one time these rituals of Catholicism seemed rigid and void of genuine, spontaneous worship. I have found that spontaneity is highly overrated and that the lack of it does not hinder genuine worship. In fact quite the opposite is true.
The liturgy, quite simply, is. The worship is. Neither is dependent on the abilities of the musicians or the mood lighting or the drums. It doesn't matter how "in tune with the Spirit" the worship leader is. Even my own disposition is not a factor. God is worshiped regardless. I can participate, or I can just show up and be present. What makes it different from our praise and worship nights is that the pressure is off. I don't have to worry about "getting into it" because "it" does not require "getting into." It is enjoyed more fully the more actively and consciously I participate, surely, but "it" doesn't require it.
Also, when each movement of music, or the body happens, it is for a reason. People who don't understand laugh about the standing/sitting/kneeling/sitting/kneeling. But they are each done for reasons that one can choose to remember, or not. I will never not kneel during the consecration again. (Fieldhouse liturgies being the only exception as there is barely enough room to stand sometimes.) If the parish I'm at doesn't have kneelers I will kneel on the ground. Not because I'm holy or anything but because the One who is Holy is present. At that moment I am transported in time to the foot of the cross.
Holy CRAP that is awesome!
Don't get me wrong, I'm all about some rowdy praise and worship (I am still part charismatic after all) but these days of solemn joy are not the same without the rich tradition of our rituals and their deep meaning.
After Mass was a candlelight procession that followed the Blessed Sacrament to the chapel for adoration...and then Benediction. After that, all the tabernacles in the world are empty and Good Friday begins.
Wednesday Night
Lent comes to a close with the celebration of Tenebrae, a solemn night-time prayer service. It is chanted partially in Latin and ends in darkness. I have no idea what anything means but it is beautiful. The deepest meaning and mystery of The Passion is ultimately beyond my understanding anyway. I sit and allow the beauty of the music and the smell of the incense to turn my gaze to Christ. After each song is chanted, one of the many candles is extinguished until we are in darkness.
It is the beginning of the Holy Triduum, (Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday) the highest holy days of Christianity.
It is the beginning of the Holy Triduum, (Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday) the highest holy days of Christianity.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
The Adventures of Holy Week, Franciscan Style
Happy Holy Week Kids!
We are now entering the highest holy days of Christianity. I have heard the rumors of Holy Week at Franciscan University. I have heard that "you haven't experienced holy week until you've celebrated it at FUS." That's quite a promise. I've been excited...though it's been cautious excitement because frankly, the claims are bordering on mythical. We shall see.
So far, Palm Sunday was awesome. And right now I'm on my way to the all campus confession. Not to be confused with general absolution (I think that's what it's called ) where the priest absolves everyone in the room. A quick sign of the cross and BAM! we're absolved. But not tonight...tonight we all stand in line till there's a priest open. I sort of feel like I should have gotten in line this morning with a sleeping bag and a lawn chair. I told one of my friends that we should bring a cooler. How cool would that be...and we'd leave with no sin on our soul which is often different from other situations that involve sleeping bags, lawn chairs and coolers.
I'll let everyone know how it goes!
May your week be holy
We are now entering the highest holy days of Christianity. I have heard the rumors of Holy Week at Franciscan University. I have heard that "you haven't experienced holy week until you've celebrated it at FUS." That's quite a promise. I've been excited...though it's been cautious excitement because frankly, the claims are bordering on mythical. We shall see.
So far, Palm Sunday was awesome. And right now I'm on my way to the all campus confession. Not to be confused with general absolution (I think that's what it's called ) where the priest absolves everyone in the room. A quick sign of the cross and BAM! we're absolved. But not tonight...tonight we all stand in line till there's a priest open. I sort of feel like I should have gotten in line this morning with a sleeping bag and a lawn chair. I told one of my friends that we should bring a cooler. How cool would that be...and we'd leave with no sin on our soul which is often different from other situations that involve sleeping bags, lawn chairs and coolers.
I'll let everyone know how it goes!
May your week be holy
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