Easter Day Services

The church was jam packed with parishioners today. I stepped out of the sacristy for a brief moment and so many people wanted me to bless medals, to give them holy water, or to schedule appointments. I scurried my way back to the sanctuary of the sacristy.

Still tired from the three hour service in a foreign language last night, it was now time to go forward. Before last night's mass, I received word we were sending my mother to the hospital to combat pneumonia, so I tried to be as prayerful as I could for last night's and this morning's masses. Very tiring.

Of course, we had the grand miracle of Easter where God raised Jesus of Nazareth from the dead, but a second miracle occurred. Several weeks ago, one of the chorus member's accordion went missing before mass. He was despondent and depressed because the accordion cost over 1,000 and he has minimal funds. Well, to everyone's surprise, the man who "borrowed" the accordion returned it this morning. It was a miracle. The whole chorus and all the ministers were so very happy. We were jumping up and down in amazement. I even taught them a new accordion dance.

Well, mass went fine. I cannot believe I did these four lengthy masses day after day. I came through fine. The congregation gave a huge round of applause after the renewal of baptismal promises and the sprinkling rite. I use my hand because I want to wet everyone well. They loved it. They were all smiles and full of laughter. Getting drenched was meaningful for them. It didn't matter that it took some time because we had raucous songs to sing.

All went well and then I went off to see my family and my mother, who is doing fine. Day by day, but all is well. It was odd to drive to central Massachusetts where the temperature dropped fourteen degrees. My Easter dinner was accentuated by big flakes of snow.

Happy Easter!

A Holy Saturday workout

I began my day by touching up a few oil paintings and I ended up finally putting my signature on each of them: JPsj. They now feel complete, but I was surprised that I accomplished something I really was not intending to do. The grace of the Triduum.

I tried to figure out a pattern for singing the Exsultet in Spanish today and I finally got a tune and rhythm in my head. To tell you the truth, it worked out fairly well. I was very surprised. It didn't sound remotely like the traditional exsultet, but it happened and people were pleased.

The service went three hours long and I spoke most of the time. Since we were in the lower church, we were in pure darkness that I could not even prepare for which prayer came next. I sat in darkness, like this entire week. The choir hardly sang so I intoned the litanies for the baptism. At the end of the day, my body felt like I had been playing a football game.

However, the great Vigil occurred and Christ has risen once again in our hearts, consciousness, and reality. People were so very happy. After a solid sleep tonight, I'll do the noon mass and then go to a family dinner. It has been quite a week.

Spanish Good Friday Services

My Lenten humiliations continue. The Good Friday services came and went and I'm a little more humbled. I just have to take matters in stride and diminish the drama.

I spent forty minutes trying to find out what I needed to do in order to lead the Stations of the Cross. No information was forthcoming. I sat off to the side waiting for the energy to lessen and they kept saying, "Father, it is time to go." I replied, "No one goes until my questions are answered. I've been asking for 40 minutes." Speak to me.

Then I was told that I would do the welcome and lead the first and fourteenth stations. I asked, "Without a program? I need something to read. You have to give me information in advance so I can be prepared." They understood.

I think they take my language skills for granted. I rehearse and practice but I am not conversant and I cannot do anything impromptu. They expect I can pick it up quickly. A slight problem is what I read in the Missal Romano and what they say colloquially. They asked me to recite El Padre Nuestro by heart, but my text has different words. Then followed the Ave Maria, which begins, "Dios te Salve." My brain hurt as I tried to remember everything. At least, I tried. With just a little notice, I could have remembered it.

So, we set off through the streets of Roxbury. The overcast day was warm and the police escort helped us through the busy intersections. All the onlookers were respectful. All worked out well.

The Good Friday service went fine. It was fairly easy enough to do.

The big kicker came at the end when the coordinator asked, "Are you ready for your big day tomorrow? The chorus is not ready to sing the Exsultet so we expect you to do it.

Dios Mio. Hay carumba. My God, why have you forsaken me?

How to cope with Holy Week when you feel less than inspired

Thomas Reese 

 |  Apr. 3, 2015Faith and Justice

http://ncronline.org/node/99396

I have been going to Holy Week services since I was a child in the mid-1950s. My family would go to Mission San Juan Capistrano, where we celebrated in the chapel of the soon-to-be-St. Junipero Serra. Even before the Second Vatican Council, the services were well done using the new rite promulgated by Pius XII in 1955.

I especially remember one time during Easter Vigil when the fire got so out of control it blackened the ceiling. You don't see that anymore.

The Good Friday service at the mission had something unique. They had a statue of the dead Jesus laid out on his back. We processed, singing, into the mission gardens, where he was placed in a cave-like alcove at the end of the service. Even as a child, I wondered who would sneak the statue out before Easter.

The Holy Week services put us on a spiritual roller coaster. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday warn us that bad things are coming. Then on Thursday, we are suddenly supposed to rejoice in the gift of the Eucharist. Then back downhill at the end of the service and on to Good Friday, until we are once again rejoicing on Saturday evening.

Perhaps the hardest service to get through is the Easter Vigil. The nine readings go on forever: two each from Genesis and Isaiah and one each from Exodus, Baruch, Ezekiel, Romans and the Gospel of Mark. I fear I sound like Emperor Joseph II when he told Mozart that his piece had too many notes, but the vigil has too many readings. I have heard them too many times before.

The truth is that I hate Holy Week because it makes me feel guilty. I know I should be getting more out of it, but I find myself daydreaming or dozing off during the services.

True, there are high points that wake you up. Watching the faces of the catechumens as water is poured over their heads makes the entire service worthwhile. In most churches, the music is much better than on an average Sunday. And there is something comforting about seeing the church filled with people who are not obliged to be there. Even when I am not getting anything out of it, I feel supported by a community that is.

So my resolution this Holy Week is to go with the flow. Forget the guilt. Don't worry if you miss half the words; hold on to a couple that touch you this year and treasure them like gems. Sometimes you simply have to sit patiently with the community and wait for the Spirit.

There is another reason I hate Holy Week, especially Good Friday. When I was a child, we were taught that Jesus had to die for our sins because sin is an infinite insult to God that requires an infinite sacrifice as reparation.

I am sorry, but I don't think I have ever done anything so bad that it requires me or anyone else to be crucified, let alone Jesus. While I might be grateful to Jesus for taking the blame for my sins, this theology turned God the Father into a legalistic ogre concerned about balancing the scales of justice, not mercy. The Father in this theology sounds nothing like the Father described by Jesus. Alas, some of the liturgical prayers still reflect this theology.

Today, I would rather see the death of Jesus a consequence of his commitment to the mission given to him by his Father, to preach the good news of God's love for us and our need to respond by loving one another, especially the poor. Jesus, like Oscar Romero, was killed because of what he preached, not because his Father had to be appeased. Jesus is in solidarity with all those who died for justice and human rights.

I did go to one Good Friday service in St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City that truly moved me. The priest, I fear I did not get his name, told a parable about a Jewish father whose son was tortured and killed in a death camp during Hitler's attempt to exterminate the Jews.

The father was a pious Jew who had always observed the laws of the covenant. In the covenant, God had promised to be their God and the Jews had promised to be his people. They would observe the demands of the covenant, and God would protect them. The father felt he had observed his side of the covenant, but God had failed to keep up his part of the deal by not protecting his son.

The father decided to sue God for breach of contract. To make a long story short, God was found guilty. He had failed to protect the son. The judge decided that God should be punished under the terms of lex talionis -- an eye for an eye. Or in this case, a son for a son. God would have to have a son who would be tortured and killed.

This parable reverses the old theology. Rather than Jesus dying for our sins, he dies for God's failings. God created a universe in which suffering and evil are inevitable. There is no philosophical or theological explanation for evil and suffering, especially the suffering of the innocent. Rather than explaining it to us, God decided to join us in this suffering. If we have to bear it, so will he. Rather than just sitting at the sidelines and cheering us on, God joins us in the struggle against evil and suffers with us.

The crucifixion is the sign of God's love for us, but not by forgiving us our sins. The father does not need the death of Jesus to make him forgive. He already wants to forgive us. The crucifixion is the logical consequence of the incarnation. God decided to join us and take the consequences, be what they may. The crucifixion is God's way of getting our attention, God's way of saying, "Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I am with you. I love you."

But the crucifixion cannot be understood without the Resurrection, God's sign that evil and suffering cannot have the last word. He joined us in our suffering, and now he wants us to join him in everlasting life.

In the comment section below, share with us your experience of Holy Week, both positive and negative. 

[Jesuit Fr. Thomas Reese is a senior analyst for NCR and author of Inside the Vatican: The Politics and Organization of the Catholic Church. Follow him on Twitter: @ThomasReeseSJ.]

A Tri- or Quad-Lingual Mass?

Of course, today is the beginning of the holiest days of the year when the priesthood and Eucharist are instituted and we are given the great mandate to care for one another. The Passion of Jesus begins at the Supper of Deliverance. When he changes the rituals, the events of the Passion begin in earnest.

This entire week I've cautioned people about feeding into the drama that affects their lives. We are best not to react to it because the chaotic spirits swirl around and raise our anxieties. If we respond with patience because we know the events of the week will pass, the drama will pass us over. Some have received this wisdom well. All in all, I've had a great week filled with many consolations as I remained steady for others.

Tonight, I had mild concern for the Tri-Lingual mass at St. Patrick's parish. I ask parishioners questions about the events as I'm new to the parish and I seldom get a response. I find out in the immediacy of the moment.

As I was getting ready for mass, I noticed just how beautiful St. Patrick's church is. It is set in the center of Dudley Square, Roxbury, which is known for being a residential area for minority communities. This status may change in a few years as new developments are encroaching upon the old-time way of life, but many are happy with the influx of beauty to the newly created parks. The church is old, but quite stunning. It was the first time I saw it at night with the lights dimly illuminating the building. Most of the time, i haven't noticed the surroundings because I'm worried about what to pronounce next.

Tonight was trilingual. The longtime pastor is approaching eighty and his priest-in-residence is a blind African-American. The Cape Verdean community has a well-supplied stuff. Several sisters were around and then there is the Spanish community. It is quite a composition.

I had concerns for my ability to speak Spanish correctly, but I pronounced the words with greater fluency. It felt like the Spirit was giving me the grace to preach rather than to read. However, I have no idea if the stuff I write makes any sense to them.

We begin the mass, my favorite of the year, in Latin. Latin. Many of the responses were in Latin because that is the great unifier of the languages. Then, we heard Cape Verdean Portuguese, followed by Spanish, then English, with occasional Latin hymns and responses. It worked! It turned out to be fairly prayerful and it was easy to sing all songs in the different languages. The service that I was most worried about is complete. My fear was that I would have to say something impromptu.

Tomorrow we gather in Roxbury at 1:00 p.m. and I will lead the Stations of the Cross through the town and the Veneration Service follows immediately afterward. Saturday night I baptize and confirm four. Easter Sunday ought to be a breeze. I'm being stretched. I hope it is all for God's Greater Glory.

Hello, April

The weather for these past two months have demoralized many in the Northeast USA, but the month is finally over. Hopefully, the snow is gone too. As I finished my late afternoon appointment, I was planning to rush back home to dinner, but since the sun was shining and the weather fairly warm, I extended my route in Downtown Crossing to pass through Quincy Marketplace down to South Station. I easily made my daily 10,000 steps and I was treated with signs of spring.

First, my stomach started groaning when I smelled the sausages being roasted by the sidewalk vendors. Then, the roasted almonds and pretzels were next in the olfactory line. However, I'm a vegetarian (mostly) and I was on my way to dinner.

After crunching the snow and ice the linger over the sidewalks, I noticed that Quincy Market would serve us well by taking down the snowflakes and Christmas decorations. Keep up the lights. I love the bright lights - and even the white lights. Many tired wreaths are still hung in places that could not be reached because of the massive snow piles.

But then, I saw amply growth on the Forsythia that line the Greenway in Downtown Boston. What great pleasure to see spring growth.

Sometimes I forget that I am so close to Boston. I wonder why I don't spend much more time in the City and then I realize I have the ocean. Even if I did not have that, I have my painting and all is good.

Welcome, April. Don't be cruel to us. We need a weather friend.

The Sacrament for Priests

Today, the central region of the Archdiocese of Boston held a liturgical service for the sacrament of reconciliation for its priests, prior to the Holy Week services. The day coincided with the Feast of the Annunciation. I was moved to participate in the service designed to fortify its priests before Easter.

It was comforting to see many religious order priests working within the central region. A good number of them were foreign priests serving minority populations. It is remarkable how easy it is to spot a religious order priest among the diocesan priests.

In total, maybe 60 priests attended. Next Tuesday, at the Chrism mass where the oils are distributed for the initiation sacraments, the priests will renew their promises to their bishop, in this case, Cardinal Sean O'Malley. Diocesan priests made solemn promises to their bishops each year, while religious order priests profess vows to their ordinary, their provincial, the head of a province.

Today's service reminded me that (1.) I have a larger community of priests where I can find companionship and support, (2.) I want to be part of a faith-sharing group during the coming year, and (3.) confessing regularly to a particular confessor aids the spiritual life just as much as spiritual direction. It was very good to see so many men strive for greater holiness.

All in all, it was a very good day.