I write this column at the beginning of the Triduum, one of my favorite feasts and liturgies, Holy Thursday vigil. Eucharist is at the center of my spirituality. In times of distress and struggle as well as of quotidian and joy, the desire to receive Communion often is what drew me to church. The scholastic’s attempt to explain the presence of God with transubstantiation, “substance,” and “accidents” was not as important to me as my personal experience of the sustenance and strength that floods my being when I share in the Eucharist whether as part of a worshipping community or on a sick bed.
The next day of the Triduum is Good Friday, a time for prayer and reflection on the suffering and death of Jesus as well as on our sin that contributes to ongoing pain and evil in the world. I often am aware of emptiness - Jesus is closed up in the tomb, not yet risen to flood the world with light and hope. Once, walking through the woods on Good Friday night, I stepped on a board that had been left near a narrow creek, perhaps for use in crossing the water. One end of the board leapt up when my foot came down on the other. It seemed tense, eager. I stopped and looked around; the whole wood seemed to be waiting. That is Good Friday’s gift: awareness of emptiness and the need for God to fill it up.
After Good Friday’s quiet, the Saturday before the vigil Mass is a time of expectation. For those with families it can be a time to make sure Easter baskets are ready to be left out for the Easter Bunny or to dye hard boiled eggs. At my house it was always a day to bake dozens of hot cross buns that we delivered to family and friends. No matter the preparations, the day was lighter than the day before, and activities built up to the Easter Vigil.
When I was in the grade school choir, Saturday night liturgy was the time when all our practice came together. Girls dressed in red skirts and white cottas with red bows at our necks and boys wearing altar server type attire with red ties, raised their voices in a magnificent Gloria as bells rang and the organ trembled for the first time since the beginning of Lent. Today’s Easter Vigil includes baptisms of new members who have been traveling the RCIA road for months.
Easter Sunday itself continues the celebration with joyful music, Alleluias, and readings that proclaim the central mysteries of our faith. Indeed, the Triduum is a three-day observance of what we believe: Jesus, the Son of God come to be with us, was crucified, died, and was buried. After three days, he rose, shattering the power of death and showering us with the promise of eternal life. It is a lot to cover in three days, but the liturgies, music, and traditions, if prayerfully observed, sweep us through.
I remember celebrating the Triduum last year at the Abbey of St. John’s and the Sacred Heart Chapel of St. Benedict’s Monastery. The Easter Vigil readings at the Abbey were done in a variety of ways: The creation story was read by a male and a female voice from the balcony above the congregation; another passage was presented as a dramatic reading with four people taking parts; one was sung. Each had a unique “voice” and freshness that invited those listening to hear as if for the first time. The music was magnificent, and to make sure we all got home safely in the wee hours of the morning, the monks served coffee, hot chocolate, and hot cross buns in the Great Hall where the vigil had begun with the flickering candles.
For the first time in my life, I rose at 4am and attended the second part of the Vigil at the women’s monastery where the first part had been celebrated at midnight the night before. This liturgy included sacred dance and more beautiful music and afterwards, a breakfast in the sister’s dining hall.
This year will be a quieter Easter for me, spent with my parish community and my father at home. No hot cross buns, but an Easter dinner and time to think about the gifts of Eucharist, of the resurrection in our own lives that come after our personal Good Fridays, and the gift of life everlasting. A blessed Easter to all!