Holy Saturday's Sacred Silence

In today's Office of Readings, we are given a profound reading from an ancient homily. How can I say more, on this day when it appears as all creation holds its breath:

Something strange is happening—there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.

He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: ‘My Lord be with you all.’ Christ answered him: ‘And with your spirit.’ He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: ‘Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.’

I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated.

For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.

See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.

I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side for you who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in hell. The sword that pierced me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.

Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.

Priestly Vestments

His Holiness Pope Benedict, in his homily for the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday Morning, spoke of the various liturgical vestments of the priest. Each demonstrates a deeper understanding of the priesthood.

The Holy Father then turned to the individual vestments of the priest, beginning with the amice, the white cloth which priests put on first, over their shoulders and collar.

“In the past, and in monastic orders to this day,” Pope Benedict said, “[the amice] was placed first on the head, as a sort of hood, becoming in this way a symbol of the discipline of the senses and the thoughts as necessary for the proper celebration of the Holy Mass.”

This necessity remains to this day, the Holy Father said, emphasizing that, “my thoughts must not wander through the worries and expectations of my daily life; my senses must not be distracted by those things within the Church which would casually grab my eyes and ears.”

The priest’s heart, the Pope continued, must be turned to the Lord in his midst. “If I am with the Lord, then with my listening, speaking, and acting, I will also draw the people into communion with Him.”

Turning then to the alb and stole, the Holy Father recalled that the ancient prayers connected with these vestments refer to the new clothes which are put on the prodigal son when he returns to the house of his father; and for that reason, “When we approach the liturgy to act on behalf of Christ, we all realize how far we are from Him, how much dirt exists in our life.”

It is only the blood of the lamb, as cited in the book of Revelation, that “washes our robes and makes them white.” Therefore, Benedict said to the priests present, “by wearing the alb, we should remember: He suffered for me as well. And only because His love is greater than all my sins, can I act on His behalf and be the witness of His light.”

The Holy Father also explained how the alb should recall the “vesting with love,” to which we who are called to the wedding feast are called.

For this reason, the Pope added, we should ask ourselves, “Now that we are getting closer to the celebration of Holy Mass… whether we wear this dress of love. Let’s ask the Lord to take any hostility away from our soul, to remove from us any feeling of self-sufficiency and to really dress us in the dress of love, so that we will be bright people, not people who belong to darkness.”

Pope Benedict also touched briefly on the meaning of the Chasuble, which according to his explanation, symbolizes the yoke of Christ. “Wearing the yoke of the Lord means first and foremost: learning from Him; always being willing to be taught by Him.

From Him, we must learn meekness and humbleness – God’s humbleness that becomes apparent in His being a man”.

“Sometimes we would like to say to Jesus,” the Pope confessed, “Lord, your yoke is not light at all. Actually, it is awfully heavy in this world. But then, as we look at Him who carried everything – who personally experienced obedience, weakness, pain, all the darkness, suddenly these lamentations of ours die down.”

“His yoke is to love with Him. And the more we love Him and with Him we become people who love, the lighter His seemingly heavy yoke becomes for us.”

Good Friday's Call to Sacrifice

The Triduum continues. Today, we celebrate the Lord's passion, hearing again the sacred story of his death, this day hearing St. John's account. It is in this account that we hear that Jesus himself carried the cross, that he without question took it up. There is no agony here - he freely choses to give his life, to lay it down. And, as we recall, he has the power to take it up.

He is the innocent Lamb of God, our passover lamb that is without spot or blemish. Perfect as the Son of God made man, he alone has the ability to be our offering. He is put to death as across Jerusalem in the temple area, the priests were preparing the passover lamb, sacrifice the spotless lambs as a token reminder of the freedom symbolized by their ancestors first lambs' blood on their doors and lintels. But our Lamb is more - he makes the freedom happen. He becomes our sin offering, taking upon himself our sin, our shame, our death. He puts it to death, transforms it by his sacrifice. How many times have our sins crushed him? How many times have we pounded the nails with our iniquities? How many times have we crowned him with our disobedience?

But how many times have we come back to the font of his grace? How many times have we asked to be washed clean by the blood (of the Eucharist) and the water (of Baptism and reconciliation)? How many times have we peered into his most sacred heart which has so loved us?

We celebrate our salvation, wrought for us in Christ's sacrifice. It is no accident that he died. It was not an unfortunate episode in his life. No, it was for this reason that he lived! Now, he calls us to follow him, the way, the truth, and the life. He invites us to take up our own cross, now transformed from the instrument of death into a means of grace.

O sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with
thorns, Thine only crown;
How pale Thou art with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish,
Which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered,
Was all for sinners' gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

Men mock and taunt and jeer Thee,
Thou noble countenance,
Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee
And flee before Thy glance.
How art thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How doth Thy visage languish
That once was bright as morn!

Now from Thy cheeks has vanished
Their color once so fair;
From Thy red lips is banished
The splendor that was there.
Grim death, with cruel rigor,
Hath robbed Thee of Thy life;
Thus Thou hast lost Thy vigor,
Thy strength in this sad strife.

My burden in Thy Passion,
Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
For it was my transgression
Which brought this woe on Thee.
I cast me down before Thee,
Wrath were my rightful lot;
Have mercy, I implore Thee;
Redeemer, spurn me not!

What language shall I borrow
to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever,
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love to Thee.

My shepherd, now receive me;
My guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou didst give me,
O source of gifts divine.
Thy lips have often fed me
With words of truth and love;
Thy Spirit oft hath led me
To heavenly joys above.

Here I will stand beside Thee,
From Thee I will not part;
O Savior, do not chide me!
When breaks Thy loving heart,
When soul and body languish
In death's cold, cruel grasp,
Then, in Thy deepest anguish,
Thee in mine arms I'll clasp.

The joy can never be spoken,
Above all joys beside,
When in Thy body broken
I thus with safety hide.
O Lord of Life, desiring
Thy glory now to see,
Beside Thy cross expiring,
I'd breathe my soul to Thee.

My Savior, be Thou near me
When death is at my door;
Then let Thy presence cheer me,
Forsake me nevermore!
When soul and body languish,
Oh, leave me not alone,
But take away mine anguish
By virtue of Thine own!

Be Thou my consolation,
My shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion
When my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfolds Thee.
Who dieth thus dies well.

Holy Thursday's call to love

This evening, we begin the solemn celebration of the Triduum. We mark the first Eucharist tonight, that Christ, the night before He died, took bread and wine and gave it to his apostles. He transformed the elements His body and blood, and commanded that they do likewise in memory of Him. This 'memory' is not a simple calling to mind, though, but rather an act that makes present the thing or event being present - it is a very Jewish concept. Every Eucharist is an act that brings us into the present of the Last Supper, the passion and death of Christ, and His Resurrection (which is why we cannot celebrate Mass on Good Friday!)

Those who go to Mass tonight will note that we do not have a gospel passage on the institution of the Eucharist (we have St. Paul's account as recording in his letter to the Corinthians), but rather St. John's account of the Last Supper, when Jesus rose from the table and washed their feet. St. John does not include the institution of the Eucharist - no pun, but he passes over it to go to the fruits of the Eucharist (in the sixth chapter of John, he has the highest Eucharistic theology of all the Gospel writers) - charity and service. The Eucharist brings us into communion with Christ, to help us to imitate Him. As he washes the feet of his apostles, we too are invited to serve. Service is not optional for the Christian, but a fruit of the Eucharist.

This evening, we mark the birth of the Christian priesthood, born of the Eucharist. We pray that those whom God is calling to be priests would hear that call and respond to it.

His Holiness' Prayer Intention for April

His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI released his prayer intentions for the Month. They are

...that every Christian may answer enthusiastically and faithfully the universal call to sanctity, allowing himself to be enlightened and guided by the Holy Spirit.

And

That the number of priestly and religious vocations may grow in North America and the countries of the Pacific Ocean, in order to give an adequate answer to the pastoral and missionary needs of those populations.

The Vocation of Husband/Father

Domenico Bettinelli writes poignantly about his vocation as a father in a recent post. He writes of his being torn in having to go to work to provide for his family. Thanks, Dom, for sharing what a hardship it is to be away from your wife and children while trying to support them. It is a struggle that is shared by many men, and we would be well served as a church to have more fathers and husbands honestly share the struggle they have. The vocation of husband/father is one of profound happiness and sorrows, of love and sacrifice. It is proof again that all vocations have their burdens and joys!

Reflection on Palm Sunday

Jesus says, "If they [the disciples] keep silent, the stones will cry out." It is a magnificent thought, isn't it? Those that claim to follow Christ need to call out in praise, and if we don't, the stones will. What a sound that must be!

The Church teaches us that we are created in love for love. We are are created with a desire to be in relationship with our Creator and Lord. We are created to worship Him. To withhold that desire is like bottling up a shaken soda - its bound to explode out! That is the experience of the disciples as they accompany the Lord Jesus into Jerusalem, and that ought to be our experience, too. But we call to mind that their voices were silenced when those who were caught in mob mentality cried out, "Crucify Him!" How the praise must have bottled up in the hearts of those who watched as their Lord and leader was crucified!

Lest we forget, though, the stones will cry out! The stone that was rolled away screamed that the Lord has won, that He has conquered sin and death through his becoming a sin offering for us.

As we enter this Holy Week, let us worship without fear. We should cry out, asking the Lord to come again, to shatter the gates of our hearts that are closed to Him, and to wait in silence for His Resurrection and our own.