Well, THAT was exhilarating, now, wasn’t it?
The two weeks of Passiontide with its veiled statues and crosses; Palm Sunday with its sticks and shouting; the Sacred Triduum of Holy Thursday’s Mass of the Lord’s Supper, Good Friday’s Solemn Celebration of the Lord’s Passion, and Holy Saturday’s Great Vigil; and lots and lots of confessions; it all sort of erupts into Easter Sunday morning, with the jubilant mayhem of kids, crowds, and Alleluias.
When it all quieted down and I drove off the sunny, silent campus a little after two o’clock to visit my parents, I was amazed at how much had happened in the eight hours since I got up. Somebody who just walked into our church that morning would have believed that all that excitement, all that joy, all that beauty, all that warmth and friendship, all that communion might just be the norm in this remarkable place.
They would not be wrong, though we do not always have a tent on the lawn sheltering abundant treats, and an egg hunt, and flowers everywhere. That is wonderful, but it is not the heart of our hospitality. We always have friendly, welcoming people, eager to offer something good whenever someone enters. But for Easter, they outdo themselves.
Just like we always have excellent altar servers who work hard and make sacrifices to make the liturgy beautiful. But over the Triduum and Easter, they outdo themselves.
We always have rich, beautiful sacred music perfect for the occasion. But over Holy Week and Easter, the amount of music, the range of expression, the depth of truth and beauty lead our singers – adults and children -- to outdo themselves.
Our church is always well taken care of, and we are blessed to have splendid space, and high-quality liturgical furnishings. But that big space requires a LOT of people to contribute flowers, and all that veiling and flowering and polishing and decking and arranging required many hands and much work, and our people outdid themselves. Though few were around to watch it happen, we all enjoyed the results.
I know the rectory looks quiet, even boring from the outside. Maybe if you come in the front door, it looks as if some work might be done in there. But let me tell you: everybody in that rectory, both my housemates and the staff, rose to the occasion, and that was a big raise. They outdid themselves.
All this, all this is right and just in the celebration of the pascal mystery, our incarnate Lord’s self-sacrifice and resurrection: more than we could have expected, and far more than we deserve. That was the model for everybody of these past weeks, all so that some soul who walked into our church at any point over the holy days would be embraced by the power and love of God. Maybe that soul will return; maybe he will go his way. He may never give a thought, much less his thanks, to all here who outdid themselves. But I thank you; and so do the many souls who, occasionally or often, find God in your gifts and in your giving.
All that excitement, all that joy, all that beauty, all that warmth and friendship, all that communion is indeed the norm in this remarkable place. It is exhilarating. Truly He is risen, Alleluia!
Monsignor Smith
