Holy Thursday Mass of Lord’s Supper

Tonight we enter into the three-fold celebration of passion, death, and resurrection of the Lord: the Triduum has begun.

Our Mass tonight had it all: the presentation of the oils, a homily on the three-fold mystery of the Eucharist, the priesthood, and the call to service, the washing of feet, the procession of the Eucharist to the altar of repose, and the stripping of the altar. I was especially touched and grateful to the twelve guys – some of them children (and one baby!) – who said ‘yes’ to my at-the-door-of-the-church request to be among those whose feet were washed. I know that it is no small thing to allow someone else to wash you – especially your feet! – and I was humbled by vulnerability that was entrusted to me at this Mass.

Tonight’s Mass is not without sorrows. This is one of many ‘lasts’ here at Saint Mark and I especially feel that weight as we begin the Triduum together. I can’t help but wonder if this, too, is part of growing close to the Lord and feeling what must He have felt as He looked at His Apostles. He knew each of them intimately, their joys & sorrows, their struggles & triumphs, their virtues & vices. The Last Supper wasn’t just about sacraments and commissioning – it was a kind of goodbye. And this is reflected in our celebration – not just in the context of Partners in the Gospel, with all the changes it brings, but in liturgy itself. Jesus goes forth to die for us and we must let Him, if we are to be made whole.

In the meantime, the tabernacle of our church is empty, the sanctuary cleared of all ornamentations, and the altar laid bare – an icon of the invitation for us to do likewise. May we allow the sacrifice of Christ to work in us, that we may be cleansed and made ready to be filled with the gifts to come.

Preparing for the Triduum

As I write this, it is Tuesday evening of Holy Week – my day off landing smack dab in the quiet lull before the many liturgies to come. Here at Saint Mark parish, we had three Masses for Palm Sunday – the procession was at our principal Mass (10:30 am Sunday), but we also had simple processions at the Saturday vigil and 8:30 am Sunday Masses. Thanks to the many hands that go into our liturgical celebrations, our celebrations went without a hitch. The choir even had a lovely meditative piece at the conclusion of communion that captured well the joy and sorrow of the Passion we had heard earlier in the Mass – it was as beautiful as it was haunting.

As familiar as this week is, I nonetheless find myself at least a little (if not a lot!) overwhelmed both in the minutiae of each liturgy and the emotions they elicit. The gospels for Palm Sunday (from Mark, since we’re in Cycle B) had a couple of particular moments that stood out for me – I found myself unexpectedly empathizing with the owner of the colt Christ used to enter Jerusalem. While my irritation might (probably?) would have transformed to a sense of honor eventually, I couldn’t help but think of how frustrated I would be in his shoes! Similarly, I wondered about the owner of the upper room where the Last Supper was celebrated – what must have he thought when the disciples came and passed on Jesus’ words! Elizabeth Scalia, in a fictional imagining of that man & his family, paints a lovely picture of a loving family ready to share it for the Passover. I’m not certain I would be so welcoming of His request.

And this is the realization that has been coming to me as the Triduum approaches: how begrudgingly I allow the Lord to enter into my life, to re-take possession of the gifts He has entrusted to me. I know that He all-loving & good, yet I distrust and fear Him even as I desire to draw closer in relationship with Him. Despite my faith – and my priestly vocation – my heart is all-too-often afraid of what He might ask – or take, without asking! – of my life, of what I might lose from among all that I treasure.

Simcha Fisher wrote a reflection (“The temple Jesus purifies is the human heart“) and the last paragraph drives the whole thing home: Jesus’ work of purification can be summarized by the crucifixion. We are made whole by the wounds He takes on for us. He sees our suffering – suffering brought on by our sinful self-reliance – and takes it on Himself, so that we may suffer no more.

All that is left is to entrust our hearts – and their healing to Him. May we use these days well, taking time to walk the familiar way of the cross, renewing our invitation to Him to accomplish His work in us, that we make make a gift of our very selves.

Spy Wednesday

Today is the last full day of Lent (which officially ends at the beginning of the evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday). This day is known as ‘spy’ Wednesday, taken from story of Judas’ betrayal of Jesus – the Gospel proclaimed at today’s Mass. In his misguided attempt to force Jesus into fulfilling the expectation of a conquering messiah, Judas unwittingly became an agent for those who declared themselves enemies of Christ. He became a spy, looking for and taking the opportunity to betray the Lord.

The Kiss of Judas by James Tissot

It wasn’t until fairly recently that I realized how the devil heightens his attacks during Holy Week. In fact, it was two years ago today that I found myself in such serious struggles that I reached out to one of our auxiliary bishops, asking for his guidance on how to deal with a particularly unsettling set of circumstances that was troubling me and my parish. I couldn’t understand why it was happening at one of the most sacred times of the year! Bishop Mueggenborg reminded me that the devil continues to lash out even in defeat, and that holy week – particularly Spy Wednesday – is a time when we are often must under assault.

In retrospect, it seems obvious – I’ve always found holy week to be a time of additional anxieties, frustrations, and conflict as we try to fit all the liturgical and sacramental pieces together. Honestly, it had simply never occurred to me that there was a spiritual element. But of course, Satan is upset! We’re celebrating Jesus’ triumph over sin and death – and more than that, our sharing in that victory! New Christians are baptized, old Christians renew their baptismal promises – heck, even fallen-away Christians make time to come to Easter Masses!

Looking back on holy weeks of years gone by, I can see how the devil has tried to undermine not just the parish celebrations of this holy time, but my own ability to receive the associated graces. I recall one particular Easter vigil where it seemed to me that everything that could go wrong went wrong. Ministers and priest (me!) alike missed their cues, lights & candles were extinguished or lit at the wrong time, music was wonky, and so on – all of my plans and hopes for the Mass went spectacularly sideways. By the time Mass was over, I was a disappointed, angry mess. I tried to put on a cheerful face for the community, but I let my guard down with one parishioner with whom I was friends. As I ranted about all the things that didn’t go right, he looked at me and simply said ‘oh? I didn’t notice any of that – it was just such a beautiful Mass!’ before cheerfully departing with his wife.

It was about that moment that I realized that I had managed to sabotage my own reception of God’s gifts because I had focused things other than Jesus.

I like to think I’m a little wiser and a little calmer now….. though I’ll probably still indulge in at least one private meltdown between now and Sunday. But the nickname of this day has proven to be a helpful cautionary tale in a couple of ways. The most obvious is to be on guard for the attacks of the devil – he wants to sneak in and rob us of the graces & joys of this time! If we simply surrender ourselves to God, accepting that only He is perfect, that battle will be over before it ever starts.

Perhaps the less obvious caution is to be aware that the devil can use us to sneak in, to rob both us and others of those graces & joys – especially if we allow anxieties, frustrations, and anger to drive us to lash out at those around us. We may unwittingly become agents – spies, if you will – of the devil’s effort to deny us the fruits of this holy time.

The good news is that it’s not too late to set – or change – our course. May we do what Judas could not: recognizing and accepting our own expectations & limitations, bringing them humbly to the Lord. We can then celebrate how Jesus transforms human weakness into heavenly triumph as we journey through the Sacred Triduum to Easter Sunday.

So even if it isn’t perfect, may you have a blessed Holy Week!

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

“Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Allegorie op de opstanding van Christus, Hieronymus Wierix, naar Crispijn van den Broeck, 1563 – voor 1586

One of the great blessings of Sacred Scripture, the celebration of liturgies, and the cycle of the liturgical year is that the same reading or celebration may convey a new message or unveil a different facet. This year, what stands out to me this Palm Sunday are Jesus’ words to the man only known as the good thief.

There are two people to whom Jesus speaks where an imminent foretelling is offered. The first is Peter, who in his eagerness and pride, assures Him – wrongly – that he is prepared to suffer & die for the Lord. Jesus rebukes that pride even as He shares that He has prayed for Peter and that after his conversion, he must strengthen his brothers. Peter recalls these words at the very moment they are fulfilled, realizes his great failure, and weeps bitterly.

The man on cross is at a different point. He is suffering and dying with Jesus, though not by his own choice. Unlike Peter, this criminal knows that he is not a heroic figure – he goes so far as to rebuke the other criminal, who has demanded that Jesus demonstrate His power by coming down from the cross and taking them with Him. The good thief stands in contrast to that man, and to Peter: “the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes”. Like Peter, he cries out – but with a simple petition: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”.

Jesus’ immediate response is one of mercy and assurance: “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Even on the cross, after having been abandoned by His friends, betrayed by one of His Apostles, condemned & convicted by His own people, and tortured beyond all reason, Jesus focuses His attention and affection on this anonymous, guilty sinner. And He assures him of an eternal reward that he neither expected nor asked for!

For anyone who has ever felt unlovable, unforgiveable, forsaken, or alone, this brief interaction between the Lord and the good thief should shine out – a glorious beacon of hope. This gift is not solely for him; it is a gift offered to all of us! Peter would discover this a few short days later when he receives a similar reassurance….and that despite his inability to match the agape (unconditional) love of Christ, offering instead phileo (brotherly) love. It would only be towards the end of his live that Peter would finally willingly suffer with Christ, sharing in the same fate of both his savior and the good thief.

Wherever we are on our own journey of relationship with Christ, we are invited today – and throughout this Holy Week – to draw near to the cross. Perhaps we have run away from the Lord in the past, maybe we’ve even abandoned, denied, or betrayed Him. In the good thief we are reminded that it is not too late to ask for – and receive – the mercy and salvation that Jesus so desperately desires to share with us.

A Lenten Reboot

Before I was ordained, one of my on-again, off-again past-times was computer tech support. Often under the guise of a ‘small problem’, I would get that familiar call: “my computer is [insert malfunction here], would you take a look at it?”. Before I would come over, I quickly learned to request that the owner reboot their computer – the all-purpose on-off maneuver. The majority of the time, that simply act would clear whatever error was occurring.

In the ordinary course of Lent each year, I find that I have to reboot my Lenten practices at least once….but usually several times. Sometimes the ‘small problem’ that I could easily identify was just that.  A fresh start after accidentally eating meat on a Friday, watching the television I had given up, or otherwise mis-stepping in a little way was easily remedied by recommitting myself to prayer and discipline.

Other times, I found that that ‘small problem’ opened the door to deeper needs that lay hidden or even ignored in my heart and in my spiritual life. It isn’t always pleasant to have wounds or nerves exposed, but the invitation is always to a great conversion, to a more intimate relationship with Jesus.

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