March 2024 – Father Maurer's blog

Good Friday of the Passion of the Lord

March 30, 2024March 30, 2024Father Jacob Maurer

Of all of the days of the Triduum, Good Friday is the most intense, both figuratively and practically. Practically speaking, I find it to be the most physically taxing of days. In addition to the normal routine at the parish school (drop-off & prayer), we have morning prayer in place of Mass, the school Passion play, the Tre Ore service with confessions between the Seven Last Words & the accompanying brief homilies, Stations of the Cross, and (at last) the Good Friday service of the Passion of the Lord. It is fitting that the day weighs so heavily, though it can not compare with the weight of the cross or that of our sins.

Between the various services and prayers, I was struck by how many people not only came to the church but how many of them stayed. Good Friday is not a holy day of obligation, yet the church was never empty – and for the three hours of largely silent prayer and confessions, the crowd of people only grew. When the Stations of the Cross at 3pm concluded, I had to (gently!) chase people out of the church so that we could close up and prepare for the evening.

But the most affecting moments – from where I sat, at least – were in the Good Friday service of the Passion of the Lord. During communion, the choir sang a haunting arrangement of “O Come and Mourn“¹, and I know I wasn’t alone in responding in kind. But the height of mourning came while the congregation came forward and the choir sang the Reproaches. I found myself joining in the refrain: “My people, what have I done to you? Or how have I grieved you? Answer me!”

The only answer we have is the one of the Good Thief – begging Christ’s mercy even while accepting that it is our own sins that merit the cross. And so we enter into the long night of His death, awaiting His reply.

2024 Passion play, Saint Mark – the trial of Jesus

I’ve been told that the arrangement sung by our choir was put together by our music director, Greg Teeter! ↩︎

Holy Thursday Mass of Lord’s Supper

March 28, 2024March 29, 2024Father Jacob Maurer

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.

Tenebrae (Service of Shadows) at Saint Mark

March 27, 2024March 28, 2024Father Jacob Maurer

The lone candle remaining lit at the conclusion of Tenebrae

As part of preparing to enter into the Triduum, we gathered tonight at Saint Mark parish for Tenebrae or the Service of Shadows. Over the course of an hour and a half, we chanted fifteen psalms – split into groups of three called nocturnes – with readings from the Lamentations of the prophet Jeremiah, the writings of Saint Augustine, and Paul’s letter to the Hebrews between each nocturne.

As each psalm concluded, an altar server extinguished one of the fifteen candles set before the altar. Though the church was lit from without and within when we started, the shadows deepened as the service drew on and twilight fell.

At the conclusion of the Canticle of Zechariah, the fifteenth and final candle was removed from the sanctuary. Standing together in the darkness, the Christus Factus Est was chanted and the Our Father prayed. In the silence that followed, a loud noise – the strepitus ¹– rang out in the church, signifying the closing of the tomb of Christ. The lone candle was returned to the front of the sanctuary and by its light, we left the darkened church.

I was introduced to Tenebrae in 2015, when my friend Thom Ryng (along with some interested parishioners) introduced me to the tradition. A sort of liturgical portmanteau of Matins & Lauds (Office of Readings and Morning Prayer, respectively), this used to be a staple of the Triduum – offered on Spy Wednesday, Holy Thursday, and Good Friday. With the liturgical reforms of Vatican II, Tenebrae fell out of practice – though it has been experiencing a resurgence in many parishes.

Personally, Tenebrae is one of my favorite para-liturgical celebrations of Holy Week. As a pastor, I have been rather blown away by how well received it has been by parishioners – I would never have guessed that a mid-week hour-plus service of chanted psalms would inflame the hearts of so many! And yet, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised: who among us doesn’t long for a mystical experience of the Lord’s work among us?! Happily, this is not the last but rather the first of such opportunities to enter into the mysteries of Christ’s saving work.

May we continue together in prayer as we contemplate the passion, death, and resurrection of the Lord.

The strepitus, it should be noted, is produced at Saint Mark by an altar server slamming the sacristy door (a solid-core wooden door framed in steel) shut hard. This role is much-sought-after among the servers – and they relish the gasps of those caught off-guard at the noise! Though I was not among those gasping, close observers may have caught sight of the priest flinching ever-so-slightly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ↩︎

Preparing for the Triduum

March 26, 2024March 26, 2024Father Jacob Maurer

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.

Christ's entry into Jerusalem by Wenceslas Hollar — *Christ’s entry into Jerusalem*, Wenceslaus Hollar

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.

Crucifixion by Eugène Delacroix — *Crucifixion*, Eugène Delacroix

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.