This Sunday concludes the Octave of Easter. An octave is a celebration of eight days in the Church and each day is honored liturgically in the same way as the day in which the octave began, in this case Easter Sunday. Following the reforms of Vatican II, only two octaves remain in the ordinary form of the Churches liturgical calendar: Easter and Christmas. While the octave may be finishing, the joy of the Easter Season continues on. This was a Triduum unlike any other. The liturgies were beautiful and I am grateful for the comments that we received from folks via social media. While they were beautiful, they were lacking in that you were not able to be there and that subdued the joy that naturally comes from the celebration of Easter. I wish to thank our own Mark Gifford for providing us with the beauty of the organ during our celebrations, thank you to Andrew Hansen and Michael Hoerner from the Catholic Pastoral Center for filming/streaming our celebrations, and thank you to my confreres in the clergy and our seminarians for helping to make the liturgies happen.

The Gospel for the Second of Sunday of Easter is popularly known as the Gospel of Doubting Thomas. Here our Lord appears to Thomas, and the other ten Apostles, and invites Thomas to see and probe his wounds so that Thomas might believe that the Lord is truly risen and that he is who he says he is. While the Lord’s body has been changed and glorified, the wounds from his crucifixion remain. Theologians have marveled over this reality for 2,000 years and posed various reasons as to why. As in the case of St. Thomas the Apostle, the wounds identify the Lord for who is but they also tell us what death is no longer; death is no longer an eternal reality for those who live and die in God’s friendship. The marks of the Lord’s death remain but, but death has no power over him, and through him neither over us. St. Leo the great says it more eloquently in a homily on the Lord’s Passion:

He did away with the everlasting character of death so as to make death a thing of time, not of eternity.

As we continue our journey through this Easter Season, let us turn to the risen Lord to draw newness of life from him, remembering that the wounds of our present lives, painful as they may be, are only things of the here and now; in the Resurrection on the last day, when Christ makes us new, those things will be no more.

Father Christopher House is the Rector of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia, namely Chancellor and Vicar Judicial.

It looks like many of us will be spending more time at home for a few weeks, whether for selfquarantine, lockdown, or social distancing. What can we do to keep ourselves spiritually engaged and even grow during this time, rather than stagnate or fall away from our spiritual disciplines? Here are a few suggestions.

Why Has God Given You This Time?
Your initial impulse might be to get more yard work done or to tackle certain home improvement projects. Maybe you are excited about catching up on some television shows, movies or novels.

But what does God want from you with this time? One of the most consistent themes of spiritual writings is that all things are ordained for our holiness. For example, in her fantastic work The Spiritual Life and Prayer, Cécile Bruyerè observes:

“All God’s designs over us in this world are intended to bring about our supernatural perfection.”

Begin and end each day asking God what he wants from you during this time. Pay attention to what’s happening in your life. How is God using this disruption to direct your attention to what he’s trying to accomplish in you? You may have numerous plans for what you want to accomplish. But to what do you see God calling your attention? Maybe the Lord wants you to slow down, spend more time in leisure. Or maybe he wants you to devote more time to prayer. Or maybe he’s asking you to trust him and stop relying on yourself so much. Come back to the question of what this time is for repeatedly. The Lord is calling you to grow!

Jesus, I Trust in You!
There are many things to fret about at this time. Even if you are not worried about getting seriously ill, you can worry about friends and family members getting ill. Or you can worry about your job, the economy, and your retirement account. If your mind is like mine, there will be numerous moments throughout the day when it takes a hard turn toward worryville. When you start doom dreaming, make a habit of saying, whether aloud or internally, “Jesus, I trust in you!”

Study
Instead of binge-watching shows, challenge yourself and exercise rather than relax your mind. Grow in your understanding of your Faith. The deeper your understanding of your faith, the greater the personal connection and engagement. Don’t let this opportunity pass by.

There are so many excellent online resources available that you don’t even have to worry about shipping delays. Ascension has numerous “instant access” study programs at affordable prices. Could you do any better than to think about the life of Jesus Christ through Jesus: The Way, the Truth, and the Life? Or, why not spend these weeks learning about the history of the Church through the excellent program, Epic? You can explore the biblical roots of the Catholic Faith through Sonja Corbitt’s Fulfilled. If you are a mother, you can think more about your vocation to motherhood with Danielle Bean’s cleverly named Momnipotent program. Perhaps you want to use this time to go deeper in prayer? Check our Fr. Mark Toups’ Oremus: A Guide to Catholic Prayer or Lenten Companion. Finally, you could master Scripture by working through Ascension’s excellent Great Adventure Bible study series. Or why not work through Romans?

Prepare for Massless
Sunday Worship More and more dioceses are canceling public Mass. But canceling Mass or dispensation for the Sunday obligation doesn’t mean you don’t have to worship God. The worship of the Lord is mandated in the first three commandments and it is our first duty. How are you going to worship the Lord outside of Mass? You can spend a couple of days during the week preparing a home service.

Why not have your family process to a place dedicated to prayer (see #8) while singing a hymn. You can find some hymns online that you could sing. Then you could make a general confession and sing the Kyrie. Read the Mass readings. In place of the homily, listen to the Mass readings explained by Dr. Brant Pitre, Dr. Scott Hahn, or Jeff Cavins. Or listen to some homilies that are posted online, like those from St. Mary’s Cathedral in Aberdeen. Take a crucifix or icon of Christ and spend some time in mental prayer. Include an Act of Spiritual Communion.

Read or Listen to Stories of the Saints
The saints faced much adversity but did so virtuously. They have much to teach us in these uncertain times. You can pick up dramatized audio stories of St. Francis, St. Cecilia, and St. Patrick from the Augustine Institute. If you have children who are home from school, check out the series of saint stories from Holy Heroes. Or read about St. Albert the Great, St. Colette, St. Robert Bellarmine, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Francis de Sales, St. John Henry Newman, St. John Paul II, St. Therese, or her saintly family. If you want to read a novel about a saint, look into the novels by Louis de Wohl.

Pray Compline
If you don’t already, end the day with Compline or “night prayer.” This is the last hour of prayer for the day. It is meant not only to prepare you for rest, but to prepare you for death. It includes a time for examination of conscience. You can view the “night office” through Universalis, which offers an excellent app if you’d like to have all the offices. Magnificat also has a version of Compline, and during the Coronavirus outbreak, they are offering complimentary access to an online version of their monthly book.

Spiritual and Corporal Works of Mercy
In times like these, we can fall into the trap of thinking only about ourselves and taking care of our needs. We can see our fellow human beings as threats. But the hallmark of our devotion to God is our concern for those in need. What can you do to help others during this time? Consider the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy and ask yourself what you might do to help.

Build a Home Shrine
Why not get crafty during this time? If you don’t have one, build a little home altar or shrine. There is a great book that can help you called The Little Oratory: A Beginner’s Guide to Praying in the Home by David Clayton and Leila Marie Lawler.

Dr. James R. A. Merrick is a lecturer at Franciscan University of Steubenville, Senior Fellow at the St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology, and a theology and Latin teacher at St. Joseph’s Catholic Academy in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania. Follow Dr. Merrick on Twitter: @JamesRAMerrick.

As we age, we come to expect letdowns and disappointments. Because of so many unfulfilled promises and unmet expectations, we become cynical of anything that can seem too good to be true. Our hearts grow calloused to protect us from future disillusionment. And so, we come to demand proof and assurances before committing ourselves to anything.

Such is the case with Thomas and the other apostles in today’s gospel. They had set all their hope on Jesus. And it all came to a horrifying and humiliating end with the crucifixion. Now, they were reduced to hiding behind a locked door for fear that the authorities would do to them what they had done to Jesus.

While they were cowering in fear, Jesus appeared to them. John tells us that Jesus shows himself to them, “despite the locked doors.” John is not just referring here to the heavy wooden doors of their hiding place. He is talking about the closed doors of their hearts. Jesus doesn’t wait until they calm down or get perspective on the situation. Rather, he breaks through the door of their fear announcing the good news that he is alive.

Just as Jesus is not shut out by the closed doors of the apostles’ fear, neither is he shut out by the closed door of Thomas’ doubt. Instead, taking up Thomas’ challenge, Jesus appears to him so that he can put his doubt aside. The nail marks on his hands, feet, and side dispel any doubt that this is truly the risen Jesus standing before him.

All of us have times when we approach God with a closed heart. We might fear that He will take from us more than we’re willing to give. Or, we might fear that we’ll be made fun of if we live His message in a total and radical way. Our hearts may also be hardened by doubt. With so many different religions and so many different opinions, we might wonder, who’s to say which is the right way?

No matter where we are with our faith — no matter how closed our hearts may seem — Jesus can break through that closed door and reveal himself. If you can only go so far, Jesus can meet you there. If you can only believe so much, Jesus can take your hand and lead you a little further along. There is no doubt, fear, or weakness that Jesus, through the power of his resurrection and the power of his Holy Spirit, cannot surmount.

Thomas is an example for us here. He is famous for his doubt — but his story doesn’t end there. Tradition tells us that he went on to preach the Gospel in India. He is often pictured with a spear, because he was run through with a spear and killed. Doubting Thomas was martyred for his witness to the good news of Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus broke through the closed door of Thomas’ doubt and filled him with the faith which enabled him to eventually give his life for Jesus.

The same is true for us. On Divine Mercy Sunday, Jesus wants nothing more than to reveal himself to us, dispel our doubts, and lead us to freedom and peace.

Douglas Sousa, S.T.L. is an author for Liturgical Publications, Inc., and writes reflections on various topics, including reflections on Sunday readings.

I wonder what those holy women were feeling early in the morning on that first day of the week, as the Scriptures teach us, when Mary Magdalene and the others came to the tomb only to find it void of the one whom they sought, when in their amazement they were told:

“Do not be afraid! I know that you are seeking Jesus the crucified. He is not here, for he has been raised just as he said” (Matthew 28:5-6).

Those holy women were the first to receive the good news that has forever changed the course of human history and the meaning of our shared human experience.

Our shared human experience as of late will make this an Easter to remember, sadly for the suffering that our nation and many parts of the world have experienced throughout the Lenten season and even before due to the COVID-19 pandemic. While we are not able to celebrate Easter in the many ways that might wish to, the good news of the empty tomb is not changed, nor is our Lord’s invitation to new life in Him rescinded.

On behalf of Bishop Paprocki and the Cathedral clergy and staff, I pray that the Lord will bless you and yours this Easter with the fullness of His grace and the joy that comes from Him alone. With every cross may we remember that the cross is never an end unto itself. In moments of sacrifice and desolation may we know that we are not alone or forsaken. May we always be mindful that Easter teaches us that God always gets the last word, and in the case of the cross and the tomb, His last word is life. All honor, praise, and glory to the risen Christ, who, by His death and resurrection, has gained for us the rewards of everlasting life! Happy Easter (and I hope to be able to wish that in person at some point during the fifty days of this holy season)!

Father Christopher House is the Rector of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia, namely Chancellor and Vicar Judicial.

Christians, to the Paschal Victim

Offer your thankful praises!

A Lamb the sheep redeems;

Christ, who only is sinless,

Reconciles sinners to the Father.

Death and life have contended in that combat stupendous:

The Prince of life, who died, reigns immortal.

Speak, Mary, declaring

What you saw, wayfaring.

“The tomb of Christ, who is living,

The glory of Jesus’ resurrection;

bright angels attesting,

The shroud and napkin resting.

Yes, Christ my hope is arisen;

to Galilee he goes before you.”

Christ indeed from death is risen, our new life obtaining.

Have mercy, victor King, ever reigning!

Amen. Alleluia.

This ancient hymn, the Victimae Paschali Laudes, is one of only a few “sequences” still in use in the Catholic Church today. A sequence— for your Catholic trivia file—is a hymn traditionally sung just before the Gospel proclamation. Before the reforms of the Mass in 1570, there were many such hymns on feast days and solemnities throughout the Church year. The current Roman Missal has only three: the above sequence for Easter, the Veni Sancte Spiritus for Pentecost, and the recommended (i.e. optional) Lauda Sion for the Solemnity of Corpus Christi.

The Easter Sequence is one of my absolute favorite pieces of prose in the entire Church year. Traditionally, the hymn is dated to the 11th century, one millennium after Christ’s Resurrection and one millennium from our current day. As such, it’s not only a beautiful hymn, it’s a sort of “bridge of faith,” connecting our belief down the centuries to the faith of the Apostles on that Easter morning, when the dawn from on high had only just begun.

Take a few moments to read this beautiful hymn, proclaimed proudly to believers this and every Easter (better yet, find a version of it on YouTube and listen to it!). It speaks in simple words an almost unfathomable reality: Christ, who alone is sinless, reconciles us to the Father! Death and life have fought for us in these days, my brothers and sisters, but the Prince of Life has conquered—not will conquer, but has conquered, definitively, once and for all, this nighttime of our fears.

And now, in the light of Easter morning, our hope indeed has risen. Postured again before the empty tomb, having lived a more realistic Good Friday and Holy Saturday than we ever could have imagined, we stand amazed, realizing once again what it is we truly live for.

Our Lord’s Resurrection, I pray, is as real to you today as it is to me. I pray the light of this Easter morning sheds light and glory on the struggles of this past Lent. And I pray that with this new dawn, the grace of the Lord’s favor will once again shine on His pilgrim people: we who live in this world, but who have long hoped for a world not yet completely our own.

Christ indeed from death is risen, brothers and sisters! May our King, ever reigning, come to meet us in His glory and bring us at last to life with Him and the Father, in the unity of His Holy Spirit. Amen, alleluia!

Father Michael Friedel is a Parochial Vicar at the Cathedral and Chaplain at Sacred Heart Griffin High School.

He’s. Not. Here.

3 simple words, but the incontrovertible evidence that the tomb was empty – the tomb until moments prior guarded by Roman soldiers, sealed by decree of Pilate, and scrutinized by those who hated and loved Christ alike – that He is not there, that He is somehow alive, marvelously outshone the splendor of the angels on that first Easter morning.

Sinfulness, fear, awe … all those emotions that would appear in any “normal” encounter with angels are obliterated and overwhelmed by the truth of the resurrection. They run back to the disciples, yes, “with fear”, but, all the more incredibly, with “great joy”. Never had such a transformation been brought about in human hearts.

They come to the tomb despondent – having seen the brutality of the crucifixion – devastated – still feeling the horror of that great stone rolled over their God’s grave – despairing – excepting the remnant of love that they can still offer His body. But 3 words later, and with one blinding-flash of angelic light, hope returns to their hope. The hope … that somehow the bloody nightmare of Golgotha wasn’t the end. The hope … that somehow this grave and grief were somehow all part of God’s plan. The hope … against hope that their redeemer lives.

But those three words were to be outshone by a single one several swift steps back towards Jerusalem:

“behold, Jesus met them and said, “Hail!”

The same single word that announced the beginning of God’s great invasion into His enslaved world – hail, rejoice, be glad – now announces His definitive re-conquest. The women need not fall down in shame and sin. Sin has been annihilated, shown to be nothing in comparison with the superabundant Love of God. They need not fall down in fear or trepidation. Death has no power here, it has been overthrown; the tomb is now our passage to eternity. And they need not fall down awestruck at the work of God, for their God bears wounds in His human hands, and feet, and heart. Never again can any of us claim to be unworthy, unloved, or uncherished once we have embraced the Body of the Risen Christ.

My dear friends, in Christ. Your and my sins – if we give them to our Risen Savior – stand the same chance against God’s Love as that rock did. Your and my fears – if we live out of our identity as sons and daughters in the Risen Son – will be transformed into icons of His resurrecting-power, as Christ’s burial shroud was. And, your and my wonder at the mystery and power of our Risen Christ – if we receive His greeting of profound love – will be the catalyst for our great joy, in the midst of a world that otherwise might seem pretty crazy.

Happy Easter!!! Yes, it’s a weird one, a daunting one even, but so was the very first Easter! Those women approached the tomb thinking that the greatest good God could bring out of that morning was Jesus’ body anointed properly. But God grace isn’t like ointment, it doesn’t just cover over the problems or pains of our lives, it radically inverts them. If He can bring the greatest of all goods out of a roman execution … If He can conquer the powers of Sin and Death by enduring the shame of Golgotha … He can manage, in the midst of anything, to make the greatest of saints out of you and I. Alleluia, He is Risen! He is Risen indeed!

Fr. Dominic Rankin is a Parochial Vicar at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

We can learn a lot about evangelization from the World War One film 1917. On imdb.com, a reviewer, calling himself “grantss” (no relation to me) summarized 1917’s plot with these words:

“April 1917, the Western Front. Two British soldiers are sent to deliver an urgent message to an isolated regiment. If the message is not received in time the regiment will walk into a trap and be massacred. To get to the regiment they will need to cross through enemy territory. Time is of the essence and the journey will be fraught with danger.”

Now imagine the above summary changed slightly so that it applies to your life–and the lives of your fellow Catholics:

“March 2020, the City of Springfield. Cathedral parishioners are sent to deliver an urgent message to a Midwestern population. If the good news is not received in time, many people will remain far from God and be eternally unhappy. To get to the unchurched they will need to venture into secular society. Time is of the essence and the journey will be fraught with danger.”

In the First World War, the stakes included the lives of millions of soldiers and citizens, along with the political future of Europe and its colonies. The Allies were fighting to defeat the Axis Powers and to defend their foreign and domestic nations and peoples.

In the life of every Christian, a similar war is waged. In your life and in mine, we have the opportunity to be a participant in the campaign to bring friends and family and neighbors to Christ, or, we can choose to allow these relatives and acquaintances to remain in “enemy territory.”

Okay, you say, I’m willing to take part, but what exactly is my part again? Do I need to put on a uniform? Go through basic training? Dig a trench and hunker down?

In 1917, we see the Axis and Allied armies use tried-and-true tactics, while also incorporating new technologies and strategies into their arsenal. They fight with knives, rifles, and machine guns, trip wires, buried mines, and barbed wire, and artillery and airplanes–anything to get the job done.

In a similar vein, a modern Catholic who wants to win the evangelization war must use both tried and true techniques, like having good friends and a consistent prayer life, reading Scripture, and going to Mass as often as possible, while also taking advantage of new ways to spread the good news.

These might include posting on social media sites, pulling Christian messages out of popular movies, songs, and games, using words and analogies that connect with modern audiences, and offering others your personal testimony and friendly hospitality to show them that the Christian life is livable, believable, and true.

These strategies can’t be activities that we “add on” to our lives but should instead be parts of a total lifestyle change. A soldier going to war doesn’t just change clothes or add a few hours of combat to their normal routine. They leave family, friends, home, career, and everything else behind to defend their country.

Just so, a Christian hoping to evangelize can’t just put on a cross necklace, volunteer to read at Mass, or pray piously for five minutes before bedtime and expect to leave the rest of their life the same as before. A Catholic determined to be an ambassador will need to let the light of Christ shine in and on and through every aspect of their life.

Finally, just as the goal of war is to bring peace to a nation, the goal of evangelization is to bring peace to others. Ever since the fall of Adam and Eve, we aren’t at peace with anything in the world: our bodies, our work, our friends, and above all, our God. Everything and everyone is fractured and broken. Because there is this great need, we need to aim our evangelization at bringing the peace of Christ into the lives of everyone we know and meet.

Grant Wilson is a seminarian for the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois, currently residing at the Cathedral on internship. He will be going into third theology in the fall.

This year’s liturgical reading cycle focuses on Matthew’s Gospel, thus the Passion Narrative that is presented to us this Palm Sunday. Matthew, like Luke, relies heavily on Mark’s Gospel. Luke’s Passion Narrative, however, has a different feel than Mark’s narrative. Luke’s narrative shows us a Jesus who ministers to those around Him to the very end; as grim as the narrative is, it is immersed with compassion and light. That is not the same feeling that is elicited from Matthew’s Passion Narrative. Like Mark’s narrative, from which Matthew greatly draws, Matthew’s narrative is dark with a sense of swirling and impending doom around Jesus. Towards the end of Matthew’s narrative, he records the Lord crying out in the words of Psalm 22: My God, my God, why have you abandoned me (Ps 22: 2)?

As I read again Matthew’s Passion Narrative recently, I must admit that I noticed the weight of the darkness more than in times past. For the past several weeks, we have gradually seen our lives upended by a growing darkness, an invisible enemy that seems to draw nearer and nearer. We call that enemy COVID-19. For many people the anxiety is real concerning worry over the health of those we love, job security, financial resources, and how life might change on the other side of this pandemic. In moments like these we may find ourselves making these words of Psalm 22 our own. But there is more to know with this Psalm.

The Church prays this Psalm every year on Palm Sunday, no matter whether the Passion Narrative is from Matthew, Mark, or Luke. What we hear every year is the beginning of the Psalm; we do not hear the whole Psalm, we do not hear how it ends. The same is true with the Passion Narrative; we hear the beginning of the culmination of the Paschal Mystery but we have to wait a week to hear how it ends, even though we know how it ends.

If you read the whole of Psalm 22, you will find that the prayer turns from one of fear and the sense of anxious abandonment to a prayer of praise and thanksgiving. Psalm 22 has four parts and the turn happens with the beginning of part three. Part two ends with the verses: deliver my soul from the sword, my life from the grip of the dog. Save me from the lion’s mouth, my poor life from the horns of wild bulls (vv 21-22). And then shorty after, in verse 25, the Psalmist prays: For he has not spurned or disdained the misery of this poor wretch, did not turn away from me, but heard me when I cried out. Ultimately, Psalm 22 becomes a prayer of praise to God who hears the cries of His faithful and comes to them in their need.

Men and women far more learned in the Scriptures than I am will argue over what the context was when Jesus made the prayer of Psalm 22 His own. For me this year, the Psalm is made new. Yes, we face an enemy and our peril is real, but just as real is the God we believe in and His power to save. Cast your cares, your fears, and your anxieties on the Lord. He will hear you and respond with the fullness of His grace. Just like with the end of the Passion Narratives, we truly are not in suspense since we know how the story ends. The same is true with this current cross as with all other manifestations of the Cross: the ultimate victory belongs to God to those who place their hope in Him.

Father Christopher House is the Rector of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia, namely Chancellor and Vicar Judicial.

When I was expecting my second son, I remember spending hours poring over decisions on his birth and what I wanted things to look like. Every step of the labor and delivery process was already planned out in my mind. So, when at 40 weeks pregnant and ready to make this plan reality, I experienced a partial placental abruption, I was completely blindsided. Everything that I had anticipated for his birth was undone and I was sent on a completely new path in that single moment. In God’s providential care, my son was born healthy. There was so much suffering that came from that birth, but that moment was also a vital turning point for me as a mother and Catholic and I wouldn’t change it. God allowed it all for a good I couldn’t see yet. I learned the profound lesson that our ways are very often not God’s ways.

This Lent, our entire world has learned a similar lesson at a much larger scale. Many of us planned to spend our days preparing for the Lord’s Passion and Resurrection in a very specific way. Like many of my friends, I had mapped out exactly what I was fasting from and the spiritual practices I would be implementing in order to create a little curated Lenten journey I thought fit to help prepare my heart for these holy days. However, this year we have seen in God’s providential care that he has allowed a new way to be carved out for many Catholics this year. A way that God may see fit to call even more hearts to conversion as the world navigates the immense challenges of a pandemic. We’ve been called to give up far more than most had planned. At the same time we’ve been called to renew our hope and trust in the God who sees beyond any earthly suffering, not as a passive spectator but as the one who took on flesh in order to feel deeply the pangs of human suffering, in order to redeem it. At the end of Lent many of us are realizing God’s plans were not our plans, and His plans will bear so much more fruit even if we don’t see it yet.

The canticle in the second reading helps us commit to heart this reality: no matter how deep our suffering is or how tragic our world becomes, no matter how many plans are disrupted, we have a God who is so profoundly on our side that nobility and earthly power mean nothing to Him. He has literally cloaked Himself in the weight of our sin and sorrow in order to save us and ensure we get back to Him. If I had planned for a king to save the world, the last thing I would plan is a suffering servant who had to endure a horrendous death. But in His mercy and goodness, God planned a way that would convince even the hardest heart that we are never alone, and we will someday be in paradise with Him if we remain faithful and trust in Him.

Author Fr. Jacques Philippe teaches us about this trust in his book “Fire & Light” when he says:

“To the extent we have riches or place our trust in security and human support, we can’t really practice hope, which consists in counting on God alone. God sometimes permits us to go through trials, the loss of some of our security, even lamentable falls, in order that we learn in the end to count on nothing but Him and His mercy. Peter is a good example: he had to fall, denying Christ during his Passion, in order to learn not to lean on his own virtues, his own courage, the momentum of human enthusiasm, but only on the love of Jesus.”

Let us welcome Palm Sunday and our Lord’s Passion this year with new hearts that have been formed by God’s will, even if it didn’t come as we had planned, leaning into the love of Christ and his wounded heart.

Angie Windnagle, BSC is an author for Liturgical Publications, Inc. and writes reflections on the Sunday readings.

The Triduum is the time of the Church year when we celebrate the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This threeday celebration begins with the Holy Thursday Mass and continues on Good Friday with the Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion. At the end of this liturgy, we leave the church in silence, waiting to celebrate the glory of our Lord’s resurrection. Then, on Saturday at sundown, the Church re-gathers to celebrate the final, and most grand moment of the Triduum: the Resurrection of our Lord.

The Triduum is somewhat like a three-day prayer marathon, and if you are a novice there may be some rituals that are unfamiliar to you. This guide will help you walk and pray through the liturgies of the Triduum.

Holy Thursday
The Mass on Holy Thursday is commonly known as the Feast of the Lord’s Supper. This Mass is a time for Catholics to remember the Last Supper where Jesus and his apostles gathered to celebrate Passover. In the Holy Thursday celebration, two ritual actions stand out among the rest:

The Washing of the Feet
At the Last Supper, Jesus took a basin and a towel, got down on his hands and knees and washed the feet of all of his apostles. After this action, he commanded the apostles, “I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do” (John 13:15). This is Jesus’ commandment: Just as Jesus has been a servant to his apostles, so the apostles must go out into the world and be servants to everyone around them.

We are called to do the same in our daily lives. Well, we are not called literally to wash each other’s feet (though sometimes that may be the case). The action of washing one another’s feet reminds us of the call to humble servitude. Foot washing is not a re-enactment or re-creation of a past event, but rather, it is a commemorative action that reminds us that God calls us first and foremost to be servants to others in our daily lives.

The ritual washing of the feet can take place in many ways. Some churches choose to have 12 people, who represent the apostles, have their feet washed by the priest presiding over the celebration. Other churches invite the entire gathered community to have its feet washed (this particular tradition is very powerful because everyone is invited to come and have their feet washed by someone else in their community). However the ritual takes shape, foot washing should always be a reminder that Christ has called us to be servants to the entire world.

The Celebration of the Eucharist and the Eucharistic Procession At the very first Last Supper, Jesus also instituted the Eucharist for the Church. At this Holy Thursday celebration, we are reminded of who we are in Jesus Christ and that, through the sacrament of the Eucharist, we are and we become even more the Body of Christ together.

At the conclusion of the Holy Thursday celebration, there is no concluding prayer. Once the celebration of the Eucharist is completed, there is a Eucharistic Procession (where the Eucharist that is left from Communion is processed to a Chapel of Reservation). This procession to the Chapel of Reservation reminds us of Jesus’ time in the garden of Gethsemane when he prayed so fervently through the night. The entire community is invited to join in this procession and then join in the silent prayer and adoration until night prayer is prayed and the Eucharist is put in the Tabernacle. The gathered community leaves in silence only to return in prayer the next day for the Good Friday celebration.

Reflection Questions for Holy Thursday:

• Who are those people who need our help the most?
• Am I willing to get down on my own hands and knees and help those who are unable to help themselves?
• What does the sacrament of the Eucharist mean to me?

Good Friday: Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion
In this solemn celebration, we remember the Passion and Death of Our Lord. The service is marked by several important rituals including the proclaiming of the Passion according to John, the Veneration of the Cross, an extended form of General Intercessions, and finally, the distribution of Communion (reserved from the Holy Thursday celebration of the Eucharist).

The Veneration of the Cross
It seems strange that in the Good Friday liturgy Catholics choose to venerate, or show reverence to, the very instrument that was used to crucify Jesus. The Veneration of the Cross reminds us that through this Cross, the Glory of the resurrection emerges. So, on Good Friday, we come forward to show our great reverence and respect for the Cross. People have various traditions when they approach the Cross. Sometimes they kiss the Cross, kneel before the Cross, or even just touch it in some fashion. As you participate in this ritual, venerate the Cross in whatever way feels most normal. And most of all, just take in the experience of the gathered community coming so close to such a tragic, but integral, event in our faith.

The General Intercessions
If you enjoy spiritual aerobics, then this ritual is for you! In this expanded form of General Intercessions, the presider and the deacon work together to pray 10 intercessions. These intercessions are the same intercessions the entire Church prays on Good Friday, and they include praying for the Holy Church, praying for the unity of all Christians, praying for the Jewish people, praying for people who do not believe in Christ or in God, praying for people in public office, and praying for people who are suffering or facing difficult times. These prayers recognize how universal our Church is and that we should be aware of all of the faiths and traditions in the world that are different from our own.

Reflection Questions for Good Friday:

• What does the death of Jesus mean to me?
• What does it mean to “Glory in the Cross”?

The Easter Vigil
The celebration of the Easter Vigil tells the whole story of our salvation — from creation to resurrection and beyond. Because of all the ritual moments, this service tends to be on the lengthy side (an average Easter Vigil will last at least 2-2 1/2 hours). But don’t let the length of the celebration detract you from participating. The Easter Vigil includes the lighting of the Easter Fire and Paschal Candle (the large candle that we will use throughout the year), the singing of the Exsultet (the Easter Proclamation), the expanded Liturgy of the Word that traces time through Salvation History (the story of our Salvation), the Liturgy of Initiation (where new people come into the Church), and the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. All these rituals come together for one purpose: to remember and recall the saving deeds of our God on our behalf. Here’s an explanation of two moments from the celebration.

The Singing of the Exsultet
The Exsultet, or the Easter Proclamation, is a hymn that is sung by a deacon, priest, or cantor. This hymn speaks of how God has interceded in our lives on our behalf. The Exsultet especially recalls the Holy Night when Jesus Christ rose from the dead. What makes this moment particularly dramatic is that the Exsultet is sung in a church lit only with the light of the Paschal Candle and other smaller candles, which people are holding. In order to pray this hymn along with the deacon, priest, or cantor, try reflecting on the words of the hymn throughout Holy Saturday.

The Liturgy of the Word
The Liturgy of the Word for the Easter Vigil is comprised of nine readings and seven responsorial psalms. The first reading begins with the story of Creation and then, each subsequent reading recounts the story of our faith lives through history. You’ll hear the story of Issac and Abraham, the story of Moses and the Exodus, and more. All of these readings lead up to the singing of the Gloria when all the lights come on in the church, and then the final reading, the Resurrection of Christ, is proclaimed. Why so many readings? Again, like the singing of the Exsultet, the readings recount the many ways in which God has interceded on our behalf throughout history.

Most churches do not do the entire set of nine readings (for time’s sake). But keep in mind that the point is to recall how God has interceded on humanity’s behalf from the very beginning of time and that through this Easter Vigil we celebrate that God is present and always working in our lives, even still today.

Reflection Questions for the Easter Vigil:

• How has God interceded in my life?
• After hearing the Resurrection story, what events do I see in my own life that are in need of new life, in need of resurrection?
• How can I carry on the story of the resurrection to others? Easter

Throughout these three days, we experience the highs and lows in our faith, ending with the ultimate high — the new life of the resurrection. The Easter Season begins with the Easter Vigil, and we enter a time (50 days) when endless “Alleluias” will ring out throughout all of our liturgical celebrations. May you experience the joy of new life in your own way this Easter Season. Have a happy and blessed Easter!

Julianne E. Wallace is the director of campus ministry at Alvernia University in Reading, Pennsylvania. She is currently working on a D.Min. in Educational Leadership from Virginia Theological Seminary. She earned an M.T.S. in Word and Worship from the Washington Theological Union in Washington, D.C. and a B.A. in Music Performance from the University of Mary Washington in Virginia. Julianne is passionate about sharing the joy of liturgy with others and helping everyone to worship well.