Highlights of the Triduum

Thursday morning (not really part of the Triduum, but it sets the stage), I went to confession. It was a difficult confession as I’d repeated a grievous sin, largely because of my inordinate pride at a small measure of success in reducing the incidence of a slightly less serious sin. The good priests of Holy Ghost had set up extended hours for confession on each of the last three days of last week. I had hoped to go earlier in the week, but found the lines too long. As I mentioned in a Thursday post, my confessor gave me very wise and helpful counsel. I have a degree of hope that I had not previously experienced.

Thursday night we went to the first Mass of the Triduum. We didn’t go to Holy Ghost. In fact, the presiding priest was my confessor’s sacerdotal antithesis – a man that I don’t like for myriad reasons. I was able, though, to seize the opportunity for prayer and to see the sacrament rather than the minister who prepares the sacrament. The Mass ended with Pange Lingua.

Friday I attended Holy Ghost at noon. The church was nearly full. The veneration of the cross was particularly moving.

Saturday was busy. The day was cool, overcast, drizzly and windy. Our parish does a reception after Easter Vigil to which all are invited. My wife and I help with it a bit, but another couple does most of the work. Since one of the scheduled lectors had something prevent his participation, I was given the privilege of proclaiming the Epistle (from Romans 6). When I went to confession in March, my attention was directed to that very chapter. We spent a couple of hours Saturday afternoon getting the room ready for the celebration to come. The Vigil Mass was, as always, profound. This year the priest (who is a wonderful singer) chanted the Exsultet. We used the contemporary music that’s common for the parish, but the Becker Litany of the Saints stood out for being surprisingly good musically. I’m a bit puzzled by the inclusion of Origen and Wenceslaus, but that’s a minor matter. There were twenty-nine people received into the Church. Since I was serving as a lector, we sat in the very front pew and I was able to hear most the dialog as to what confirmation names had been selected.

Sunday stood in stark contrast to Saturday. It was sunny and calm. I took the dog for our morning walk surrounded by Alleluias of color from the sky, the grass, the flowers and the trees. The park was vacant enough that I quietly sang a Te Deum and a litany of the saints as we walked. When I finished, a convocation of birds took up their song. When we got home, I started to prepare for my privilege of proclaiming the Epistle (from I John 5) as lector on Mercy Sunday.