 Holy Week is one of the most meaningful times in the Catholic liturgical year. It invites us to slow down, reflect, and walk step by step through the final days of Jesus’ life. Even if you’re not deeply familiar with every reading, the rhythm of this week tells a powerful story. A story that moves from celebration to sorrow, and ultimately to hope. The week begins with Palm Sunday, which holds a bit of a paradox. At Mass, we hear about Jesus entering Jerusalem to cheers and praise. People wave palm branches and welcome Him as a king. It feels joyful, almost triumphant. But in the same liturgy, we also hear the Passion narrative - the story of His suffering and death. That shift can feel abrupt, but it’s intentional. It reminds us how quickly things can change, and it sets the tone for everything that follows. As the week continues, the daily readings become more intimate and reflective. We hear about betrayal, misunderstanding, and quiet moments between Jesus and His disciples. One theme that stands out is how “human” the people around Jesus are. Judas struggles with his choices. Peter insists he will be faithful but later denies even knowing Jesus. The other disciples are confused and afraid. It’s not hard to see ourselves in them. These readings gently invite us to reflect on our own moments of weakness, doubt, or hesitation. Even the apostles were human and made mistakes! Holy Thursday marks a turning point. The readings focus on the Last Supper, where Jesus shares a final meal with His disciples. This is where we see the institution of the Eucharist, which is central to our Catholic life. But just as important is the act of service that happens during this meal. Jesus washes the feet of His disciples, taking on the role of a servant. It’s a simple but powerful reminder that love is meant to be lived out in humility and action, not just words. Then comes Good Friday, the most solemn day of the week. The readings recount the Passion in full detail. There’s no attempt to soften the story, it’s raw and heavy. Jesus is betrayed, abandoned, mocked, and ultimately crucified. It can be difficult to sit with, especially in a world where we often try to avoid discomfort. But Good Friday invites us to stay present in that sorrow. It’s a moment to reflect on sacrifice, injustice, and the depth of love that chooses to endure suffering for others. What’s striking about Good Friday is the silence that surrounds it. There’s no Mass celebrated that day. The Church feels still, almost suspended in time. That quiet can be uncomfortable, but it also creates space. Space to think, to pray, or simply to sit with the reality of what the day represents. Holy Saturday continues that sense of waiting. The readings often recall the long history of salvation, reminding us that God has been at work across generations, even when it wasn’t obvious. It’s a day that doesn’t get as much attention, but it carries an important message: not every moment of faith is dramatic or clear. Sometimes, it’s about waiting in trust, even when we don’t yet see the outcome. Then, finally, we reach the Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday. The tone shifts completely. The readings proclaim that the tomb is empty and that death does not have the final word. After everything we’ve walked through during the week - the praise, the betrayal, the suffering–this moment feels earned. It’s not just a return to joy, but a deeper, more grounded kind of hope. What makes Holy Week so powerful isn’t just the events themselves, but how they mirror real life. There are moments of celebration, moments of failure, times of deep sorrow, and periods of waiting. But woven through all of it is the reminder that hope is never lost, even when it feels distant. You don’t have to be a biblical scholar to enter Holy Week. Simply paying attention to the readings, even in a small way, can open up new insights. Maybe it’s noticing a detail you hadn’t before or recognizing a part of yourself in one of the readings. Or maybe it’s just allowing yourself to sit with the emotions each day brings. At its heart, Holy Week is an invitation to reflect, to be honest, and to remember that even in the most difficult moments, there is the promise of renewal. That is a message that goes beyond any single week, offering something we can carry with us long after it ends.
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 As Holy Week approaches, and billions of Christians worldwide prepare to unite themselves with Christ in his suffering and resurrection, we are reminded that, despite cultural differences, Christians are more alike than different under the same roof of God’s great Church. Holy Week stands as a reminder of God’s divine mercy, His power over death, and His great sacrifice for all mankind. In this article, I hope to introduce you to five customs from around the world that celebrate our Lord in ways you may not have heard of before! #1 Red Eggs Our first custom brings us to the source of dying easter eggs, a town in modern-day Mesopotamia, Taybeh of Palestine. The easter egg has been largely secularized by western culture, with its religious origins rendered almost completely obsolete, but in Taybeh, the meaning of the dyed egg is still alive and well. While the true origin of the egg is disputed, legends vary. One story holds that when Mary Magdalene proclaimed that Christ had risen to the Roman Emperor Tiberius, he replied that no one could rise from the dead any more than the egg in her hand could turn red. Miraculously, the egg turned red before their eyes. Other tales suggest Mary Magdalene was simply bringing a basket of eggs to the tomb for the women mourning there, and when she witnessed the risen Christ, the eggs turned red. Palestinian Christians still color eggs in remembrance of the passion and resurrection, though their palette has expanded to include various colors as dye became widely available. This year, when you partake in the tradition of dying eggs with your family, think of your brothers and sisters in Taybeh, performing the same ritual thousands of miles away. #2 Pussy Willow Branches Our next tradition brings us to Ukraine, where, due to a lack of palm branches in early spring, Christians used pussy willow branches on Palm Sunday, or Willow Sunday, as they call it. On this day leading up to Holy Week, pussy willow trees are blooming in Ukraine, a perfect replacement for the palm branch. During Mass, these soft branches are blessed and distributed amongst the congregation. After mass, they are kept in the home, usually pinned up behind icons to offer spiritual protection in the home all year round. Other branches are burned as fuel to bake paska, a traditional Easter dessert in Ukraine. Salix discolor—pussy willow—can be found all across Canada and the midwest United States. If you’re celebrating in the area, you may be able to locate some branches to join Ukraine in its old tradition, or even try your hand at baking paska. #3 Lord of Tremors Every Holy Monday, an enormous procession passes through the city of Cusco, Peru. The image of the crucified Black Christ is hoisted above the crowd as onlookers toss red petals, symbolic of His blood. The procession, attended by thousands of Christians every year, memorializes a devastating earthquake that took place nearly four-hundred years ago, on March 31st in 1650. The legend claims that, as a dangerous earthquake shook Cusco, only exposing a forgotten effigy of Christ in the doorway of the Cusco Cathedral was said to stop the tremors. Similar signs occurred over the next few centuries, the most recent earthquake in 1985. These incredible miracles led the statue to be dubbed Lord of Tremors. Ñucchu, vibrant red flowers previously used to venerate the pagan deity Wiracocha, are now used to decorate the statue of the Lord of Tremors. Every year, tourists flock to Cusco to witness the procession. If you don’t know where you’re celebrating Easter yet, it’s not too late to plan a trip! #4 Funeral for a Fish Perhaps the most bizarre lenten tradition was celebrated in villages all across Ireland. As the season for fasting and abstinence comes to a close on Holy Saturday, butchers that suffered from a lack of customers initiated the ‘funeral for a fish,’ in which a dead herring was dangled from a long pole and marched out of town. In some marches, the dead herring was beaten on the ground with its remains then eagerly tossed into the river. Other instances observed a ceremonious approach, with the tradition taking place after Easter mass. A joyful procession would march the herring to be thrown in the river, all the way accompanied by music and laughter. Customs surrounding the ‘funeral’ varied from town to town, but the moral was always the same: Christians were more than happy to be finished with their lenten diet. If you share the same dislike for fish as the Irish used to, perhaps this is a tradition you’d like to reintroduce to your local parish! #5 Penitensya In a disturbing yet beautiful display of devotion, Filipino Christians take to the streets on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday practicing self-flagellation as they march through the neighborhoods. Cloth blindfolds cover the penitents’ faces, maintaining their anonymity as they make their public sacrifice before hundreds of spectators. By the end of the ritual, visible skin is vibrant with blood, clothes stained bright red. The ritual is undertaken as a penance for sins, as well as a sacrifice to unite oneself with Christ in His long walk to Golgotha, for others as a display of gratitude for answered prayers. While Catholic bishops in the Philippines have warned against extreme sacrifice, instead urging the faithful to place an emphasis on prayer, the practice continues, drawing tourists from all over the world to witness the incredible acts of sacrifice. Whether Christians are out in the town beating dead fish, or searching for the eggs a rabbit hid, Holy Week unites our people and their beautiful (and sometimes unusual) traditions under one roof. What a blessing it is to see our Lord celebrated across the world. About the AuthorKyrien Keeton is a student at The Catholic University of America and the Section Editor for news at the independent student newspaper “The Tower.”
 Today marks the beginning of the Sacred Triduum, or the commemoration of the Lord’s Passion, Death, and Resurrection. It is also the climax of the loving salvation about the Creator who endured much in order to save his beloved. We are reminded of the love that envelopes the Triduum in the Gospel passage from the Holy Thursday Mass. The Gospel recounts Jesus washing the disciples’ feet, and it begins by confirming the love Christ has for his beloved: “Jesus knew that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father. He loved his own in the world, and he loved them to the end.” These words precede the entire Passion narrative in John’s Gospel. Their placement at the beginning is significant for how we recount the remainder of the Triduum. We enter Holy Week knowing the events that will unfold during that time. Jesus knew better than anyone what that week of suffering, betrayal, death, and ultimately life would entail. In less than a day he would be tortured in every way imaginable and descend into hell. Yet, Jesus thought about “his own” and how dear they are to him on the night before he suffered. I love how St. John uses the words “his own” to describe Jesus’ apostles. There are numerous times in his Gospel where John uses “the world” to describe the human race, but “his own” emphasizes the love and care Jesus had during the Passion. He, the Good Shepherd, claimed his sheep, and that claim extends to us two millennia later. The love he had for the flock was so great that he suffered individually for each sheep. Just as Jesus took the time to individually wash each disciple’s feet, he thought about you, me, and every human to ever exist during his sufferings. Christ’s contemplation never fails to astound me, especially knowing that his chosen band will fail to keep watch with him and stand by his side during the hardest moment of his life. The pain he must have felt at their abandonment, especially loving his apostles as much as he did, must have been heart-wrenching. For me, one of the hardest realities of Holy Week is knowing that the pain Christ endured continues when I fail to be his disciple and flee from his goodness through sin. Recounting the immense tribulation Jesus endured for the salvation of the world is a chilling reality, but considering his sacrifice was not confined to first-century Jerusalem brings a feeling of guilt, especially thinking about each one of my sins adding dead weight to the cross. Yet, the love Christ felt for his disciples before and during the Passion is the same love he holds for all of us. And that love which gushed forth from his heart at the cross is stronger than any of the weight our sins adds to the cross. It can be hard to respond to this beautiful reality because of the scars of our sins. Looking at the apostles, however, can provide guidance for our next steps. While they all denied Christ in some capacity during the Passion, they returned to the Lord. John wakes up from his slumber and goes to the foot of the cross. On Easter Sunday, Peter runs to the tomb of the Lord he denied. Thomas comes to fully believe that the risen Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The ones who ran away from Jesus eventually ran out to the world, boldly proclaiming the Good News. They go on to live their lives like Christ as they loved Jesus “to the end”. The events of the Passion were not the end of their stories because of Jesus’ fierce love for his own. Through God’s mercy, our stories are not over either, no matter how many times we have fallen in our faith. Christ, out of his tremendous love for us, waits for us to come back to him. One way to physically return to him this Triduum is through Adoration. Many churches offer Adoration after their Holy Thursday Masses so their parishioners can keep watch with Christ in the garden. If you are able, take a moment to be with the one who loved and suffered much for your sake. He went through much just so he could be with us both in the present age, and more importantly, the age to come.
 It is officially Holy Week. On Sunday, we commemorated Christ’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem as the people laid down palm fronds and cried out, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord...Hosanna in the highest!”. In many dioceses, the Chrism Mass was celebrated on Monday at which the bishop or archbishop consecrated the holy oils that will be used at the Easter Vigil and in upcoming celebrations of Baptism, Confirmation, Ordination, and the Anointing of the Sick. The Chrism Mass is a beautiful sign of unity amongst the presbyterate of a diocese and closeness with their bishop. At our campus ministry, we chose to make the Chrism Mass our daily Mass on the Monday of Holy Week, shepherding our community to this beautiful liturgy where the Oils of Chrism and Catechumen, which will be used to fully initiate six of our students at the Easter Vigil, will be blessed. When many of us think of Holy Week, we think of the Paschal Triduum: Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. We shouldn’t look at these days like just any other Thursday, Friday, or Sunday (and Saturday); they’re the most important ones of each week. On Holy Thursday, we begin what is one liturgy which lasts from Thursday through the end of Easter Sunday, unfolding Christ's Paschal Mystery for us. We have a lot to be grateful for on Holy Thursday, especially the institution of the Eucharist and the priesthood. Holy Thursday’s liturgy is called the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, calling to mind the Last Supper shared in the upper room by Christ and his disciples. At that meal, Jesus gives us the Holy Eucharist, his body, blood, soul, and divinity, which we partake in every time we go to Mass. It is by the priesthood that Christ instituted our share in that Eucharist. We should not forget that Christ not only instituted the Eucharist and priesthood on Holy Thursday, but also gave us the perfect model of humility and service when he washed his disciples’ feet in the Gospel of John. Holy Thursday is an opportunity to reflect upon the humility of our Lord who humbled himself to wash the feet of those who would betray and abandon him and who continues to come to us in the humble form of bread and wine. Good Friday is not a Mass but a service of our Lord’s Passion. We recall Christ’s passion and death by adoring the cross, the instrument of Jesus’ suffering and death, and simultaneously, his throne. On Good Friday, like on the day Jesus died, a silence comes over the world as Jesus descends into hell. While bloody and an instance of great sorrow, we should take time to reflect on Christ’s sacrifice on Good Friday. He who became sin and yet himself was sinless took to an instrument of government torture and execution for you and for me to offer us redemption and salvation with no motivation other than love! If the stainless lamb could give everything for me, then what should I be willing to endure to hope to spend eternity with that same Christ? And then we arrive to Holy Saturday: a day of silence, a day of mourning, a day of expectation. While Christ’s disciples were frantic and worried, grieving the loss of their friend and master, we know how the story ends. When the Easter Vigil arrives, we can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel! That light is not merely a candle or the headlight of a car on a dark road, but THE light, the light of the world, the triumphant Christ who has defeated sin and death for us. At the Easter Liturgy, we celebrate and meditate on this victory over sin and death, and we also celebrate our brothers and sisters becoming fully initiated Catholics by receiving the sacraments of initiation. What better way is there to celebrate the gift of salvation by witnessing and celebrating with those men and women who become children of God in Baptism and receive the fullness of Baptismal grace in Confirmation? Easter is so much more than just bunnies and chocolate. Easter is the most important day in human history and an annual commemoration of the greatest gift we’ve been given: the offer and promise of salvation, won for us by God who became man. There is so much to think and pray about this Holy Week, so much to celebrate and to commemorate. Maybe this is the first Holy Week that you’re trying to enter deeply into the mysteries. Maybe you’re not totally sure. But as my friend and co-worker in the vineyard Fr. Mike says to our students, “just do the thing!”. Give Christ a chance to change your heart in a way he never has this Holy Week. You won’t regret it.
 Holy Week is one of my favorite weeks of the year; each of the days builds with anticipation and I get excited just by the thought of Easter Sunday. Lent is almost through and it’s almost time to be joyful in the Risen Lord. When I was little, I felt this anticipation and excitement too. I would spend Holy Week letting people know that Easter was only a couple short days away—it felt like spring would officially be here as soon as we woke up on Easter Sunday! “The very best holiday of the year” was coming, and I had to get ready for it! Did I fully understand it was Christ that I was waiting for or did I just want to wear my new white shoes for church? Looking back, although it could have been the new Easter shoes, I think my 10 year-old-self would have agreed that I really was waiting for Holy Week as the final stretch to the finish line on a journey that began on Ash Wednesday. In today’s Gospel reading, we read about moments of betrayal and loyalty. Judas leaves the Last Supper to betray Jesus while Peter in his humanity says that he will never deny him. I find it to be one of the most powerful Gospels of Holy Week. Here’s why: Like Peter, we are called to be disciples whose repentance leads to an experience of God’s forgiveness. Jesus knows that his friends will betray him and that he has limited time left on Earth. On one hand, Judas tries not to be obvious about his deception as he leaves the table, and on the other hand, Peter publicly tells Christ that he will stand by him and never fail him. Ultimately, both men betray Jesus, but it’s Peter who seeks forgiveness and allows himself a second chance. Judas, on the other hand, is overcome with guilt and despairs that his sin is beyond the reach of God’s mercy-- eventually taking his own life. We are like Peter in so many ways! We say we love Christ and that we could never deny him, but at the first sign of pressure we sin and turn our backs on him. How often have we chosen to do something that pulls our hearts from Jesus? It is during Lent—especially during Holy Week—that we recall the pain we’ve caused Christ. This week and each day, Jesus gives us another chance to say to him, “Forgive me; I have sinned.” When Christ meets his disciples after his Resurrection, he asks Peter, “Do you love me?” Let us respond with Peter this Easter, “Yes Lord, you know that I love you!” As Easter approaches, we remember how much we are loved by Christ in his Passion, death on the Cross, and soon to be Resurrection. In these next few days, I challenge you not to say, “Lord I could never deny you!” but instead, “Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned.” Last year on Good Friday, Pope Francis said, “Lord Jesus, always grant us the grace of holy repentance...the spark of hope is lit in the darkness of our despair, because we know that your only measure for loving us is to love us without measure.” This Holy Week, in this time for “holy repentance,” let us make sure to spend these last days in Lent with our hearts preparing for Easter. May we use these remaining days in the desert as a time for forgiveness and allow our hearts to be loved by Christ. May all of our hearts gleam with anticipation for Holy Week and better knowledge of the Risen Lord! **This blog was originally published on April 16, 2019.**
It’s amazing to think that we have wandered with Jesus in the desert for nearly forty days now. I have taken this Lenten season to feel more connected with Jesus and strengthen my relationship with him in prayer. This past Sunday, the Church celebrated Palm Sunday, which commemorates Jesus’ journey into Jerusalem and marks the first day of Holy Week, one of the most important times in our faith. The rest of this week consists of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter, all of which are wonderful times to reflect on the strength and love shown by Jesus during his final days, his Death, and his Resurrection.
The Gospel for this past week is one that I always find interesting to hear, as it gives a lot of insight into some of the traditions that we see during our usual Sunday services. For example, in this Gospel we hear about the Body and Blood of Christ at the Last Supper, “While they were eating, Jesus took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and giving it to his disciples said, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, from now on I shall not drink this fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it with you new in the kingdom of my Father (Mt 26:14—27:66).” While not the direct translation said during Mass, this is something that we hear every time we are at church, something that is just ingrained in the flow of Mass, yet here, in one of the most important readings in our faith, we see how it first began. I like to imagine myself as a fly on the wall during the Last Supper. How did the apostles react? What was their body language? Were they scared, confused, or excited to be with Jesus? Jesus knew what he was about to face on the Cross; he knew about his eventual Death and Resurrection. Yet, he knew his work before those events was not done; he had to continue to preach to the apostles. In hindsight, probably no one would’ve expected him to do that; he was facing death! Nowadays, people will say, “If you knew you only had one week left before you died, what would you do?” The usual answers are things like going on a fancy vacation, winning the lottery, and completing items on one’s bucket list, but the reality is that most of us don’t know when our time will come. On the contrary, Jesus did know what his fate would be when he entered Jerusalem. He knew the importance of his death on the Cross, and he knew it was important for him not to stray from his intentions. The strength shown by Jesus in this Last Supper is one that few could’ve shown, and it is important for us to recognize as we continue through Holy Week. As we finish up our 2023 Lenten season, I hope that you all have taken some time to deepen your relationship with Christ and reflect on the importance of the season in your own heart. May these last few days of Lent guide you through some of the darkest days of our Church into the glory of the Resurrection. I hope you all have a wonderful Easter celebration!
 From the evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper until Evening Prayer on Easter Sunday, the Church celebrates a very special period called the Paschal Triduum. As the USCCB explains, the Easter Triduum is the summit of the Liturgical Year which “marks the end of the Lenten season.” Because of this important spiritual shift, there are some symbols used during this liturgical season that are unique to the Paschal Triduum, and I hope that you might find and reflect on these symbols this year as we commemorate the life, death, and Resurrection of Christ. Holy Thursday Holy Oils The Holy Oils that are used by the Church throughout the year (Oil of the Sick, Oil of the Catechumens, and Holy chrism) may be presented during the entrance procession of the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday. These oils are blessed by the Bishop during the Chrism Mass—which can happen on Holy Thursday or another time during Holy Week—with the priests of the diocese gathered at the local cathedral. During this celebration, all of the priests present renew their priestly vows. Ringing of the Bells During the “Gloria” which is sung on Holy Thursday, we hear the altar bells ringing! We are celebrating the Mass for the last time until the Easter Vigil, and the Church is in mourning so the bells will remain silent until we sing the “Gloria” again. Washing of the Feet As Jesus did at the Last Supper (John 14:1-17), the Church is called to wash the feet of the members of the Body of Christ during the celebration of the Institution of the Eucharist. This symbol of humility is a wonderful connection with the service of Christ. Ubi Caritas It is rare that the Church prescribes a specific hymn to be sung other than those prescribed for the Proper of the Mass, yet on Holy Thursday the Roman Missal says that we should sing the ancient song “Ubi Caritas” during the Offertory. A very simple song, the lyrics are very meaningful, especially for the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. Translated, they mean "Where charity is, God is there." Eucharistic Procession and Reposition The Church’s tabernacle, while normally filled with the Blessed Sacrament and reserved hosts, is emptied and brought to the Altar of Repose where the faithful are invited to join in Adoration. This procession is meant to be of great importance for the community and reminds us of the walk that Christ is about to take the following day on the Via Dolorosa, but instead of being nailed to a cross, we place our King in a place of honor. Good Friday Fonts After the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday, churches are supposed to empty their Holy Water fonts “in preparation of the blessing of the water at the Easter Vigil, and it corresponds to those days on which the Eucharist is not celebrated (i.e., Good Friday and Holy Saturday).” (EWTN) Prostration On Good Friday, the Church is mourning the death of Christ and is full of sorrow. In response to this sorrow, the priest (and deacon, if present) prostates himself in front of a stark, barren altar. There is no music and none of the regular pomp and circumstance that comes with the beginning of a liturgical celebration. No sacraments are to be celebrated but that of penance and the anointing of the sick. The earth has gone quiet. No Invitation Normally, when a priest begins Mass, he invites us all to pray along with him, saying, “Let us pray.” During the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion (Good Friday), no such invitation is made. The priest just begins his invocation. Solemn Intercessions You may find that the prayers of the faithful may take longer than normal. Your church may sing them or have them chanted, with some kneeling and standing interspersed. Adoration of the Holy Cross There are many ways in which the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion is different from other liturgical celebrations, and the adoration of the Cross is certainly one of them. We are invited to come forward and spend time in veneration and adoration of the Cross on this most solemn of days – the day on which Christ perished while hanging from the very cross which we venerate. You may notice people genuflecting to the cross – this is something reserved specifically for Good Friday, out of veneration and sorrow for the blood which was shed and soaked up by the wood of the cross. Communion The Celebration of the Lord’s Supper is not a Mass. It is the one day out of the year in which no Mass is celebrated anywhere on Earth. Therefore, when we come to the celebration, there is no Eucharistic Prayer or any prayer related until, after the Adoration of the Holy Cross, the priest or deacon brings out the Blessed Sacrament and begins praying the Agnus Dei as it is normally done at Mass, which follows with himself and others receiving the Blessed Sacrament. Holy Saturday and the Easter Vigil Decoration When one walks into the church for the Easter Vigil, they will notice a big change from the celebrations of Lent and Holy Week – the church should be decorated with lilies, white and gold, and a joyful décor! While the lights should be turned down as well, we are anticipating the Resurrection and the excitement is palpable! The Light of Christ From the fire used to light the Easter Candle, the inscriptions on the Easter Candle, and the procession into the Church, light is integral to the Easter Vigil due to its representation of the "light of Christ, rising in glory," scattering the "darkness of our hearts and minds." We process into the Church with the Easter Candle, “just as the children of Israel were guided at night by the pillar of fire, so Christians follow the risen Christ” as we proclaim The Light of Christ while singing praises of thanksgiving! (USCCB) Readings Instead of the standard 3 readings at a Sunday Mass, at the Easter Vigil we generally hear anywhere between 5 and 9 readings. As we prepare to celebrate some of the holiest days in our Church, I invite you to observe the different rituals, customs, and symbols present during the Triduum. May you have a blessed and joyous Easter season! Question for Reflection: What changes do you notice from the Lent to Easter season? For more resources to guide you throughout the Triduum into the Easter season, please click here. *This post was originally published on 4/9/2019.
 I often find myself avoiding sad and painful things, searching to find a silver lining and help make me or someone else feel better. It can be at the cost of seeming empathetic, too, like avoiding sitting with the pain and instead dealing with it head on. My immediate reaction is to fix something broken or to solve a problem instead of to actually let it sink in and affect me. Growing up, this was a coping mechanism that I’ve been able to turn into a strength of mine as a teacher, making split-second decisions and problem-solving throughout the day. Personally though, I think I need to wrestle with it. As we enter into the saddest, most heart-wrenching day of the year, my gut says “avoid the topic, think about Sunday,” but instead I’m going to go a little deeper for Good Friday this year. Good Friday was what I can only imagine to be a marathon of a day for Christ to endure, only to end with his sacrifice in the Crucifixion. The brutality and agony that he must have felt while carrying his cross can be overwhelming to think about. He carried it bleeding, tired, hungry, and aching from the weight of such an enormous cross. I’ve never experienced pain like that, so I’ve found it easy to skip through, acknowledging it happened and moving on. But this is where I’ve gotten it wrong: Christ did all of that for me, for us, for every human being on this Earth. Jesus did that so we wouldn’t have to experience it for ourselves and could be together with God in his Kingdom one day. This day is the one I shouldn’t overlook. The Stations of the Cross, a 14-step reflection on the Passion of Christ, is the perfect place for me to start contemplating Christ’s sacrifice on Good Friday. While there are many versions of this devotion, I’m using the Stations of the Cross in the Spirit of St. Vincent Pallotti to help me think more clearly about the meaning of Good Friday. There are many different Stations of the Cross to use depending on your spirituality, vocation, or age. In my classroom I like to use a coloring book version and when I taught 2nd grade, we liked this one for children. For this year’s study, I think I’ll also try this Scriptural Stations of the Cross from the USCCB’s website, located on the Catholic Apostolate Center’s resource page as well. I hope to think more deeply and clearly about the Passion of Christ and appreciate a little more heavily the price he paid for me, everyone I know, and beyond. There are many signs throughout this Triduum that we can think about in addition to praying with the Stations of the Cross. Tonight on Holy Thursday, the tabernacle was emptied and colored cloth was placed there instead. There will be no consecration of the Eucharist until the Easter Vigil and instead of Mass, we pray, remember, and venerate the Cross. The color for Good Friday’s services changes too: red is now the color we see and use to remember his blood shed for us. Red was also the color used on Palm Sunday, when Jesus made his way through palm branches on a donkey into the City of Jerusalem in joyous celebration. These signs in church help us remember all that Christ did for us. We may take his sacrifice for granted possibly because it is easier to avoid the sad and scary realities about the time between Jesus’ arrest and Easter morning. We also may be too “busy” to stop and reflect on not just the happy moments when Jesus was teaching, but also how he gave His life to save ours. In our lives, we must continue to appreciate and enjoy the good parts of Christ’s life and ministry. We can live knowing that the end is happy and He is Risen on Easter morning. But without Good Friday, we wouldn’t have Easter Sunday. Tomorrow on Good Friday, I invite you to join me on this sad and painful day as I look more deeply at the Stations of the Cross. For additional resources, please visit the “Additional Lenten Resources” page on the Catholic Apostolate Center page.
 Next week is Holy Week. Before we arrive there and enter the most solemn of days of the Church year, the Easter Triduum, we come to another Solemnity during the Lenten season. Last week, it was the Solemnity of St. Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary and patron of the Universal Church. Tomorrow, it is the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord. Both offer us examples of how to respond to God’s action in our lives. The Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph responded freely and fully to God’s invitation announced by the angel to move in directions that they did not expect. While we may not have an angel announcing God’s will for us, in what ways do we discern the direction that we are called to take? Recently, I attended the religious profession of a Benedictine monk who is a former student of mine. Some of those who attended the Mass and profession ceremony in support of him were also former students who are now either diocesan or religious priests or married with children. (Some are also former staff members and collaborators of the Center.) Each in their own way has followed God’s invitation to them. In and through their chosen vocations, they have found joy in living more deeply their Christian life.. While they have found joy, they also know what it means to take up the cross and follow Jesus Christ as his disciples. None of them made the choices that they did easily, but did so through cooperation with the grace of Christ. We are called to the same. Holy Week offers us an important opportunity to reflect, discern, and act on God’s will in our lives. Join us on social media for our Virtual Holy Week retreat. We offer it as a way of doing this type of discernment in the context of this most solemn time. Please know that our prayers are with you, especially during the Easter Triduum and season. May the charity of Christ urge us on!
 There are few sights like a church on fire. The fire which raged from the roof of the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris on the evening of April 15, 2019 was different: thanks be to God that it (at this time of writing) does not appear to be caused by anything more than renovation negligence and that no one was killed in the blaze. The evening of the fire, the attention of the world focused on the smoke billowing above the Parisian skyline as first responders battled the flames to save the most iconic church in France. In the scenes broadcast from the River Seine, I not only saw the intensity of the fire that toppled the historic spire, but I also observed the more subtle fanning of the embers of a faith long thought to be extinguished in the hearts of the French people. Watching a tragedy stirs up strong emotions within even the most hardened of hearts. Many scenes of prayers being offered or sacred hymns being sung—despite perhaps intense feelings of helplessness—were reported by passers-by, pilgrims, and tourists alike. Furthermore, support was expressed around the world for the Church and her members in France. The sight of the beautiful cathedral of the capital city apparently being irreparably damaged was a very sad one indeed, especially during Holy Week. The many treasures at risk included the Most Holy Eucharist and relics of Christ’s Passion. Different people took different meanings from that incredible sight: many were shaking their heads and crying at the destruction of a landmark cultural icon, others mourned the apparent loss of a grand local spiritual refuge, and some saw a Church which has long suffered against secularism appear in danger of collapse. Here’s what I observed: seeing a church burning on live television is indeed a heart-stopping scene, but I am—and dare I say God is—more interested in seeing hearts burn within a person! Seeing a man fully alive and in touch with his values, faith, or beliefs rather than suppressing them when inconvenient or unpopular is inspiring and a great witness. The voices of the people in Paris were publically lifted in singing ancient hymns and prayers for the salvation of the physical church building and the Catholic Church overall. Secularism has long been taking root in France, so seeing this active and public embrace of faith was incredibly touching. In times of despair or tragedy, people have been historically observed to seek sanctuary and emotional healing in churches and places of worship. Just think of cities in Europe, at risk of invasion or disease, in which people flocked to pray together for deliverance or divine mercy. Even in the United States after 9/11 and other heinous acts of violence, the churches with formerly empty pews were crowded with voices raised together in hopeful prayer to counter bowed heads of sorrow. As Christians we do not mourn like those who have no hope, but even in our sadness we can lift our eyes to God, breathe to calm ourselves, and confidently pray, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” From these collective acts of faith, the hope of spiritual renewal can be strong. The seeds of faith instilled in youth but unnourished later in life may suddenly be rediscovered and re-cultivated by God’s grace and perhaps the shock of the sudden end of the status quo. Intense personal reflection and the reevaluation of priorities may ensue to further sustain spiritual growth and comfort. Imagine the state of the Church had the apostles not been inflamed with the indwelling of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Just as those followers of Christ rediscovered God in the Upper Room thousands of years ago, so too can we encounter the fire of the Holy Spirit to bring light to the confused, healing to the broken, and peace to the conflicted. The fires of faith have not been extinguished, as we have beautifully seen, but rather the embers are still hot and glowing, just needing to be stirred up again to blaze towards Heaven. As Pope Francis tweeted, let us “unite in prayer with the people of France, as we wait for the sorrow inflicted by the serious damage to be transformed into hope with reconstruction. Holy Mary, Our Lady, pray for us.” May Notre-Dame, our Blessed Mother, pray for us!
 Holy Week can be the most emotionally intense period of the liturgical year. Beginning with Palm Sunday, we notice some changes to the usual liturgy, namely: the opening reading, the much longer narrated Gospel, the red vestments, and the presence of blessed palms. As the week continues, our anticipation may be building towards an emotional peak, probably the commemoration of Christ’s death on Good Friday or His Resurrection on Easter Sunday. We may be tempted to take it all in stride and grimace at the raw details of Jesus’s sacred Passion while holding on for the joys of the Easter proclamation. We are, after all, the “Easter people and Alleluia is our song,” according to St. John Paul the Great. I have found myself guilty of this detachment sometimes and now propose, as we have already entered Holy Week, that we immerse ourselves into the intense details—that raw, human emotion—of the Triduum in order to accompany Christ more closely during the most significant moments of His earthly ministry and the fulfillment of salvific history. On Palm Sunday, we celebrate the entrance of the Savior into Jerusalem, that sacred capital of the Jewish nation then occupied by the Roman Empire. The joys and uproars that Jesus’s entrance brings facilitate the events at the end of the week, when we observe the frenzied crowd turning against the One they now hail as the long-awaited Messiah. Of course, Jesus knows fully what will come to pass in the next days before the Passover. Do we stand among the crowds welcoming Jesus into our hearts and wanting Him to rule over us as the eternal Heavenly King, or are we like the jealous plotting authorities who resent Jesus over His exposure of our hypocrisy and prideful nature? The days between Palm Sunday and Holy Thursday are filled with anticipation. An observer of the times could tell something big was about to happen in Jerusalem. The holy city would soon be embroiled in the rancor sowed by the authorities against Jesus rather than preparing to celebrate the annual Passover meal. Are we spending this time of calm in prayer and preparation in the presence of the Lord, or are we going about our daily routine until we face the ugliness that has been fermenting against Jesus and that forces us to decide if we will stand against the crowds for the sake of the Savior? Holy Thursday arrives and already the focus may be towards the one evening Mass scheduled at the parish. Many dioceses celebrate the annual Chrism Mass earlier in the day, during which the sacred oils of ministry are blessed by the bishop and distributed among the parishes from the cathedral. In the evening, the Last Supper and the Agony in the Garden of Gethsemane are commemorated with liturgical richness: the humble washing of feet, solemn processions, chanting, the use of candles, Eucharistic adoration after the tabernacle is emptied, and then… silence. There is so much to unpack. We can ask ourselves: Am I heeding the Lord’s request to “Keep watch and pray”? Am I remaining vigilant and faithfully at the side of our Lord as he leads the Passover meal, praying with Him in the garden, or not abandoning Him during His arrest? We, of course, cannot celebrate Easter Sunday without recalling Good Friday. This year, I invite you to place yourself at the foot of the cross and gaze upon Christ crucified. With the Blessed Mother and St. John beside you, behold the sight of the suffering Savior, scourged and dying. Listen to His seven final words and feel their intensity. Here the cruelest injustices have been heaped upon Jesus; He bears them willingly and lovingly. Recall your own failings, which have driven nails and scourged the sacred flesh of our Lord. This can be a true time of repentance and faith. Do I offer even a fraction of the love being poured out from the cross this day? The darkness of Good Friday recedes, Holy Saturday arrives and there is…more silence. Our Beloved Lord has died and there is a sudden emptiness as we come to terms with the reality that the departed is gone. We must not gloss over this period before Easter Sunday: take time to mourn for our Lord and the human acts of sin which buried Him in the tomb. It had to occur, but it is not the end. We do not mourn for the dead as if we have no hope— because of the Resurrection, Christians do not fear death or even despise suffering. Jesus bore the worst in humanity with love and died to accomplish salvation for all who seek it. In the holy silence of Holy Saturday, am I reflecting on the events that have passed, long foretold by the biblical prophets, as Mary and the disciples did in the Upper Room? On Saturday evening, we experience the Easter Vigil. This extraordinary Mass begins in darkness outside the Church with the Service of Light in which a “blazing fire” is used to light the Paschal candle. This candle processes through the church and is used to light the unlit candles of all present. Nine readings from the Old and New Testament are read, recounting significant moments of salvation history. It is during this Mass that the Church also welcomes new members from the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults into the Body of Christ. The congregation joins in the renewal of baptismal promises and recalls their own Sacraments of Initiation. In the wonder of this Easter Vigil, are we joining wholeheartedly in the joy and celebration of the Resurrection? Do we marvel at the re-telling of the mighty acts of God throughout human history? Do we rejoice in welcoming new members to the Church? Finally Easter Sunday, the world rejoices with the proclamation, Christus vincit! Christus regnat! Christus imperat! Christ conquers! Christ reigns! Christ commands! We proclaim Christ’s great salvific act but do not shy away from what He endured to accomplish that eternal victory. We glorify Christ who has ascended from the depths of death to rescue humanity and deliver them to the throne of God. Nothing like this has happened before. The world celebrates God’s great love! Do we joyfully proclaim Christ to those who have no hope in their lives, who yearn for meaning and purpose? By taking the time each day of Holy Week to reflect upon the nuances and details of these great events in Scripture, we can better prepare for the emotional gravitas of the liturgies this week and accompany Christ himself. The graces of standing firm and being witnesses to His Passion can yield the same reward first achieved by the good thief crucified next to Jesus, to whom Christ declared, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” For more resources to accompany you in your Lenten and Easter journeys, please click here.
 Holy Week is one of my favorite weeks of the year; each of the days builds with anticipation and I get excited just by the thought of Easter Sunday. Lent is almost through and it’s almost time to be joyful in the Risen Lord. When I was little, I felt this anticipation and excitement too. I would spend Holy Week letting people know that Easter was only a couple short days away—it felt like spring would officially be here as soon as we woke up on Easter Sunday! “The very best holiday of the year” was coming, and I had to get ready for it! Did I fully understand it was Christ that I was waiting for or did I just want to wear my new white shoes for church? Looking back, although it could have been the new Easter shoes, I think my 10 year-old-self would have agreed that I really was waiting for Holy Week as the final stretch to the finish line on a journey that began on Ash Wednesday. In today’s Gospel reading, we read about moments of betrayal and loyalty. Judas leaves the Last Supper to betray Jesus while Peter in his humanity says that he will never deny him. I find it to be one of the most powerful Gospels of Holy Week. Here’s why: Like Peter, we are called to be disciples whose repentance leads to an experience of God’s forgiveness. Jesus knows that his friends will betray him and that he has limited time left on Earth. On one hand, Judas tries not to be obvious about his deception as he leaves the table, and on the other hand, Peter publicly tells Christ that he will stand by him and never fail him. Ultimately, both men betray Jesus, but it’s Peter who seeks forgiveness and allows himself a second chance. Judas, on the other hand, is overcome with guilt and despairs that his sin is beyond the reach of God’s mercy-- eventually taking his own life. We are like Peter in so many ways! We say we love Christ and that we could never deny him, but at the first sign of pressure we sin and turn our backs on him. How often have we chosen to do something that pulls our hearts from Jesus? It is during Lent—especially during Holy Week—that we recall the pain we’ve caused Christ. This week and each day, Jesus gives us another chance to say to him, “Forgive me; I have sinned.” When Christ meets his disciples after his Resurrection, he asks Peter, “Do you love me?” Let us respond with Peter this Easter, “Yes Lord, you know that I love you!” As Easter approaches, we remember how much we are loved by Christ in his Passion, death on the Cross, and soon to be Resurrection. In these next few days, I challenge you not to say, “Lord I could never deny you!” but instead, “Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned.” Last year on Good Friday, Pope Francis said, “Lord Jesus, always grant us the grace of holy repentance...the spark of hope is lit in the darkness of our despair, because we know that your only measure for loving us is to love us without measure.” This Holy Week, in this time for “holy repentance,” let us make sure to spend these last days in Lent with our hearts preparing for Easter. May we use these remaining days in the desert as a time for forgiveness and allow our hearts to be loved by Christ. May all of our hearts gleam with anticipation for Holy Week and better knowledge of the Risen Lord!
 On the evening of our wedding, after the ceremony and reception, my husband and I knelt down and washed each other’s feet. It was an act of love and humility that we wanted to be the foundation of our marriage. We had a beautiful example: A King who washed the feet of peasants; a Savior who washed the feet of sinners; a Friend who washed the feet of betrayers. The washing of the disciples’ feet was the act of a dying man. With the last few moments of his precious life, Jesus knelt down. In the last hours with his closest friends, he served. This was the manifestation of the new commandment he was to give moments later at the Last Supper: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” Love. This is what it is all about—the meaning of the Christian life. Jesus models love by washing not only the feet of his beloved friends, but of those who will betray him. He knows not only of Judas’ betrayal, but also of Peter’s—which probably stung him even more. He knows Peter, James, and John will fall asleep with him in the Garden. He knows that almost all of his disciples will flee during his torture and crucifixion. And yet he removes his outer garments and kneels to wash their dusty feet. It would not have been a pleasant affair; their feet would have been caked in dirt and bathed in dust. Perhaps their toenails were long. The feet of these gruff men would have stunk. But I do not imagine that Christ poured just a few drops of water on their feet ceremoniously and then moved on. I believe he spent a few quiet moments with each Apostle, truly washing their feet clean of dirt and grime, and making each feel like the only person in the room. I imagine him drying them tenderly, and looking up with eyes that said, “I do all of this for you.” Were the Apostles embarrassed by such a vulnerable display of affection? Scripture tells us that Peter recoils and says, “You will never wash my feet.” For one man to kneel down and wash the feet of another required vulnerability. For the King of Kings to kneel down and wash the feet of sinners required sacrificial, humble, earth-shattering love. This love culminates for us this week on Good Friday, when we commemorate the crucifixion and death of Christ. While the Church remembers the washing of the disciple’s feet on Holy Thursday, my husband and I have started a tradition of washing each other’s feet on our anniversary. Most recently, we did this on Valentine’s Day. On the day our culture celebrates love, it seemed appropriate to once again remind ourselves of what love actually looks like. Has anyone ever washed your feet? Perhaps it was part of a Holy Week service at your church or school. Perhaps it was part of a retreat you went on. To have your feet washed is an intimate experience. I think it is often more uncomfortable for the one getting their feet washed than it is for the one doing the washing. In my case, I’m usually worried my feet smell or that my nails aren’t groomed. I’m so worried about what my feet will reveal about me and what the other person is thinking that it’s hard for me to enjoy and appreciate the solemnity and beauty of this moment. Perhaps my thoughts echo Peter: “You will never wash my feet.” As we draw nearer and nearer to the pinnacle of our faith celebrated in the Triduum, we are probably coming to the end of Lent with dusty feet. We’ve trampled for about forty days in the desert and have probably stumbled in our Lenten observances a few times. Our feet may be caked in inadequacy, sin, or weakness. Maybe you, like me, are thinking so much about what’s on your feet that you’re unable to look Christ in the eye and allow him to thoroughly wash you. As we enter into Holy Week, I invite you to pray about what keeps you from allowing Christ’s gaze to meet your own. What causes you to join Peter in saying, “You will never wash my feet”? As Pope Francis said during his Apostolic Visit to Cuba, Jesus “came precisely to seek out all those who feel unworthy of God, unworthy of others. Let us allow Jesus to look at us. Let us allow his gaze to run over our streets. Let us allow that look to become our joy, our hope.” Christ’s response to Peter’s hesitancy is: “Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.” Perhaps he is saying that we will be unable to live a life of discipleship if we have not experienced his gaze—the sacrificial love of God. It is this encounter with Christ, with his gaze, that transforms us. We love because we have first been loved—this is our joy, our hope. This Easter season, may you experience Christ’s life-changing gaze as you allow him to wash your feet. Questions for Reflection: What keeps you from allowing Christ’s gaze to meet your own? What causes you to join Peter in saying, “You will never wash my feet”? For more resources to accompany you during the Lenten and Easter seasons, please click here.
 From the evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper until Evening Prayer on Easter Sunday, the Church celebrates a very special period called the Paschal Triduum. As the USCCB explains, the Easter Triduum is the summit of the Liturgical Year which “marks the end of the Lenten season.” Because of this important spiritual shift, there are some symbols used during this liturgical season that are unique to the Paschal Triduum, and I hope that you might find and reflect on these symbols this year as we commemorate the life, death, and Resurrection of Christ. Holy Thursday Holy Oils The Holy Oils that are used by the Church throughout the year (Oil of the Sick, Oil of the Catechumens, and Holy chrism) may be presented during the entrance procession of the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday. These oils are blessed by the Bishop during the Chrism Mass—which can happen on Holy Thursday or another time during Holy Week—with the priests of the diocese gathered at the local cathedral. During this celebration, all of the priests present renew their priestly vows. Ringing of the Bells During the “Gloria” which is sung on Holy Thursday, we hear the altar bells ringing! We are celebrating the Mass for the last time until the Easter Vigil, and the Church is in mourning so the bells will remain silent until we sing the “Gloria” again. Washing of the Feet As Jesus did at the Last Supper (John 14:1-17), the Church is called to wash the feet of the members of the Body of Christ during the celebration of the Institution of the Eucharist. This symbol of humility is a wonderful connection with the service of Christ. Ubi Caritas It is rare that the Church prescribes a specific hymn to be sung other than those prescribed for the Proper of the Mass, yet on Holy Thursday the Roman Missal says that we should sing the ancient song “Ubi Caritas” during the Offertory. A very simple song, the lyrics are very meaningful, especially for the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. Translated, they mean "Where charity is, God is there." Eucharistic Procession and Reposition The Church’s tabernacle, while normally filled with the Blessed Sacrament and reserved hosts, is emptied and brought to the Altar of Repose where the faithful are invited to join in Adoration. This procession is meant to be of great importance for the community and reminds us of the walk that Christ is about to take the following day on the Via Dolorosa, but instead of being nailed to a cross, we place our King in a place of honor. Good Friday Fonts After the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday, churches are supposed to empty their Holy Water fonts “in preparation of the blessing of the water at the Easter Vigil, and it corresponds to those days on which the Eucharist is not celebrated (i.e., Good Friday and Holy Saturday).” (EWTN) Prostration On Good Friday, the Church is mourning the death of Christ and is full of sorrow. In response to this sorrow, the priest (and deacon, if present) prostates himself in front of a stark, barren altar. There is no music and none of the regular pomp and circumstance that comes with the beginning of a liturgical celebration. No sacraments are to be celebrated but that of penance and the anointing of the sick. The earth has gone quiet. No Invitation Normally, when a priest begins Mass, he invites us all to pray along with him, saying, “Let us pray.” During the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion (Good Friday), no such invitation is made. The priest just begins his invocation. Solemn Intercessions You may find that the prayers of the faithful may take longer than normal. Your church may sing them or have them chanted, with some kneeling and standing interspersed. Adoration of the Holy Cross There are many ways in which the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion is different from other liturgical celebrations, and the adoration of the Cross is certainly one of them. We are invited to come forward and spend time in veneration and adoration of the Cross on this most solemn of days – the day on which Christ perished while hanging from the very cross which we venerate. You may notice people genuflecting to the cross – this is something reserved specifically for Good Friday, out of veneration and sorrow for the blood which was shed and soaked up by the wood of the cross. Communion The Celebration of the Lord’s Supper is not a Mass. It is the one day out of the year in which no Mass is celebrated anywhere on Earth. Therefore, when we come to the celebration, there is no Eucharistic Prayer or any prayer related until, after the Adoration of the Holy Cross, the priest or deacon brings out the Blessed Sacrament and begins praying the Agnus Dei as it is normally done at Mass, which follows with himself and others receiving the Blessed Sacrament. Holy Saturday and the Easter Vigil Decoration When one walks into the church for the Easter Vigil, they will notice a big change from the celebrations of Lent and Holy Week – the church should be decorated with lilies, white and gold, and a joyful décor! While the lights should be turned down as well, we are anticipating the Resurrection and the excitement is palpable! The Light of Christ From the fire used to light the Easter Candle, the inscriptions on the Easter Candle, and the procession into the Church, light is integral to the Easter Vigil due to its representation of the "light of Christ, rising in glory," scattering the "darkness of our hearts and minds." We process into the Church with the Easter Candle, “just as the children of Israel were guided at night by the pillar of fire, so Christians follow the risen Christ” as we proclaim The Light of Christ while singing praises of thanksgiving! (USCCB) Readings Instead of the standard 3 readings at a Sunday Mass, at the Easter Vigil we generally hear anywhere between 5 and 9 readings. As we prepare to celebrate some of the holiest days in our Church, I invite you to observe the different rituals, customs, and symbols present during the Triduum. May you have a blessed and joyous Easter season! Question for Reflection: What changes do you notice from the Lent to Easter season? For more resources to guide you throughout the Triduum into the Easter season, please click here.
 The last full week of Lent, before Holy Week begins, has always been a bit of a struggle for me. Usually by this time, I’ve already slipped up on my voluntary Lenten penances once or several times, I’m ready for the Triduum to just be here already, and I’m completely over the color purple. My husband and I jokingly call this spiritual sluggishness or restlessness “the end-of-Lent slog.” It seems like these particular days before Holy Week ramps up are when we are tempted the most to go back to the things we’re fasting from or to just throw in the towel on Lent because we’re “basically done.” My husband and I pray Evening Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours together, and one of the readings that has resonated with me this Lent comes from St. Paul. In his first letter to the Corinthians, he encourages his readers to imitate well-trained athletes and to “run so as to win.” He continues: “Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one.” When I was a teenager, I viewed Lent as a sprint: choose some really intense or difficult penances, struggle to maintain an unrealistically high level of spiritual rigor, and then after Easter gleefully go right back to doing and eating all the things I had given up while tossing out all the spiritual growth I’d supposedly just undergone. As I matured in my faith, I came to understand that Lent is not meant to be a temporary, intense lifestyle challenge; rather, it is the start of a marathon. It’s a specific time to motivate ourselves to grow deeper in our relationship with God by letting go of the things that keep us from Him and by doing more difficult penances for our sins and vices—preferably by abstaining from them and thus breaking our addictions to or reliance on them. Like St. Paul says, we ought to treat our spiritual lives the way that athletes treat their sport: they dedicate themselves to it, setting higher and higher goals, training their bodies, denying themselves in order to maintain peak physical performance. And all of this to win a crown of leaves! How much more important, then, are the things we take on during Lent? We are training and preparing our souls for an eternity in Heaven with God, not for gold medals or accolades here on earth. Do we approach Lent as something that we need to win right now, this year? Or as something that trains us and jumpstarts us for the rest of the year—and the rest of our lives? Do we find ourselves fasting from the same things every year because we couldn’t maintain virtuous habits once the Easter bells started to ring? Or have our old Lenten penances and prayers become so incorporated into our daily lives that we can build upon them with each new Lenten season? Once I realized these things about Lent, all those times I “failed” in my Lenten practices didn’t seem so terrible anymore. I no longer want to “quit” Lent when I accidentally slip up on my penances or when I find myself giving in to temptation. If Lent is meant to jumpstart us on spiritual practices that we continue for months and years afterward, then we have to acknowledge and move past the stumbles and crashes when they come. Our failures to live up to our promises to God are still regrettable, certainly, but when we are in it for the long haul, our stumbles are also much more forgettable. St. Paul shows us that in “forgetting what lies behind but straining forward to what lies ahead” we must continue in our “pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus.” We must acknowledge and repent of our broken pasts and our sinfulness, but we also must look with hope toward the future that Christ has made possible for us. If we allow ourselves to dwell too much on our failures, our concupiscence, our weakness as mortal men, then we can lose sight of the ultimate goal for which we strive: to be with Christ in Heaven. As Lent moves into Holy Week and Eastertide, let us strive to be like Paul’s well-disciplined athletes, winning the marathon of life by training our souls for the eternal prize of Jesus Christ. For more resources to accompany you throughout the Lenten season, please click here. Question for Reflection: How can you build on your Lenten practices throughout the liturgical year?
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