This blog is a way to celebrate half a century of a joyful journey. My hope is to inspire others to write their own stories and to see the value of one life to our world.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The Best Kept Secret
We are an Alleluia people. We are the people of the Lamb, indeed. We are also the followers of the Light that shines beyond the grave. ~ Joan Chittister
I sometimes think that the Catholic Church has one of the best-kept secrets from its people. Growing up, we may have worn our best outfits and our Easter bonnets, but the Vigil was not part of our tradition. The Easter Vigil is one of the richest liturgies that I attend. I first went about 25 years ago. My Catholic boyfriend at the time invited me. When he came to pick me up, he looked at my blue jeans and told me to go change. This was a party and a dress up event. What did I know then? It became one of the greatest gifts of our relationship. I cannot imagine Easter without the Vigil.
I have fond memories of Easter spent around the world. I remember Easter cantatas with my friend Janet in Iowa, flying kites with Kathy in Kenya, a three-hour vigil at an amazing church in Washington, and beautiful sunrise services here. I remember the odd Easter service in a little village church in Kitui, Kenya. The message was not so much about Christ’s rising but about the thief who would break in and steal your possessions. The preacher led the congregation on a wild journey as he pretended to break into a house and stealthily go from room to room. At one point he gave a shout out to the two white women at the back of the church. Kathy and I tried not to look at each other. We celebrated Christ’s rising later by flying kites.
St. Augustine in DC knew how to do a Vigil well. There were many baptisms, all by immersions. I can still see the face of one young woman who was wide-eyed. She came out of the waters of the font with such great joy. Then Boomer sang an amazing song that had the church up and dancing in a frenzied state. Christ had indeed risen. The mass went on for three solid hours but no one cared, as it was the most amazing experience that had finally arrived after the precious Holy Triduum journey. Afterwards, in the wee hours of the morning, the community gathered to share a feast. I cannot remember what exactly but I do remember a delicious Caesar salad and champagne. I think the main course was quiche.
From there it was home to sleep for two hours before arising to go to the sunrise service. It was my first Easter with crocuses. We were in a clearing in a wooded area in the neighbourhood of Columbia Heights. It was such a joy. Church was not yet done though as most of us made our way to the morning service at Sojourners. There I prayed for my dad who I had spoken to the night before and the words that came out of my mouth surprised me. I did not know that at nearly that exact moment he was having chest pains and would soon end up in ICU. Community members later told me how that prayer seemed so strong and urgent, the Spirit speaking the words that needed to be said.
From there I went hiking with my roommate Susanne, unreachable by my family who tried throughout the morning to reach me. It was late afternoon when we finally arrived back at the Perch, our home, and I returned my brother’s calls. That Easter scare had a happy ending. I flew home and Dad was released from hospital.
Last night at St. Ignatius, five people were baptized and three confirmed. One was a man in his seventies, I am sure. That was a delight to my heart to witness someone who at last came to know Christ and wished to be his official child. We sang the Alleluia, lit candles and broke bread, restoring the church to its fullness after the barrenness of the Triduum. Easter had arrived and the joy and hope that quietly whispered our names over these past three days broke through. We are an Alleluia people. We belong to the Good Shepherd, the people of the Lamb slain for us. Christ is Risen! Truly He is Risen! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Happy Easter, Everyone!
Peace,
Suzanne
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