Skip to main content

The wood which carried the light



 At the epiclesis on Tuesday, the 3 knocks of wood against wood sounded. It was all I could think about during most of Good Friday's liturgy. The wood on which hung the salvation of the world. After the last supper, Christ dies...on wood. Walking in the sanctuary, it is eerie full of void. It is dark and depressing seeing the door of the tabernacle held open with no life inside. That's what I narrated in front of...an empty tabernacle.
    Knowing Christ is risen is something that gives us hope during this most holy day. Knowing that the mystery of faith: Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again is ever hopeful while we stare at the shrouded crucifix and bare altar. Humans need hope in darkness. We need light in despair. We get none of that this day. We must wait. We must wait as Christ waited in the grave.
    But, then comes Holy Saturday. The day on which "Christ our Light" enters into our world and brings us the hope and light we so desperately desire. The hope and light we can't live without comes to us in resurrection form represented as the baptismal candle which is carried--lighting up the darkness. We are flooded. We are flooded with rememberance of God's holy work in our lives, and we listen to the tradition of out faith. Until...we get to his empty tomb.
    Do you know why I love this week so much? Because, when I go through the year and I attend Mass on a regular basis...sometimes I don't feel the presence of God. Sometimes, I don't "get" it. But, at some point during this week, I always get it. If only for a glimpse. My brother told me that glimpse is worth the dryness. That glimpse is worth the desert of lent. That glimpse is sustainable.
   
    This year...was my first as RCIA director. How long the process seemed, and how much desert I seemed to walk through. But, it was an honor to experience it from this angle. Next year, I see a more glorious journey. Those who were walking beside me through the journey: I thank you. Those of you were dragging me through the journey: I thank you. Those of you who were watching me through the journey: I thank you. Those of you praying me through the journey: I thank you. It has been an honor. And, I am blessed beyond measure.

Be blessed as I have been blessed. Happy Easter!
-Aly

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tiger must stay in your backpack...

   I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go.    And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought.  This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality.  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

60 years ago is not the 1940s

  When you are born, you are lucky to get one day a year to celebrate just you. Well, you and all the others born on that day. When you become a mother or father, you get another day for just you. Sometimes those days come when you are not ready, and some come when you wish they wouldn't.   Today, 60 years ago, my mother was born. A date that means littler to most people I know than to her or me. As we age, and my mother is no different, our birthdays become just another cycle of the rising of the sun and a following of the moon. Nothing to make a big to do of.   My mother enjoys subtly. She can be dramatic but embraces the subtle acknowledgement of herself. She has ALWAYS placed herself second and counted the accolades of her children as if they were her own. That was one thing my mother NEVER lacked: humility. Which made me often sad she didn't get more than 2 days a year commemorating her.   Mom, I know I've come short. I know that I have openly and often faile...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sacred Requiem

  He handed me the hymnal and asked me if I was ready...if I could do this. To be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. I had never planned a funeral, and even if I had imagined planning one it sure wasn't this early in life and it sure wasn't for my only brother, my only sibling. At 25, I felt like a little child getting left behind in a sea of strangers. I was terrified.   2 days prior, my heart stopped beating. 2 short days before this, my peaceful world collided with the dark. And now I had to prepare for the world to say goodbye to greatness. The tree fell in the woods and the world shook with its sudden end. And we, as the collective, needed to imagine that very tree as the beautiful piece of woodwork it now was and bow to it's new exulted shape.   I wasn't sure how to plan a requiem. But, it had been placed in my hands and I wanted to give him the best I could. He deserved it. He deserved life...to live...to breathe still and chase every dream he thought into...
Post a Comment
Read more