Monday of Easter Week

Wow, what a liturgical schedule the monks keep for Holy Week. It's not too much, just very nearly. You might think of a written review as being more appropriate for opera, concert, play, book, or even a poetry reading, but never for a church service. When I say a review you shouldn't think of a critique of performances by this cantor, or that celebrant, that's not the idea. A review of a liturgical experience should be entirely on a spiritual level. For instance, during communion at the Easter Vigil, Fr. Chrysogonus led the Cantori in the Chant, Resurrexit

I arose and am still with thee, alleluia: Thou hast laid Thy hand upon me, alleluia; Thy knowledge is become wonderful, alleluia, alleluia.

I was seated in the plastic seats, in what I affectionately refer to as the 'second church,' and because I almost always sit in the monks choir stalls, which I call the third church, I could see the singers. The moment the chant started the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and a woman seated behind me began to sing along very softly, and I joined her. It was a holy moment, a moment of deep spiritual connection. In a few seconds I was connected to the ancient church which first sang those words, the great antiquity of the melody, the age that has passed between them and us. Beyond even that was a greater connection, more immediate: between the lady behind me, Fr. Chrysogonus and the Cantori, and those others present who knew that chant by heart, knew it's deep meaning.

That is what I mean by a review of liturgy. We must review the liturgy by where it has led us in our own hearts. It is my belief that people do not talk about this enough, if at all. Yes, it matters if we sing in tune, but also it matters if we believe what we sing, in or out of tune. By believing, we posses.

Maundy Thursday. Although I did not go, the Vigils of the Triduum, the ones at 3:15 in the morning, were special. They had a modern candle stand with seven candles in it. The psalms were all said by an individual monk standing at the candle stand. Apparently the seven candles provided the only light in the church. I am sorry I missed it, I won't next year.

The mass was at 4:30 in the afternoon, and was complete with foot washing. Sets of monks went about the community and washed every monastic foot. Not one monk went unwashed. I found that an amazing moment. In other situations only a few people have their feet washed, but not at the monastery. No, if you are a monk, you will submit to having your feet washed, even if you worry you have ugly feet!

At the end the Abbot was vested in a Cope, and he took the Sacrament in procession, with incense and candle bearers, to the guest chapel, where it was placed on the altar, and adored by all kneeling and singing. And there was a great deal of incense. A very intense worship experience.

Good Friday. Prominent on Good Friday was the sound of the Ratchet. Percussionists know the Ratchet as a musical instrument. After the Gloria is sung on Holy Thursday, neither the organ, nor the bells sound again until the Vigil of Easter. In place of the bells is the Ratchet! I have no idea what the monks call it, it is a Ratchet. Let me assure you that the sound is one I've heard countless times in my musical life, but never before has the sound of the ratchet moved me more!

There was an Adoration of the Cross. I liked that very, very much. It is a very Eastern Orthodox thing to do, to line up to kiss a plain wooden cross held by the Abbot. It was also unspeakably moving. The closer it came to my turn, the more I wanted to kiss where Jesus left hand was nailed, but everyone was kissing the foot, so I did too. By the time the liturgy was over I was emotionally worn out.

Then the Vigil. First of all, it was cold, and they light the New Fire outside on the other side of the parking lot. I stayed on the porch and watched. Two cowled monks stood out there too for a while. The sky was cloudless, the stars were shining, eventually the fire was lit, and it was a light in the darkness. By the time we were all in our seats and the Exsultet was begun, the special atmosphere "became" that is only apparent during the Great Vigil of Easter.