A Passion Sunday Thought to Help Us Through These Final Days of Lent
The traditional calendar calls these last two weeks of Lent "Passiontide." It, therefore, distinguishes today as "Passion Sunday."
In churches that adhere to tradition, statues will now be covered in purple cloth. Having already eschewed flowers on the altar (with the possible exception of the solemn feasts like that of St. Joseph and The Annunciation), we find our sense deprived of familiar sights. Indeed, the use of the organ has already been curtailed in some fashion.
This sensual deprivation was once understood as a tonic to the lures of the world and the flesh. In our own age, one that finds so many of us addicted to social media and its sights and sounds, that tonic should be more than welcome. Even those of us who don't spend hours obsessing on liking or being liked on Facebook or subsequently developed platforms for splashing our minds and bodies on a public palette can find this quelling of sights and sounds beneficial. The fewer distractions, the better we can meditate on the awesome and terrible events that Holy Week will recall.
Our local parish church never covers its statues. Recently, though, the organist has curtailed the constant "filler" that much of modern church music has become. On the other hand, a church near my office downtown still covers its statues. Even though I'm only occasionally able to attend Mass there during the week, it's a blessing to be surrounded by this vestige of a wise tradition.
Of course, these days, we're bereft of Mass itself. But perhaps some of us stop by to pray in some of our churches that remain open. The loss of Holy Mass and Holy Communion blends in with the deprivations of these last two weeks of Lent in ways we could never have imagined before the invasion into our lives of COVID-19.
And yet, we carry on during this Holy Season despite this virus. No matter what practices our individual churches pursue, no matter that we cannot attend Mass, we can all embrace Passiontide and enter into its spirit. Even if we're not bolstered by the traditional sensory deprivations of covered statues, that shouldn't prevent us from imposing such deprivations on ourselves. One way might be to set aside ten minutes each day to simply meditate on the Passion of Our Lord. I've done this on select days during Lent. Increasing it to a daily practice now makes sense. (Let's see if I do it.)
It's really easy to pursue this pious practice. You just shut out any distractions for ten minutes and think or imagine what you likely already know about how Jesus Christ suffered and died for you. In the unlikely event that you've never learned the details of His Passion - the Agony in the Garden, the arrest and trial, the scourging, crowning with thorns, carrying of the cross, the crucifixion - this could be the time to do so.
Personally, I try to concentrate on one thing at a time. Early in Lent, I even used my imagination to wonder what our Lord thought or felt before the horror of the Passion all began. The Gospels recount how, on more than one occasion, Jesus told His disciples what as to become of Him. We're told they didn't understand His words at the time. We, on the other hand, do understand what He's talking about. So during my ten minutes, I, therefore, tried to imagine what Jesus Himself thought and felt. These weren't mere words. He knew exactly what was in store for Him. Imagine if you knew that you would be betrayed by a friend (Judas), unjustly arrested and tried. That during that trial, you, completely innocent of any charges, would be abused both emotionally and physically. And that was just the start of the horrors that awaited you.
Anyway, that's one simple example. It's not hard or complicated. None of this requires any special knowledge or expertise. You don't need to be thoroughly familiar with all of Scripture or trained in theology, or, for that matter, a saint to make these ten minutes one way to grow closer to Him Who suffered and died for you. If you take the trouble to carve out ten minutes for Our Lord - and for yourself - you'll find your way to His Passion.
What could be more appropriate during Passiontide?
In churches that adhere to tradition, statues will now be covered in purple cloth. Having already eschewed flowers on the altar (with the possible exception of the solemn feasts like that of St. Joseph and The Annunciation), we find our sense deprived of familiar sights. Indeed, the use of the organ has already been curtailed in some fashion.
This sensual deprivation was once understood as a tonic to the lures of the world and the flesh. In our own age, one that finds so many of us addicted to social media and its sights and sounds, that tonic should be more than welcome. Even those of us who don't spend hours obsessing on liking or being liked on Facebook or subsequently developed platforms for splashing our minds and bodies on a public palette can find this quelling of sights and sounds beneficial. The fewer distractions, the better we can meditate on the awesome and terrible events that Holy Week will recall.
Our local parish church never covers its statues. Recently, though, the organist has curtailed the constant "filler" that much of modern church music has become. On the other hand, a church near my office downtown still covers its statues. Even though I'm only occasionally able to attend Mass there during the week, it's a blessing to be surrounded by this vestige of a wise tradition.
Of course, these days, we're bereft of Mass itself. But perhaps some of us stop by to pray in some of our churches that remain open. The loss of Holy Mass and Holy Communion blends in with the deprivations of these last two weeks of Lent in ways we could never have imagined before the invasion into our lives of COVID-19.
And yet, we carry on during this Holy Season despite this virus. No matter what practices our individual churches pursue, no matter that we cannot attend Mass, we can all embrace Passiontide and enter into its spirit. Even if we're not bolstered by the traditional sensory deprivations of covered statues, that shouldn't prevent us from imposing such deprivations on ourselves. One way might be to set aside ten minutes each day to simply meditate on the Passion of Our Lord. I've done this on select days during Lent. Increasing it to a daily practice now makes sense. (Let's see if I do it.)
It's really easy to pursue this pious practice. You just shut out any distractions for ten minutes and think or imagine what you likely already know about how Jesus Christ suffered and died for you. In the unlikely event that you've never learned the details of His Passion - the Agony in the Garden, the arrest and trial, the scourging, crowning with thorns, carrying of the cross, the crucifixion - this could be the time to do so.
Personally, I try to concentrate on one thing at a time. Early in Lent, I even used my imagination to wonder what our Lord thought or felt before the horror of the Passion all began. The Gospels recount how, on more than one occasion, Jesus told His disciples what as to become of Him. We're told they didn't understand His words at the time. We, on the other hand, do understand what He's talking about. So during my ten minutes, I, therefore, tried to imagine what Jesus Himself thought and felt. These weren't mere words. He knew exactly what was in store for Him. Imagine if you knew that you would be betrayed by a friend (Judas), unjustly arrested and tried. That during that trial, you, completely innocent of any charges, would be abused both emotionally and physically. And that was just the start of the horrors that awaited you.
Anyway, that's one simple example. It's not hard or complicated. None of this requires any special knowledge or expertise. You don't need to be thoroughly familiar with all of Scripture or trained in theology, or, for that matter, a saint to make these ten minutes one way to grow closer to Him Who suffered and died for you. If you take the trouble to carve out ten minutes for Our Lord - and for yourself - you'll find your way to His Passion.
What could be more appropriate during Passiontide?
We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee,
Because by Thy Holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the world.
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