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Divine Mercy

>Shhh.
Listen.
Be still.
I know…it’s that day.
It’s the day of the tomb.
Silent as a tomb….

Holy Saturday is a day of silence.

 painting Michael O’Brian

It is the tomb.
It is the day of grieving and being still, quiet for it…or mindful of it and trying to find that still silent spot inside; ever difficult in our modern days and my busy loud life.
This is the day when the tabernacles, across the world, are barren.
And the emptiness is visceral.
I feel it.
I think the world feels it.
I do.

Tonight is the vigil and the promise of the return of the light, Light itself.
But for today. 
It is the deposition, the tomb.

It is noisy in this silence, the noise of my children yes but the noise of my heart beating, looking for Him and thinking of her weeping this day.

It is a clanging silence….

So.  We wait.

>Waking up today….this was rolling through my head.

Not exactly the Basilica where Buddybug and Booboo are this morning…But still, apropos of the day I suppose.

Notre Dame Basilica, ah, bliss.

 I would just like to point out that, yes, I am quite well aware of how this opening video dates me and reaffirms just how old I am.  Additionally, I would like to point out that this is one of the unspoken curses of growing up in the 70’s (For the most part). This was formative stuff for me.  I know! It’s a wonder I came back to the church at all, no? But, thanks be to God, I did and now I get to live with some scars: a wedding anniversary during lent (doh) and this song/video rolling through my mind as an earworm every single year on Palm Sunday.

But still, apropos of the day I suppose.
Today is one of the longest Masses of the year, and it’s one of the hard ones. Sure it seems like it’s all the rejoicing like in the video above…but no we also have to read the long reading of when it all turns and Christ is taken to Pilate, and in the liturgy we respond, “Crucify him!” again and again.
I HATE that.
It makes me cringe.
It hurts and makes me wince.
I often want to stand silent, thinking, “No. I won’t. I can’t say that.”
But of course, I do, darn near every day in my selfish thoughtless words and snapping temper.
So, sure I could stand there and be silent today…..but oh, what a hypocrite.
And since I’m already that already too…..I will quietly, achingly whisper, “Crucify him” and try not to cry.

For more, ever so much better stuff on Palm Sunday, go here and here and, always, go here. anytime!

** Note: Palm Sunday Mass with toddlers means you don’t actually hear all the readings because you are juggling small boys who are playing swords with the palms that are given out. Long Mass, somber readings (Mark 14:1-15: 47), (Psalm 22), crowded pews, and toys, erk, palms…equals chaotic Mass!**

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Vanitas.
Today is all about this, it’s Ash Wednesday.
The saying, “Vanitas, all is vanitas, ” is the theme of the day on so many levels.
As the priest smudges the ashes (Last year’s blessed palms from Palm Sunday) on your forehead, he says “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.“
So, if that doesn’t get ya thinking about your mortality, I don’t know what will.
It’s a somber Mass.
A somber day, of fasting and penance.
It’s supposed to be.
Because today marks the start of lent, a penitential season, where we work to strip away the things that hinder us from walking closer to God.  We are given six weeks, forty days, to try and try again, to detach from things that hook us in and keep us looking at ourselves: our vanities.

It’s the ultimate vanity, that constant head swivel back to us (ok, sigh, me), our looks, our wants, our desires comforts distractions.  We/I all do it, all the time.  We are practically programed to do so, but the Church in her wisdom gives us an entire season to work on this.  No, not to try to lose those last ten pounds, or finally quit smoking, but rather to shed some of the thorny tangles that that keep us mired in the brier patch of ourselves.  Those stickery snags that keep us from walking forward a step or two into holiness or just a step or two closer to God and his perfect will for us.

It takes the whole season to even go a step or two I think, or at least, it does for me.  Because I botch it up, every year.  I’ve even learned to not set my sights too high, for the fall from afar is so discouraging that it’s then a temptation to just ditch it.  Just like those ever failed New Year’s resolutions.  (I don’t do those either, anymore). 
 **To that end, I’d like to point out that a mere TWO hours into this Lenten season I’d already stepped on a landmine and blown up: mom fail. 

But, I digress.  That was my Lenten PSA so that you all can feel more hopeful about your Lenten observances.  You’re welcome. **
But Lent is not a New Year’s resolution, except that it IS the lead up to the New Liturgical Year (starts with Easter Morning).  And it is a kind of pruning to help us spring forth into the new year in better shape, spiritually.

So, today we get to say it out loud.
Or, wear it out loud.
Wear it, all day long.
It’s a pain, really, these ashes.
As I mentioned, it’s a solemn day.  I’m hungry.  I’m terrible at fasting, I want to whine (and I tend to, no surprise to you I”m sure). 
The ashes, they itch and smudge further and further as the day goes on, often ending up sliding down my cheek a bit or onto the tip of my nose. 
All day, clerks at the store or the drive through of Starbucks will look at you twice and say, “Um, you’ve got a little something…” and wave their hands around their face and then towards yours. 
Here in the south, I get that more than other parts of the country, where the Catholic ratio is higher.  But even so, I nod and say, “I know.  Ash Wednesday.” And then,  usually they blink at me, look away, “Oh.”
It’s really really tempting to wipe them off.  Or to kind of wipe them off “by mistake” as you fix  your hair or scratch an itch.  Who wants to feel like a dork?
But it’s an act of will not to wipe, and that’s really the whole point.

Ash Wednesday is not only for Catholics, nor, of course, is lent.
It’s for any and all of us.
As hard as it is, it’s one of my favorite seasons.  Maybe that’s because I am a task oriented gal; but that is precisely what usually trips me up during this season.  
Very easy to fall into the trap of being too legalistic…which is, of course, pride.  Sigh.

I think I like it because my heart really does yearn to grow in holiness, yearns to love better and fuller and the only way I can do that, I know deep inside my soul, is to grow closer to Christ.  And Lent has me on the path – if only for a step or two.
So, I’m tiptoeing to Easter.

I’ve got my ashes on today and I’m yearning to snack…but I know that is my physical reminder of  my hunger for more in this world and in my stony heart.
 Ashes.
They itch.
They bug me.
But I’m wearing them.
No wiping.