Home again, home again, jiggity jog...

Wow, what a week!  So much for a nice, quiet, summer!  It's been a fun one, though.  Last week, I had the privilege of chaperoning for the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest Girl's Youth Camp in Wisconsin.  It was wonderful - and exhausting.
I went into this experience entirely unsure of what to expect.  Also, I might add, everything my siblings told me to expect was wrong.  I was told (by my siblings) that chaperones got to sleep in the house.  Not true.  I was also told that the mothers and legal-age chaperones got wine after hours.  Also not true.  Actually, the disappointment of the truth in these matters was greatly lessoned by the fact that the chaperones were allowed to use the indoor bathrooms, unlike the poor campers who had to use porta-pottys.  Ah, the simple things in life!
As I said, it was a wonderful week.  Things were a little different this year, or so I understand.  The group of 90 girls was divided into 8 teams, and each team had its own chaperone.  I got the green team, which was pretty much an awesome group of girls.  My biggest regret is that I wasn't able to get to know them all better, as we were very busy with things like olympics and silly olympics and talks, and drying out our tents.
Yes, we got rained on Monday night and Tuesday morning.  Actually, it was more like poured on.  I don't think there was a single dry tent in the place.  I was lucky - only my blankets got wet.  Many girls had there bags soaked, as well as sleeping bags and pillows.  I didn't hear any complaints, though - other than those tempered with laughter.  A couple of wonderful volunteers spend the day Tuesday drying everyone's things out, enabling dry beds by Tuesday night.
Activities of the week included Olympics, with competitions like a soccer relay and tug of war (green won the tug of war!) Silly Olympics, with a sack race,  horseback riding, and a cooking contest.  I did get to help with the cooking contest, and had a blast.  Iron Chef, here I come!  My team, as I said before, was awesome.  We didn't win the cooking contest, but everyone made a good effort.  Next time we'll get it!
The best part of the week was the talks.  Everyday we had Mass in the morning, with a homily, and there was a formation talk after breakfast.  We were constantly reminded of the dignity and importance of women, and how much we can teach the world.  We are all called to be mothers, sometimes spiritually, sometimes physically.
One of the talks was on Our Lady of Guadeloupe.  There is so much symbolism in the image that I never knew about!  For example, did you know that the color of her veil was a color reserved for the Emperor, under pain of death?  Or that the angel below her was one of the Aztec gods?  I would go over all of it, but I think it may be better kept for another blog post :)
One of the greatest gifts of the week, I hope received by all, was the gift of good, true, friendships.  I made new friends, got to see some "old" friends (who I met last month at the Sursum Corda camp,) and was blessed to be able to reconnect with a very old friend, whom I had not seen in about six years.  I made some young friends, and some older friends, and the best part is knowing that these are people who will pray for me, (and who I will pray for,) and who I will hopefully meet again - if not here, than in heaven.
This is a prayer that one of my fellow chaperones shared:

Morning Prayer

Grant, O Lord, that none may love Thee less this day because of me;

That never one word or act of mine may turn one soul from Thee;

And ever daring yet one more grace would I implore: 

That many souls this day, because of me, may love Thee more. Amen

Vigil

It was dark when he awoke.  This is not where I went to sleep.  I don’t think,  the little boy thought, looking around.  He was laying on something hard, and there was a coat under his head, and another over his legs.  A spicy smell filled his nose.  He knew what it was, but he didn’t know why.  Where was he? Strange singing filled his ears.  People were standing over him, but they weren’t looking at him.  They were looking at something he couldn’t see.  He sat up, and looked to see what they were seeing.  Through the darkness, there was a light.  It was a cauldron, with flames leaping towards the ceiling, casting strange shadows on the wall.  Standing over the cauldron was a big man in strange clothes.  He was waving something over flames, chanting.  Other, smaller figures surrounded him.  Huh, the little boy thought.  He watched for a moment, leaning against the wood back of the bed he had somehow found himself in.  He blinked a few times, yawned, and lay back down on his makeshift pillow.  Must be dreaming, he said to himself, falling back asleep. He rolled over, not noticing a quick movement beside him, keeping him from slipping off the pew.

                The young mother looks down at her three-year-old.  How would this first Easter Vigil be remembered?  She smiles, wondering what thoughts were drifting through his little mind, and wondering what dreams the strangeness of those few minutes would bring.  Standing to hold the boy on the pew, she turns her mind back to the priest, and the beautiful, ancient ceremonies she was blessed to witness.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

   This is one of the stories from my creative writing class.  The assignment was to write a story that could be read in three minutes or less.  The inspiration for this short tale is, of course, the Easter Vigil.  I remember one year, probably four or five years ago, when we attended the Easter Vigil in the Extraordinary form and, for once,  I was not singing.  My little brother was only three or four, and this is pretty much what happened.  It's funny when you think of how the ceremony could be remembered, or misunderstood.  

   This year was the first in three or four years that I was able to attend the vigil AND I wasn't in the choir.  It was great!  I could see what was going on, and follow along without having to worry about the next song or response.  It also helped that my missal had both the Latin and the English for all of the readings, but I digress.   

   I love each of the services of the Triduum, and I love the way each builds on the last.  Holy Thursday begins everything now, as it did then.  It is a service both joyous and serious.  In the beginning, we have the bells and the organ and the Gloria.  In the end, the alters are stripped and Christ is in the garden, preparing for the sacrifice of the next day.  Did you know that the Mass on Holy Thursday does not officially end?  There is no dismissal.  Good Friday, there is no Consecration, as it is the continuation of Mass on Holy Thursday, just as Christ's offering of His Body and Blood in the form of the bread and wine of the Passover on Holy Thursday was the same as His sacrifice on the cross on Good Friday. 

  The service on Good Friday is not technically a Mass, as there is no consecration.  That said, I've always loved the solemness of the Mass of the Presanctified, as it is called (for the record, the "presanctified" refers to the reserved Hosts, not to the state of the people's souls.) The Tabernacle is empty, and the whole church feels empty.  It is a reminder to us of the emptiness of the world after Christ's death.  The organ and bells are silent, the alter is still stripped, and the choir is somber.  Even the candles and holy water are gone.  

  Holy Saturday, there is no Mass until the vigil.  The church stands empty.  Then, after sundown, is the vigil.  It begins with the blessing of the Easter fire.  I love the way the light spreads through the church as the candles are lit from person to person, the flame growing and spreading without diminishing, like our faith.  I admit, it makes me nervous watching the little kids with candles!  Especially remembering how I nearly set myself on fire a few years ago!  But that's another story....

  After the blessing of the fire, there is the blessing of the holy water. Here again, we see the rich significance of everything, from creation to now, and how it ties together.  The prayers talk about how in the time of Noah, the water purified the earth, and it talks about the water from Christ's side purifying our souls.  There are so many things we take for granted, yet they have so much meaning! 

  Gradually, what was missing for the days and weeks leading up to Easter is brought back again.  I realized this year how usually when we go to Mass, Christ is sacramentally there when we get to Church- in the Tabernacle.  But at Easter, the Tabernacle is empty, even through all of the prayers and blessings.  It is not until the consecration of the Mass that He is there again, fully present with us...as in the Resurrection.     

Happy Easter! 

Favorite Easter Books

Hi All!
It's hard to believe Lent is almost over!  With less than two and a half weeks left, I've started thinking of some of my favorite stories for Passiontide and Easter.  
Benjamin's Box is a sweet story about a young boy witnessing the events leading up to the Resurrection.  We follow Benjamin as he sees Jesus come into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, as he helps prepare the upper room for the Passover, as he sees Christ carry his cross, and finally as he sees the stone that was rolled from the tomb, as well as many steps along the way.  As the story progresses, he collects things from each event and puts him in the box his grandfather gave him.  This is a great story to read to children during Holy Week, because they see the events from the perspective of a child like themselves.  You can buy the Resurrection Eggs to go with this book and there are Easter eggs with each of the items Benjamin collected.  Or, you can turn it into a scavenger hunt and create your own treasure box with items collected around the house.
The one issue I have with this book is that during the Last Supper, it says Jesus said that the bread was LIKE His Body, and the wine LIKE His Blood.  This is easily fixed with a sharpie, though.

The Country Bunny, I admit, does not say anything about the true meaning of Easter.  It is about the Easter Bunny, or rather many Easter Bunnies.  Still, it is one of my favorite stories from my childhood.  It is also an excellent reminder that you can't judge a book by it's cover.  The cover of this sweet tale suggests that it is a "modern feminist tale."  I disagree.  I think it is a very traditional look at motherhood.  The country bunny always dreamed of being one of the official Easter Bunnies, running around the world delivering baskets of eggs to children.  However, she found herself mother of no less than twenty-one children.  When they were very young, she undoubtably spent much time running after them, but as they got older, she trained her children well, until they were able to keep house as well as she could.  So now she has time to go be an Easter bunny once a year.  What's more, her children have kept her young and strong trying to keep up with the all, so she is able to compete with the much bigger bunnies for the job of Easter bunny.  I thing this story highlights the importance of diligence, kindness, perseverance, industry, and knowing that there is a time for everything. And the illustrations are adorable!

Before you say that Easter has nothing to do with Easter Bunnies, I present my defense.  The First Easter Bunny was written by a Catholic Priest, and tells the story of a little bunny who was the first to witness the Resurrection.  I admit, I don't know for sure if I have read this book, but I do recall the story, and I think that by explaining the Easter Bunny to children this way, they are able to make the connection between the colored eggs, the baskets of candy, and the bunny and the Easter Story.  For those who find the Easter bunny a fondly remembered part of childhood, or who have family who insist on sharing the story with your children, this is a great story.

Another story that I remember from my childhood is The Proud Tree. It's the story
 of the tree that became the cross.  Poor Rex, the proudest tree in the forest, is thrilled when two soldiers come to find a cross for a king.  He pictures himself moved to a palace garden, but is cruelly disappointed when he is chopped down instead.  I'm sure you can guess the rest of the story.  Another, similar story is The Tale of the Three Trees.





Finally, a book for adults.  The Spear, by Louis De Wohl, tells the story of the centurian who pierced Christ's side.  This book does an excellent job of weaving together the Easter story, the characters witnessing it, and, perhaps most of all, the historical background, all while building a believable character and a great plot.  I must warn you that there is an act of adultery between the main character and a young woman, but it is essential to the plot.  This book, like all of De Whol's stories, is hard to put down and really brings the events to life.