A Holy Week Meditation

I was raised Roman Catholic and grew up in Orchard Park, New York near the city of Buffalo. I remember many details of Holy Week during my childhood. Two are somewhat amusing! A tradition my grandmother had was to serve Easter dinner rolls with butter that was sculpted by a local baker into the shape of a small lamb. My brothers and I competed vigorously each year for the head of the lamb that we spread on our dinner roll. I also recall one Easter that we received a late and heavy (even by Buffalo standards!) snow storm on Easter Saturday. This put to rest any hope of Easter bonnets for my sisters. They had to travel to church in snow jackets and wool hats!

To be honest, I also carry a heavy burden from one of those early childhood Holy Weeks. One Easter Saturday, my grandfather, Stephen, died suddenly in the night at the early age of 65. At the time, he was quite possibly my entire world. I grew up surrounded by him and spent many impressionable and wonderful hours and days together with him. I still remember vividly my father breaking the news to my five brothers and sisters on Easter morning. I recall him saying how important it was to stay strong for my mom who loved him dearly. I don’t remember much after that, but the smell of lilies bring me back to that time.

Fast forward to Palm Sunday, 2015, the beginning of Holy Week. My journey has brought me to an incredible place called Christ Church Cathedral in Lexington, Kentucky. How blessed I am to be here and serving God and His Church in this remarkable community of faith!

This past Sunday afternoon, the Choir of Men and Boys sang Fauré’s masterpiece Requiem. There is a place in the music where the choir boys enter the musical texture on the word Lux which translates to the word Light in English. I believe it is the centerpiece of the composition. It urges listeners and singers alike to remember that life is transitory. We are called to remember that someday, we will enter the kingdom of heaven surrounded by the saints in light. This is what Christ gave us by His death on Calvary. This is what Christ gave us that first Easter Sunday by His resurrection from the dead.

I am blessed each day to wake and work surrounded by family, friends, choristers, and wonderful Cathedral colleagues. I realize that someday, hopefully a long time from now, God will call me home. As my grandfather experienced on what was my most difficult Easter, I too will see again all those whom I’ve cherished in my life. All those who have gone home to God. I hope the first face I see is my grandfather’s; we will have a lot of catching up to do.

Thanks be to God for the greatest gift ever given - His Son.