worship at the cathedral 2
The
first noticeable sign that lent is here, aside from the ashes on our foreheads,
is the conspicuous absence of the "alleluia" in the mass and in the
breviary (that is, if you are praying the breviary). Alleluia is a Hebrew word which means
"praise the Lord." Aside from
the trisagion or the sanctus of the mass (holy, holy, holy, Lord, God of
host...), the alleluia, the bible says, is the song sung by the choir of angels
praising God before His holy throne in the kingdom of heaven. Singing this song is eschatological, that is,
we are already looking forward to the day when we shall join our voices with
the angels in heaven. (That is why I always
advise people in the mass that if they plan to go to heaven, they better sing
these songs while they are still here on earth, so that when they reach heaven
the songs are already familiar. And by
the way, those who do not sing have no plans going there!)
So
why suppress the alleluia?
Aside
from tradition, we have been taught that the "alleluia" is the
resurrection hymn (that is why we sing it standing up because standing up is
the position of the resurrection). And
so we suppress it for forty days, the duration of lent, in order to sing it
anew and with renewed vigor on Easter Sunday when we commemorate Christ's
resurrection from the dead.
But
there is another meaning to its absence.
For
the forty days of lent we are made aware by the liturgy of our present
reality. We are not yet in heaven. We are still on earth. Though we have set our eyes to our true home,
to the goal of our lives by singing the alleluia, in lent we are reminded that
we are still in exile, in what the "Salve Regina" describes aptly as
"the valley of tears."
St. Paul in his second letter to the
Corinthians refers to this "valley" as our "earthly dwelling, a
tent," an impermanent structure that would one day "be destroyed,"
so that we can come home to "a dwelling not made with hands,"
and is "eternal in heaven."
And so, at the moment, Paul continued, while
"in this tent we groan, longing to be further
clothed with our heavenly habitation." (cf 2 Cor. 5: 1-2)
This is what lent is also telling us, lest we
forget. The tragedy for many people
nowadays is to think (and to act!) as if this world is already home, and this
life is already the goal.
But we are still in exile. We
are constantly tempted, we fall from time to time, we commit mistakes, we
commit sin, we will be hurt, we can be moved to despair, we can be brought to
tears and grief and anger. For the time being life will continue to be unfair, people
will continue to be hard headed and stupid, people will still lie and cheat and
even kill. We too can become all of the above. Thus, we need to be frisked by
guards as we enter the mall. We need to skip those mouthwatering adobo and
dessert and struggle to do so. And they
will continue to add rooms and beds to those dreaded hospitals. Thus, we need
to go to confession from time to time.
We need to say sorry, we need to make amends and resolutions, and then
face our regrets for not fulfilling them and then beat our breasts while
uttering our mea culpas and then make the same resolutions and desire for
amendments over and over again for God knows how many times. It's ok!
This is lent! We can become our
best and yet we are in need of mercy. We
have to work as if everything depends on us and yet be aware too that we are in
need of a Savior and cannot do everything on our own. We need to rely on our human capacities and
gifts and yet we are conscious that we are need grace. This is the valley of tears, this is the tent
that would one day be destroyed, this is exile.
We are in lent!
So,
I suggest, to bring us back to our present reality and predicament, join the
via crucis in our parish, in all the Fridays of lent, after the 5:30 mass in
the afternoon. I am not in anyway
implying that life is all via crucis (of course not, I am going north this
summer!). But if it becomes one, and it
is bound to be from time to time, it is good to be reminded, that life can be
unjust in the courts of the Pilates of this world, the cross can be heavy and
painful, there will always be people who will taunt you and even cheer your
persecutors, but there will always be Simons of Cirene along the way, there
will be Veronicas to wipe your bloody face, there will be women (of Jerusalem)
who will comfort you with their tears, and also Nicodemuses and Johns who will
risk themselves for you, and of course your ever faithful mother who will ever
stand by you. We will be surrounded by
good thieves and bad thieves. And like
Jesus we will continue to forgive, to pray and to surrender.
Should
I say welcome to Lent?!
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