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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