What Lent and Holy Week Meant to me as a Kid

Parce Domine! Parce Populo Tuo! Ne in aeternum irascaris nobis! This was the Latin antiphon we would sing at St. William’s Church in Euclid during Holy Week when I was growing up in the 1950s and 1960s. The tune was ancient Gregorian chant; the antiphon was sung over and over, a response to a psalm reading. The effect was powerful and hypnotic—and unforgettable.

Somehow Christmas, especially the invention of a fantasy, commercialized Christmas, is bigger in the popular imagination; but for me as a child and adolescent, Lent, with the passion and suffering of Jesus and our own little personal sacrifices, was much more significant. It seems that it’s harder to commercialize sacrifice, suffering, agonizing death, and even Easter—the Resurrection.

The truth is that even as a kid I understood the suffering part, but couldn’t exactly imagine the victory of the Resurrection. That I could only grasp intellectually, not “in the deep heart’s core” (to use Yeats’ great phrase from “The Lake Isle of Innisfree”).

During Lent we would always try to give up something—and for most people, including me for many years, it was candy. But one year I promised to make the Stations of the Cross (i.e., say a prayer and meditate at each of the 14 stations of the cross) every day. It went well for about two weeks and then I missed a day. In my scrupulous mind, this was a great mistake, and I promised Jesus that I would say ten Stations of the Cross for every one I missed. And then I missed again, and multiplied my promise to Jesus—and now I was in debt for 100 Stations for every one missed. Pretty soon, my debt began to multiply geometrically, and I finally gave up—owing the Lord thousands, maybe tens of thousands of Stations. I tell you I am hopelessly in debt to the Lord, and there’s no paying it back! It was a lesson in my own fallibility, my own flawed will—and maybe, the mercy of God. It took a long time to grow out of my over-religiosity, my scrupulousness.

For some reason, my inner spirit is still deeply religious, but no longer in an orthodox or conventional way. Lent, and Holy Week, still speaks to my soul, my Spirit. With the aching earth and its Creation, I can still sing that ancient Latin antiphon, “Parce, Domine!” Save, O Lord! Parce Populo Tuo! Save your people! Ne in aeternum, irascaris nobis. Don’t be angry at us forever.

Petitions/Prayer of the Faithful for February 22, 2015--First Sunday of Lent

For this coming Sunday, February 22, 2015, I have tried to keep in mind the terrible beheadings of the Coptic Christians in Libya, Jesus' own response to violence, the endless cycle of revenge, and Gandhi's comment on how "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth leaves the world blind and toothless." Jesus and Gandhi were on the same page there! And as usual, I tried to remember the homeless, hungry, and ill-clothed during this bitter-cold winter weather. Also, I reflected on Ash Wednesday and Lent and the assigned readings for Sunday, where we hear about the "rainbow sign," God's covenant with Noah and all people.

Prayer of the Faithful for Sunday February 22, 2015. First Sunday of Lent.

Celebrant: As we celebrate the Eucharist in this season of preparation, let us, dear sisters and brothers, approach the one God to voice all our needs.

  

• That we might rejoice in the “rainbow sign,” the covenant God gave to Noah. We pray to the Lord.

• That the ashes of Ash Wednesday remind us of the shortness of life and the urgency to give our all to build the Kingdom of God. We pray to the Lord.

• That we might use the 40 days of Lent to repent for our sins and selfishness and prepare for the coming of the Lord’s peaceful and just Kingdom.  We pray to the Lord.

• For the protection of Christians in the Middle East.  We pray to the Lord.

• That the cycle of revenge be ended in the world’s war zones. We pray to the Lord.

• That the idea of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, which leaves the world blind and toothless, be replaced with Jesus’ response to violence. We pray to the Lord.

• For our neighbors who are homeless, hungry, or ill-clothed, help us to respond to their needs during this bitter-cold winter. We pray to the Lord.

• and for those for whom this mass is offered [name them]. We pray to the Lord.

Let us pause now and silently offer to the Father our own particular intentions [...allow for silence...]. We pray to the Lord.

Celebrant: Father, during this season of Lent, we have hope that you will be moved to hear and respond to our sincere prayers, for they are asked in the name of your generous Son, and in the power of your Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.