For those of you not of the Orthodox persuasion, that is the greeting with which we say "hello" for the next 40 days. The response is, "Indeed He is risen!" It's always a hoot during the Pascha service when it gets said in many different languages, all, down here, with a serious Texan accent. When we say it in Greek (Christos anesti!) the Greek speakers in the congregation crack up. Arabic is worse. Once, when I was choir director, I asked one of the longsuffering Arab ladies in the congregation to teach us to say "Ya rub burham" (close as you can get in English script). Eventually she gave up, more because she was holding her sides helplessly laughing than anything else. I think we can safely say we mangled just about every foreign language we tried last Sunday (with the possible exception of Spanish, as anyone who's got a pulse can probably pull off a reasonable Spanish phrase here in Texas.)
This first week is particularly interesting; we don't do the normal morning and evening prayers that are contained in the prayer books. Rather, we are directed to the "Paschal Hours", which is a repeat of some of the prayers from that very, VERY long night's service.
The one thing we don't get to repeat, and won't hear again until next year, is St. John Chrysostom's famous Paschal sermon. In many churches, it is the only sermon for Pascha, although many priests can understandably not resist the opportunity to preach to people they see only that one time a year (yes, we too have our "C & E Christians:, lol).
For those of you who did not attend Pascha last weekend; and as a treat for those who did, the following is St. John's wonderful sermon for Pascha:
If anyone is devout and a lover of God, let him enjoy this beautiful and radiant festival. If anyone is a wise servant, let him, rejoicing, enter into the joy of his Lord. If anyone has wearied himself in fasting, let him now receive his recompense. If anyone has labored from the first hour, let him today receive his just reward. If anyone has com at the third hour, with thanksgiving let him keep the feast. If anyone has arrived at the sixth hour, let him have no misgivings,; for he shall suffer no loss. If anyone has delayed until the ninth hour, let him draw near without hesitation. If anyone has arrived even at the eleventh hour, let him not fear on account of his delay. For the Master is gracious and receives the last, even as the first; he gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour, just as to him who has labored from the first. He has mercy upon the last and cares for the first; to the one he gives, and to the other he is gracious. He both honors the work and praises the intention.
Enter, all of you, therefore, into the joy of the Lord, and whether first or last, receive your reward. O rich and poor, one with another, dance with joy! O you ascetics and you negligent, celebrate the day! You that have fasted and you that have disregarded the fast, rejoice today! The table is rich-laden; feast royally, all of you! The calf is fatted; let no one go forth hungry!
Let all partake of the feast of faith. Let all receive the riches of goodness. Let no one lament his poverty, for the universal kingdom has been revealed. Let no one mourn his transgressions, for pardon hath dawned from the grave. Let no one fear death, for the Savior's death has set us free.
He that was taken by death has annihilated it! He descended into hades and took hades captive! He embittered it when it tasted his flesh! And anticipating this Isaiah exclaimed, "Hades was embittered when it encountered thee in the lower regions." It was embittered, for it was abolished! It was embittered, for it was despoiled! It was embittered, for it was bound in chains!
It took a body, and face to face, met God! It took earth and encountered heaven! It took what it saw but crumbled before what it had not seen! "O death, where is thy sting? O hades, where is thy victory?"
Christ is risen, and you are overthrown! Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen! Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice! Christ is risen, and life reigns!
Christ is risen, and not one dead remains in a tomb!
For Christ, being raised from the dead, has become the First fruits of them that slept.
To him be glory and might unto ages of ages, Amen.
***************************************************************************
For this week in particular, the Church celebrates each day. There is no fasting allowed (Wendy's single hamburger with cheese, here I come tomorrow...!) There is no prostration during prayer allowed. The doors of the iconostasis, usually closed, are thrown open as symbolic of the stone of the tomb being thrown aside. This is not to say that all Orthodox Christians walk around with a plastic smile on their faces, regardless of the circumstances of their lives....what one of our old professors called "Dry Gums Christianity", since all you get from that behavior is dry gums. Rather, even if our own circumstances are sorrowful, the joy of this week stands in counterpoint, showing us that there is much more than these things that weigh us down....that the tomb is truly empty.
Christ is risen. Indeed He is risen.
Blessings,
Mary Brigid
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Voluntary Passion
What would you die for?
No fast answers, now. What would you die for, seriously? For your family, your spouse and kids? For your country? For your faith? How about for a total stranger? For an Army buddy? Not too long ago, a Navy SEAL fell onto a grenade to protect his comrades. They all lived. He is honored in our memories, a hero.
As many readers of this blog know, I am a target shooter (rifle and pistol), total amateur (this, by the way, is germane to the paragraph above. Stay with me.) In 2005, the weekend of Katrina, I took the concealed handgun license class given here in Texas, to receive a license to carry a concealed pistol or revolver. I did this to protect my own life, certainly; but I had to (and still do have to) think long and hard to answer the question "for whom else would you pull that gun to protect them?" I'm not a police officer, I have no legal *duty* to protect...but I know in my heart that there are circumstances one can imagine in which I would do so, regardless of the risk that I might die for that decision.
So....who would you die for? How about your enemy? Think about the person or persons who have done the most damage to you in your life. The person who has spat on everything you are, who has turned their back on you, perhaps betrayed you. I would like to say "Yes, I would. I would forgive. I would do the right thing."
I'd like to say that, but I try not to lie to my readers; so all I can say is "I'd hope that I would, but I don't know."
Why do I ask? Because tonight is (liturgically) the beginning of Thursday; Holy Thursday, about which I promised to write. It is, for me, the day that Lent is *really* over. Tonight, we heard seven readings from the epistles, seven gospel readings, seven prayers prayed by the priest for us, his flock. Tonight we knelt, prostrating ourselves, while he held the book of the gospels over us and prayed for our utter, complete, total, absolute healing. Physical healing. Emotional healing (the prayer book we use calls it "psychic healing", meaning, of course, the healing of the psyche, the mind). Spiritual healing and release from the things to which we are bound. Even, from a church perspective, legal healing...as we pray for any among us "under the ban of a priest" (that is to say, refused the Chalice, refused communion, due to grave sin.) And we receive it. Make no mistake, that prayer is heard, and it is answered. I will set aside for the moment the obvious questions that arise regarding physical healing, particularly the odd practices of some western sects in that regard. I'll come back to them another time if someone will remember to remind me.
Healing and forgiveness are two sides of the coin in Orthodox faith. We see sin not in the legal-system view of the west, but rather in the sense that we are broken, we're sick, we're messed up, we don't work right. So when we come to this unique service on chronological Wednesday night, looking ahead to this liturgical Holy Thursday, we ask for and receive forgiveness and we ask for and receive healing; and they are one in the same.
How can this be? How can we "have standing to sue" (to use a secular legal term), to ask God for such audacious requests? We can do this because of what is about to happen next in this week. He Who created all this we see around us, He Who would have been totally complete in Himself without ever creating *anything*, cannot...will not...leave it, leave us, broken, sick, messed up, not working right. He created in the first place because He loves; and it is the nature of Love to expand, to grow, to share, to give. Having created us, having loved us into being, He cannot and will not simply step aside and leave us to our ruin.
He comes to the rescue. He comes to make it right. He comes to His voluntary Passion. He comes to "bear our infirmities and heal our diseases". He comes to take upon Himself all that broken, sick, messed up, dysfunctional nature and make it right. He does it voluntarily; He accepts and enters into His Passion.
There is always a lot of mental gymnastics present among western theologians, and one of the things they like to discuss is the nature of this most dread night. To the west, we are not messed up and sick. Rather, we're criminals. Traitors. And the penalty for treason against the lawful King is death. To the west, Christ came to pay that penalty in place of us, and in so doing, saves us and enables us to enter into His Kingdom. Perhaps the most extreme, and well known, exposition of this view is the famous sermon by the Rev. Jonathan Edwards of the Puritans, entitled "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." If you're of a mind to have nightmares, don't read it too close to bed....
We see it differently. Christ came, and entered voluntarily into His Passion, in order to mount a rescue in the prison from which no rescue was possible without it. He had to die in order to go to Hades; and when he went, it was not as a bound prisoner. Not hardly. Take a look some time, a close look, at the icon called "The Harrowing of Hell". Christ stands, triumphant, centered in a mandorla of deep blue which symbolizes heaven. He stands on top of the crossed, broken-off, crushed gates of Hell. Beneath is the abyss; and in that abyss, we see broken locks, broken chain links, flotsam and jetsam of an instantaneous invasion that destroyed the prison gates once and for all. He stands, one hand pulling Adam from his grave; the other, pulling Eve, as in the background, the righteous of the Old Testament stand and marvel. John the Forerunner is there, still bearing witness "this is the One of whom I spoke".
We've been forgiven. We've been healed. And in going voluntarily to His Passion, Christ rescues us from death itself. Oh, this bag of bones I rattle around in will quit functioning at some point, sure. But death has no power to hold me separate from Him anymore. There's no gates to hold anybody in at all. Now, if someone ends up in Hell, it's because they've chosen it for themselves throughout their lives, not because it's the "default option" after our last breath.
Tomorrow (ack! past midnight already, so I'll have to say "later this morning") we will celebrate that Last Supper. We will re-enact the washing of the disciple's feet, we will share in the Holy Mysteries. Then later that night, we will remember the rest of it.
1) The betrayal.
2) The arrest.
3) The interrogations and beatings and mocking and spitting and scourging
4) The cowardice of Pilate; the hate of the crowds
5) The walk to Gesthemane
6) the hammering in of nails (think "railroad spikes" here, not something you'd put up a snapshot on the wall)
7) The agony of His Mother as She stands at the foot of the cross.
Tomorrow night, there is a song, which I will be privileged to sing partway through the twelve accounts of these events.
""Today is suspended upon the Tree,
He who suspended the land upon the waters
Today is suspended upon the Tree,
He who suspended the land upon the waters
Today is suspended upon the Tree,
He who suspended the land upon the waters
A crown of thorns crowns Him,
Who is the King of Angels.
He is wrapped about with the purple of mockery
Who wrapped the Heavens with clouds,
He received smitings,
He, Who freed Adam in the Jordan.
He is transfixed with nails,
Who is the Son of the Virgin
We worship Thy Passion, O Christ.
We worship Thy Passion, O Christ.
We worship Thy Passion, O Christ.
Show us also, Thy glorious Resurrection."
We are whom He died to rescue. We are whom He died to set right. Not because we deserve it. But simply because He loves us, and would never leave us without hope. His answer to "who would you die for?" is....you. Me. Us.
Have a blessed Holy Thursday.
---Mary Brigid
No fast answers, now. What would you die for, seriously? For your family, your spouse and kids? For your country? For your faith? How about for a total stranger? For an Army buddy? Not too long ago, a Navy SEAL fell onto a grenade to protect his comrades. They all lived. He is honored in our memories, a hero.
As many readers of this blog know, I am a target shooter (rifle and pistol), total amateur (this, by the way, is germane to the paragraph above. Stay with me.) In 2005, the weekend of Katrina, I took the concealed handgun license class given here in Texas, to receive a license to carry a concealed pistol or revolver. I did this to protect my own life, certainly; but I had to (and still do have to) think long and hard to answer the question "for whom else would you pull that gun to protect them?" I'm not a police officer, I have no legal *duty* to protect...but I know in my heart that there are circumstances one can imagine in which I would do so, regardless of the risk that I might die for that decision.
So....who would you die for? How about your enemy? Think about the person or persons who have done the most damage to you in your life. The person who has spat on everything you are, who has turned their back on you, perhaps betrayed you. I would like to say "Yes, I would. I would forgive. I would do the right thing."
I'd like to say that, but I try not to lie to my readers; so all I can say is "I'd hope that I would, but I don't know."
Why do I ask? Because tonight is (liturgically) the beginning of Thursday; Holy Thursday, about which I promised to write. It is, for me, the day that Lent is *really* over. Tonight, we heard seven readings from the epistles, seven gospel readings, seven prayers prayed by the priest for us, his flock. Tonight we knelt, prostrating ourselves, while he held the book of the gospels over us and prayed for our utter, complete, total, absolute healing. Physical healing. Emotional healing (the prayer book we use calls it "psychic healing", meaning, of course, the healing of the psyche, the mind). Spiritual healing and release from the things to which we are bound. Even, from a church perspective, legal healing...as we pray for any among us "under the ban of a priest" (that is to say, refused the Chalice, refused communion, due to grave sin.) And we receive it. Make no mistake, that prayer is heard, and it is answered. I will set aside for the moment the obvious questions that arise regarding physical healing, particularly the odd practices of some western sects in that regard. I'll come back to them another time if someone will remember to remind me.
Healing and forgiveness are two sides of the coin in Orthodox faith. We see sin not in the legal-system view of the west, but rather in the sense that we are broken, we're sick, we're messed up, we don't work right. So when we come to this unique service on chronological Wednesday night, looking ahead to this liturgical Holy Thursday, we ask for and receive forgiveness and we ask for and receive healing; and they are one in the same.
How can this be? How can we "have standing to sue" (to use a secular legal term), to ask God for such audacious requests? We can do this because of what is about to happen next in this week. He Who created all this we see around us, He Who would have been totally complete in Himself without ever creating *anything*, cannot...will not...leave it, leave us, broken, sick, messed up, not working right. He created in the first place because He loves; and it is the nature of Love to expand, to grow, to share, to give. Having created us, having loved us into being, He cannot and will not simply step aside and leave us to our ruin.
He comes to the rescue. He comes to make it right. He comes to His voluntary Passion. He comes to "bear our infirmities and heal our diseases". He comes to take upon Himself all that broken, sick, messed up, dysfunctional nature and make it right. He does it voluntarily; He accepts and enters into His Passion.
There is always a lot of mental gymnastics present among western theologians, and one of the things they like to discuss is the nature of this most dread night. To the west, we are not messed up and sick. Rather, we're criminals. Traitors. And the penalty for treason against the lawful King is death. To the west, Christ came to pay that penalty in place of us, and in so doing, saves us and enables us to enter into His Kingdom. Perhaps the most extreme, and well known, exposition of this view is the famous sermon by the Rev. Jonathan Edwards of the Puritans, entitled "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." If you're of a mind to have nightmares, don't read it too close to bed....
We see it differently. Christ came, and entered voluntarily into His Passion, in order to mount a rescue in the prison from which no rescue was possible without it. He had to die in order to go to Hades; and when he went, it was not as a bound prisoner. Not hardly. Take a look some time, a close look, at the icon called "The Harrowing of Hell". Christ stands, triumphant, centered in a mandorla of deep blue which symbolizes heaven. He stands on top of the crossed, broken-off, crushed gates of Hell. Beneath is the abyss; and in that abyss, we see broken locks, broken chain links, flotsam and jetsam of an instantaneous invasion that destroyed the prison gates once and for all. He stands, one hand pulling Adam from his grave; the other, pulling Eve, as in the background, the righteous of the Old Testament stand and marvel. John the Forerunner is there, still bearing witness "this is the One of whom I spoke".
We've been forgiven. We've been healed. And in going voluntarily to His Passion, Christ rescues us from death itself. Oh, this bag of bones I rattle around in will quit functioning at some point, sure. But death has no power to hold me separate from Him anymore. There's no gates to hold anybody in at all. Now, if someone ends up in Hell, it's because they've chosen it for themselves throughout their lives, not because it's the "default option" after our last breath.
Tomorrow (ack! past midnight already, so I'll have to say "later this morning") we will celebrate that Last Supper. We will re-enact the washing of the disciple's feet, we will share in the Holy Mysteries. Then later that night, we will remember the rest of it.
1) The betrayal.
2) The arrest.
3) The interrogations and beatings and mocking and spitting and scourging
4) The cowardice of Pilate; the hate of the crowds
5) The walk to Gesthemane
6) the hammering in of nails (think "railroad spikes" here, not something you'd put up a snapshot on the wall)
7) The agony of His Mother as She stands at the foot of the cross.
Tomorrow night, there is a song, which I will be privileged to sing partway through the twelve accounts of these events.
""Today is suspended upon the Tree,
He who suspended the land upon the waters
Today is suspended upon the Tree,
He who suspended the land upon the waters
Today is suspended upon the Tree,
He who suspended the land upon the waters
A crown of thorns crowns Him,
Who is the King of Angels.
He is wrapped about with the purple of mockery
Who wrapped the Heavens with clouds,
He received smitings,
He, Who freed Adam in the Jordan.
He is transfixed with nails,
Who is the Son of the Virgin
We worship Thy Passion, O Christ.
We worship Thy Passion, O Christ.
We worship Thy Passion, O Christ.
Show us also, Thy glorious Resurrection."
We are whom He died to rescue. We are whom He died to set right. Not because we deserve it. But simply because He loves us, and would never leave us without hope. His answer to "who would you die for?" is....you. Me. Us.
Have a blessed Holy Thursday.
---Mary Brigid
Thursday, April 17, 2008
You're doing WHAT next week?
To all those who have so kindly said they miss my blog: thank you. I hope to be able to get back to it more faithfully than I have this past year. (An improvement from zero doesn't have to be much to be an improvement....)
Much has transpired since last I wrote. We've purchased land for our retirement (still some years away, of course) with a one bedroom, one bath house on it. Fully fenced, with a couple of steers (Willy and Waylon) on it to keep our "ag exemption". A delightful mix of different microsystems such that as you walk the ranch, you go from grasslands, to wildflowers, to cactus and yucca next to a granite outcropping, then to a grove of pin oak trees. It enables our extended family to have some very pleasant star gazing parties and weekends away from the city, and will someday be our home.
It scarcely seems possible that it is the last half of April already. I'm sure Christmas was just a few weeks ago...! The west, of course, has long since celebrated Easter, the candy rabbits and creme-filled eggs are gone, and they're ramping up for the end of the school year, prom season, and summertime. Meanwhile, back in Orthodox time, we're about to start Holy Week. I was at the hair salon this morning and, as usual, my stylist asked "do you have any plans for the weekend?" I found myself trying to explain these next ten days to her, and it was amusing to watch her eyebrows creep ever higher. She was too polite to say it, but her expression was clear: you're doing WHAT next week?
Having Pascha at it's proper time, that's what.
This year's wacky western calendar was something of a gift for those of us who try to gently point friends and loved ones toward the Orthodox faith. There was a whole lot of confusion going on about why Easter was "so early" this year. Mostly the complaints I heard coupled the date with "and it was COLD!", which is, I admit, an issue if you have ideas of swishy floral dresses in lightweight fabrics to wear to church. Somehow, for us, it's frequently raining; I remember one year nervously asking Fr. Matthew if we were REALLY going to have the rush procession in what was shaping up to be a memorable lightening storm. We did. Nobody got fried...to which he'd say "of course". :-)
But the calendar was so strange because of the changes the Church of Rome made centuries ago, removing the requirement that Pascha be after Passover. Odd, because even a cursory review of the gospels reveals that Pascha was at, or just after, Passover. Because we DO require that it be at the first full moon after the equinox after Passover, ours is being observed the same way it has been done in the church since the date was originally set.
So starting tomorrow we have what we who chant call "two a days"...at least two services a day through Pascha. Tomorrow night we chant Orthros for Lazarus Saturday, Saturday morning we have the liturgy for Lazarus Saturday. Saturday night is vespers, Sunday morning, Palm Sunday, complete with procession of the palms.
Then Sunday night begins one of the most strangely beautiful customs of the church: The Bridegroom services. These are actually Orthros, or morning prayer, services, "sung in anticipation". That is, we can't wait for what's coming, so we hurry it up by 12 hours. No joke. Why "Bridegroom"? Well, Christ is the Bridegroom of the Church, the Church His Bride, as scriptures tell us. But beyond that, there is this prayer, sung every evening until Thursday:
Behold, the Bridegroom cometh at midnight!
Blessed is the servant whom He shall find awake.
But he whom He shall find neglectful is very unworthy.
Behold therefore, my soul, beware, lest thou fallest into deep slumber
and the door of the kingdom be closed against thee,
and thou be delivered unto death.
But be thou wakeful, crying "Holy! Holy! Holy! art Thou, O God".
Through the intercession of the bodiless angels, have mercy on us.
Sung three times through, the last line changes each time, from "bodiless angels" to "the Theotokos" to the patron saint of the church (in our case, St. Joseph the Betrothed).
Rather sums up the point of Lent, doesn't it?
We do presanctified liturgies in the mornings each day (and they are vesperal services), Bridegroom services at night (the following day's morning prayer). This continues through Wednesday, when on Wednesday evening we include the service of Unction, or anointing. Every member of the congregation has by now gone to confession during the Lenten season, and receives the anointing with oil that Wednesday night. Thursday morning is the last presanctified, with the service of the washing of the feet. Then comes Thursday night.
I will leave off the description here, and pick it up again early next week, in preparation for the end of Holy Week and the joy of Pascha. It is rather a lot to take in...and that is, I'm sure, deliberate. Holy Week is meant to be a week in which these services ARE what you do; when anything else is ancillary, where the absolute focus is on the drama unfolding that leads to the Cross...and to the empty tomb.
If you are not Orthodox, it doesn't matter....find an Orthodox church nearby and go, listen to these services. It is a worthwhile way to spend a couple of hours a night for one week. If you do so, please post later, and let me know how it went.
Blessings,
Mary Brigid
Much has transpired since last I wrote. We've purchased land for our retirement (still some years away, of course) with a one bedroom, one bath house on it. Fully fenced, with a couple of steers (Willy and Waylon) on it to keep our "ag exemption". A delightful mix of different microsystems such that as you walk the ranch, you go from grasslands, to wildflowers, to cactus and yucca next to a granite outcropping, then to a grove of pin oak trees. It enables our extended family to have some very pleasant star gazing parties and weekends away from the city, and will someday be our home.
It scarcely seems possible that it is the last half of April already. I'm sure Christmas was just a few weeks ago...! The west, of course, has long since celebrated Easter, the candy rabbits and creme-filled eggs are gone, and they're ramping up for the end of the school year, prom season, and summertime. Meanwhile, back in Orthodox time, we're about to start Holy Week. I was at the hair salon this morning and, as usual, my stylist asked "do you have any plans for the weekend?" I found myself trying to explain these next ten days to her, and it was amusing to watch her eyebrows creep ever higher. She was too polite to say it, but her expression was clear: you're doing WHAT next week?
Having Pascha at it's proper time, that's what.
This year's wacky western calendar was something of a gift for those of us who try to gently point friends and loved ones toward the Orthodox faith. There was a whole lot of confusion going on about why Easter was "so early" this year. Mostly the complaints I heard coupled the date with "and it was COLD!", which is, I admit, an issue if you have ideas of swishy floral dresses in lightweight fabrics to wear to church. Somehow, for us, it's frequently raining; I remember one year nervously asking Fr. Matthew if we were REALLY going to have the rush procession in what was shaping up to be a memorable lightening storm. We did. Nobody got fried...to which he'd say "of course". :-)
But the calendar was so strange because of the changes the Church of Rome made centuries ago, removing the requirement that Pascha be after Passover. Odd, because even a cursory review of the gospels reveals that Pascha was at, or just after, Passover. Because we DO require that it be at the first full moon after the equinox after Passover, ours is being observed the same way it has been done in the church since the date was originally set.
So starting tomorrow we have what we who chant call "two a days"...at least two services a day through Pascha. Tomorrow night we chant Orthros for Lazarus Saturday, Saturday morning we have the liturgy for Lazarus Saturday. Saturday night is vespers, Sunday morning, Palm Sunday, complete with procession of the palms.
Then Sunday night begins one of the most strangely beautiful customs of the church: The Bridegroom services. These are actually Orthros, or morning prayer, services, "sung in anticipation". That is, we can't wait for what's coming, so we hurry it up by 12 hours. No joke. Why "Bridegroom"? Well, Christ is the Bridegroom of the Church, the Church His Bride, as scriptures tell us. But beyond that, there is this prayer, sung every evening until Thursday:
Behold, the Bridegroom cometh at midnight!
Blessed is the servant whom He shall find awake.
But he whom He shall find neglectful is very unworthy.
Behold therefore, my soul, beware, lest thou fallest into deep slumber
and the door of the kingdom be closed against thee,
and thou be delivered unto death.
But be thou wakeful, crying "Holy! Holy! Holy! art Thou, O God".
Through the intercession of the bodiless angels, have mercy on us.
Sung three times through, the last line changes each time, from "bodiless angels" to "the Theotokos" to the patron saint of the church (in our case, St. Joseph the Betrothed).
Rather sums up the point of Lent, doesn't it?
We do presanctified liturgies in the mornings each day (and they are vesperal services), Bridegroom services at night (the following day's morning prayer). This continues through Wednesday, when on Wednesday evening we include the service of Unction, or anointing. Every member of the congregation has by now gone to confession during the Lenten season, and receives the anointing with oil that Wednesday night. Thursday morning is the last presanctified, with the service of the washing of the feet. Then comes Thursday night.
I will leave off the description here, and pick it up again early next week, in preparation for the end of Holy Week and the joy of Pascha. It is rather a lot to take in...and that is, I'm sure, deliberate. Holy Week is meant to be a week in which these services ARE what you do; when anything else is ancillary, where the absolute focus is on the drama unfolding that leads to the Cross...and to the empty tomb.
If you are not Orthodox, it doesn't matter....find an Orthodox church nearby and go, listen to these services. It is a worthwhile way to spend a couple of hours a night for one week. If you do so, please post later, and let me know how it went.
Blessings,
Mary Brigid
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