Holy Week 2016/ 2016年圣周
This year, 2016, marked my tenth Holy Week in China. I had a hard time believing it when we reached the fifth and sixth, but this is now the tenth. It does not seem possible, not at all. But tenth it is.
It began, as they always do, with the blessing of branches, and hailing Jesus as he entered Jerusalem. In Chinese, the Sunday before Easter is called 圣枝主日shèng zhī zhǔ rì, Holy Branch Day, not Palm Sunday.
Myles picked this poor branch, calling it the "Charlie Brown Holy Branch." All it needed was a little love.
And then it was time for our procession.
More after the jump
I really like the door-opening part of the procession. We have some seriously large doors at our parish.
It was so crowded, we couldn't get inside until communion. Fortunately, the weather was unseasonably warm and the PA system worked so we could hear everything.
On Holy Thursday we arrived at the church while there was still daylight, and we saw the altar of repose was set up outside. This would be moved into the seminary chapel much later that night, after all the parishioners left.
Our Mass was the same as it always has been, which is how we like it.
Though, since this was our tenth Holy Week in China, I occasionally had moments when I wondered if this were to be our last Chinese Holy Week. Not that we have immediate or even indefinite plans, but everyone has to leave sometime, so they say. I wondered often the rest of Triduum, do I have everything I need to remember what a Chinese Holy Week was like, if I never get to return?
How will Myles and Brigid remember it? Lots of kneeling on pavement and bricks? Will they remember the chanting?
On Good Friday we arrived at the church more than an hour before Stations of the Cross would begin. The altar of repose had been moved upstairs, to the Seminary chapel. I went up there while the kids sat in the courtyard, reading from one of our Bible Story books.
Good Friday, shrouded in purple.
We began at 3:00 with Stations of the Cross, 苦路 Kǔ lù. As they have every year, one of our priests carried a wooden cross around the campus.
Circling around the church and school grounds, seminarians stood holding an image of a Station. In front of each we dropped to our knees and chanted. Walking in between we sang hymns.
I had made new cheat sheets for Myles this year, to match my own. He really kept up with the chants.
After Stations we returned to the inside of the church for the Good Friday service.
It is finished. 完成了. Wánchéngle In this case the Chinese is as beautifully and tragically brief.
I am afraid that the kneeling will be stronger in the kids' memories than the chanting. Or maybe at least the chant that comes before kneeling, "请大家跪下."
Easter Vigil remains one of our favorites. I love being at the seminary at night.
Even Myles and Brigid are excited for the beginning. Masses that begin with fire, you know.
And candles.
The highly anticipated return of our organ during the Gloria, but this year, to Brigid's disappointment, without the accompaniment of the bells.
And Alleluia!
This year's banner read 主真复活了! Zhǔ zhēn fùhuóle 阿来路亚! āláilùyà
The Lord has truly risen! Alleluia!
Seriously----this was our tenth Holy Week and Easter in China. Emotions and difficult-to-articulate thoughts race through my heart and mind when I consider the challenges and blessings from observing (participating in?) the Passion, Cross, and Resurrection in China. I would not have believed I would have made it to ten, nor that I would feel gratitude at these ten years of experiences.
It began, as they always do, with the blessing of branches, and hailing Jesus as he entered Jerusalem. In Chinese, the Sunday before Easter is called 圣枝主日shèng zhī zhǔ rì, Holy Branch Day, not Palm Sunday.
Myles picked this poor branch, calling it the "Charlie Brown Holy Branch." All it needed was a little love.
And then it was time for our procession.
More after the jump
I really like the door-opening part of the procession. We have some seriously large doors at our parish.
It was so crowded, we couldn't get inside until communion. Fortunately, the weather was unseasonably warm and the PA system worked so we could hear everything.
On Holy Thursday we arrived at the church while there was still daylight, and we saw the altar of repose was set up outside. This would be moved into the seminary chapel much later that night, after all the parishioners left.
Our Mass was the same as it always has been, which is how we like it.
Though, since this was our tenth Holy Week in China, I occasionally had moments when I wondered if this were to be our last Chinese Holy Week. Not that we have immediate or even indefinite plans, but everyone has to leave sometime, so they say. I wondered often the rest of Triduum, do I have everything I need to remember what a Chinese Holy Week was like, if I never get to return?
How will Myles and Brigid remember it? Lots of kneeling on pavement and bricks? Will they remember the chanting?
On Good Friday we arrived at the church more than an hour before Stations of the Cross would begin. The altar of repose had been moved upstairs, to the Seminary chapel. I went up there while the kids sat in the courtyard, reading from one of our Bible Story books.
Good Friday, shrouded in purple.
We began at 3:00 with Stations of the Cross, 苦路 Kǔ lù. As they have every year, one of our priests carried a wooden cross around the campus.
Circling around the church and school grounds, seminarians stood holding an image of a Station. In front of each we dropped to our knees and chanted. Walking in between we sang hymns.
I had made new cheat sheets for Myles this year, to match my own. He really kept up with the chants.
After Stations we returned to the inside of the church for the Good Friday service.
It is finished. 完成了. Wánchéngle In this case the Chinese is as beautifully and tragically brief.
I am afraid that the kneeling will be stronger in the kids' memories than the chanting. Or maybe at least the chant that comes before kneeling, "请大家跪下."
Easter Vigil remains one of our favorites. I love being at the seminary at night.
Even Myles and Brigid are excited for the beginning. Masses that begin with fire, you know.
And candles.
The highly anticipated return of our organ during the Gloria, but this year, to Brigid's disappointment, without the accompaniment of the bells.
And Alleluia!
This year's banner read 主真复活了! Zhǔ zhēn fùhuóle 阿来路亚! āláilùyà
The Lord has truly risen! Alleluia!
Seriously----this was our tenth Holy Week and Easter in China. Emotions and difficult-to-articulate thoughts race through my heart and mind when I consider the challenges and blessings from observing (participating in?) the Passion, Cross, and Resurrection in China. I would not have believed I would have made it to ten, nor that I would feel gratitude at these ten years of experiences.
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