Passiontide

The final stage in the journey of Lent toward Easter is Passiontide, which will begin this coming Sunday. Judica is the 5th Sunday in Lent, also called “Passion Sunday.” A review of the season, its special rubrics, and its significance follows.

During Passiontide the crosses and statues are veiled, and every instance of the Gloria Patri disappears. It is appropriate that even the Trinitarian doxologies of any hymns be omitted.

A question commonly asked is “Why do we drape and cover the crosses as we get closer to Good Friday, as our attention upon the last hours and the sufferings of Our Lord increases?” We do this in part to remember that we don’t deserve even to look upon the Holy Cross. We are not worthy of the Sacrifice. The crucifix has from the earliest days of Christendom been our greatest and most cherished symbol. So it is partially taken away from us for a short time, that we might learn the better to appreciate it when it returns. The crosses are not taken away completely. They are not removed; they are covered. We can see outlines of the crosses, but their beauty and details are fuzzy. This reminds us that in a way our grief itself prevents us from seeing clearly, until the Good Friday liturgy and, of course, Easter. It also reminds us of Our Lord’s actions in response to the violence of the people, in the Gospel for Judica Sunday: the Lord “Jesus hid Himself.” That is why it is customary to place these veils not before but during the Service directly after the reading of the Gospel.

The idea of removing the Gloria Patri is much the same. Jesus revealed for us the Holy Triune Name on the day of His Ascension: this is the fullest and complete revelation of God’s Name given to men. To take away the Gloria Patri for two weeks is a bit jarring. It is particularly awkward when we omit it at the end of the Nunc Dimittis. Because this removal is so stark, it has the counterintuitive effect of drawing our attention to it. All of this is that we would learn to mortify our own flesh and to depend ever more upon the grace of God in Christ. For never, even in our most somber of ceremonies, is the Church in doubt about the end. Jesus died but is not dead. Jesus lives. Easter is coming. We wait, as it were, with bated breath. The Alleluias (which we have not sung at all throughout Lent), the Gloria Patris, the crosses, the self-denied foods: all these shall return, and because they were removed for a short time, their return becomes all the more worthy of celebration. But even better than that, we shall have them all forever when our own resurrections occur at the Last Day.

Passiontide extends through Holy Week and the Triduum Sacrum (“three holy days”—which includes Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday). The single exception to these Passiontide rubrics is that at Maundy Thursday evening mass the Greater Gloria (Gloria in Excelsis) is sung.

Then comes the close of the Maundy Thursday evening Mass, which liturgically continues throughout the Triduum. For this reason it has no Benediction.

Immediately following the Benedicamus, therefore, the celebrant and attendants remove their Eucharistic Vestments, the Altar is stripped, and any remaining Sanctuary decorations are removed, while the congregation sings a Psalm (traditionally, Psalm 22, without Gloria). The only remaining items in the Sanctuary (chancel) are the immovable pieces of furniture, laid bare. The congregation departs in silence afterwards.

On Good Friday, all remains bare, although a minimal use of linens is acceptable and proper if the Sacrament is celebrated during this time; and indeed some parishes have an entire set of black paraments for this day. The presiding minister or celebrant and his attendants enter in silence and prostrate themselves before the entrance to the Sanctuary (chancel) while silently praying a psalm, such as Psalm 51. The silence is deep. The opening collect for Good Friday is appropriately a prayer for “this Thy family,” suggesting a funeral. During the Service even the customary introductions and responses are removed from the readings. The organ is not played; all singing is a capella. Silence is kept at various times throughout. The entire atmosphere is somber, as befits a solemn funeral. Afterwards the congregation departs in silence. The prevailing mood is one of utterly humble gratitude.

The intensity thus builds from Passion Sunday until the Great Vigil of Easter on Holy Saturday, when we finally arrive with the women at the empty tomb to observe, during the Service, the point at which Lent ends and Easter begins.

Throughout Passiontide, which leads intensely to its close, there are therefore additional modes of “fasting,” although we hasten to add that it is never appropriate to “fast” from the Blessed Sacrament, since we confess that even in our darkest moments Christ is always with us, especially when we arrive at the Altar. He is always there for us in His life-giving, sin-forgiving, holy Body and Blood.

At the very conclusion of Passiontide and of Lent itself, the lights are turned up and the announcement breaks forth, “Christ is risen!” to which comes the hearty reply, “He is risen indeed. Alleluia!” The special rubrics and detail of Passiontide serve to make this moment and all that follows the more heartfelt and festive.