H
hannajomar
Guest
I have never experienced such intimacy at Easter Vigil as I did this year! There was just something electric about it for me.
The church itself was comfortably full, no one had to stand. Even though it was crowded, it seemed that most were very engaged in what was going on. Even a significant debacle had meaning. The priest announced we were now going to sing the litany of the saints. He waited a moment for the organ to start. When it didn’t, he directly cued the organist who was going to lead the singing as well, “Organist, please start the litany of the Saints.” I turned around, expecting to see him scurrying back to the organ in the choir loft. The choir was up there, but no organist. The pastor tried to stall a minute or two, hoping he would be back soon. But then he announced we would recite it instead. But an associate priest went to the microphone with his missalette, and lead the litany, singing accapello. While something like that can often break the focus of worship, it only intensified it in this case. The congregation sang the response, “pray for us,” over and over, in tune, together, and meaning it. I felt as though we were saying, “we are here to celebrate the Resurrection, and that’s what we’re going to do, no matter what!” (Someone in the choir later told me the organist left to get water during the homily. It was unexpectedly short from our normally verbose pastor, so he thought he had much more time than he had.)
We had one person Baptized, and about a dozen others fully received into the Church. We applauded and cheered after the Baptism and after the Confirmations. I often can’t stand applauding during Mass, but this was appropriate. I grew up in the northeast USA of Italian and Irish descent. While my family is usually very loud, we always had to be very quiet in church, even in a nervous way. But now that I am at a parish with many Caribbean immigrants, I am seeing that there are times we can be more expressive during Mass.
The church itself was comfortably full, no one had to stand. Even though it was crowded, it seemed that most were very engaged in what was going on. Even a significant debacle had meaning. The priest announced we were now going to sing the litany of the saints. He waited a moment for the organ to start. When it didn’t, he directly cued the organist who was going to lead the singing as well, “Organist, please start the litany of the Saints.” I turned around, expecting to see him scurrying back to the organ in the choir loft. The choir was up there, but no organist. The pastor tried to stall a minute or two, hoping he would be back soon. But then he announced we would recite it instead. But an associate priest went to the microphone with his missalette, and lead the litany, singing accapello. While something like that can often break the focus of worship, it only intensified it in this case. The congregation sang the response, “pray for us,” over and over, in tune, together, and meaning it. I felt as though we were saying, “we are here to celebrate the Resurrection, and that’s what we’re going to do, no matter what!” (Someone in the choir later told me the organist left to get water during the homily. It was unexpectedly short from our normally verbose pastor, so he thought he had much more time than he had.)
We had one person Baptized, and about a dozen others fully received into the Church. We applauded and cheered after the Baptism and after the Confirmations. I often can’t stand applauding during Mass, but this was appropriate. I grew up in the northeast USA of Italian and Irish descent. While my family is usually very loud, we always had to be very quiet in church, even in a nervous way. But now that I am at a parish with many Caribbean immigrants, I am seeing that there are times we can be more expressive during Mass.
