On Candlemas Sunday, the hinge of the year - midway point between winter and spring - we reverently hand out calendars of our Sunday liturgies to the people. The story of all the wonderful celebrations we have to look forward to is chanted by our singer.
The Sunday before Lent is carnival Sunday. We pick up the themes from ancient times when this period was something like a last fling before Lent. People wear colorful costumes and saucy styles. This mass is especially memorable for its dance in the opening and closing processions. People encircle the church and dance around like children at a maypole. It's sort of a dance on the graves - a bright hope against death. The dancers symbolically proclaim, "Things are not what they seem!" Our determination, our faith, our good humor and our dance will ultimately determine our end, which will be our beginning. It is a splendid day, and after the celebration we enjoy ourselves, eating pancakes and drinking coffee. That festive element is of the greatest importance to liturgy at Sacred Heart. We do try to enjoy ourselves as we go through this wonderful story of salvation.
Then comes the Lenten season with its powerful teachings. We tend to stay with the A cycle of readings to draw from them their powerful direction for Easter and their strong connection with the R.C.I.A. (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) program of parish development. Palm Sunday is a bright day in Camden for us. The day before, everyone participates in a marvelous spring clean up of the neighborhood; we also purchase thirteen bales of palm for our small congregation. On Sunday we bless it in a nearby park and go in great procession through the streets of Camden into our church. We wave the branches like the people of Manila in their recent jubilation; we lift them up above our heads and wave them with enthusiasm. As the presider incenses the congregation during the opening procession, we have great clouds of incense rising amidst the fresh green palm waving in the people's hands. This ritual of determination and hope against death is as clear as can be. As the passion is read solemnly, the people come in at eight intervals with a sun response: "We adore your cross O Lord, and we praise your resurrection." After mass we distribute palm in the neighborhood.
For several years now, we've had a seder on Holy Thursday. Gathering in the cafeteria below our church, which is decorated and transformed for the occasion, we engage in the ritual, ending with a delicious meal of lamb and vegetables. The number of places is limited to about 120, with the elderly getting preference. Twice during the ritual, the priest washes everyone's hands in perfumed water and dries them. "Let yourselves be babies and be treated with kindness on this affectionate evening," we tell our brothers and sisters.
Following the great meal, we take the special matzos and the special cup and begin the Eucharistic prayer. After communion we process from the cafeteria through the garden and into the church. Walking slowly to the alter of repose, the people carry the candelabra, candlesticks, a Menorah and the flowers that were on the tables at seder. At the end comes the consecrated bread and wind from the mass. The people create the altar of repose with their flowers and candles, like an old Polish shrine. One by one, they create this colorful place where the consecrated bread and wind will be kept for the next day.
Six or seven years ago, at the same celebration, I greeted the people as they were leaving, and an old man, a native of Yugoslavia, came up to me, kissed me on both cheeks, and said "I am 77 years old and this was the greatest night of my life." That kind of reassurance is especially treasured when it comes from the young or very old.
Our Good Friday service is not unusual, except that we place a huge cross, bigger than life, in the sanctuary and unveil it reverently. The cross in the nearby park gets a purple cloth.