We are entering into the Triduum, the most sacred days in the Christian calendar, and for me the most painful days of the year.
I come into these Easter celebrations with a lot of baggage. I have dwelt on this long and hard; words on this topic have previously appeared in these pages. I won’t pretend that any tremendous healing has taken place in the four years since. Certainly marriage and parenthood have imposed significant influence on my outlook and reactions to things. I have grown, and am still growing. But the road to healing, to wholeness, is exceedingly long.
For the first time in several years — perhaps for the first time ever — I have the opportunity to celebrate the Triduum alone. Of course, no liturgical worship can happen alone; it is by definition the activity of a worshiping community. But I know well how to be alone in a crowd, and the welcoming glow of community has seldom warmed me. I hope in this holy and sacred season that I can find the grace to turn a corner, to further my reintegration into the loving People of God.
This last is not a thing I take lightly. My past has been all about the Church, and now I am confident once again that my future is to be largely about the Church as well. But to do so I need to relearn how to be a Christian. Not in the sense of faith, of being a believer, but in terms of relationship, of feeling myself a part of a human community. I don’t know where to begin, other than to go and pray with other Christians, and to keep doing so. Therfore, with only my lonely heart, I go to celebrate the sacrificial love of my God, and to dare to open myself to grace, to love, and to hope.
Know my friend, that no matter how far we may be, I am there with you. I know well your journey and can empathize from my own heart. Peace!