We had our wake on Friday (see earlier posts here and here for more background). It was attended by a small handful of folks, most of whom came later in the evening. We ended up hosting it in our living room once again, as the other available spaces seemed too big, and having it at home simplified our childcare logistics considerably. (As it worked out, the boy was soundly asleep before anyone else even arrived, so we were both able to be present for the whole time that anyone else was there).

I did end up rearranging the room considerably, putting the two couches facing each other, with the icon at the far end, and a good chunk of open space in the middle, which made the room feel much less claustrophobic than last year. That and baking significant quantities of hot cross buns took most of the day, but I was really happy with how things came out.

This year, people used the sharing time to process the main holy week liturgies that they had been to so far in the week, and to work through some of the thoughts and feelings that those liturgies had brought up.

I mentioned before that I think of this as a supplemental liturgy, perhaps akin to the more familiar Maundy Thursday vigil that some churches keep overnight. It struck me this year that it might be a helpful thing to offer to a core Holy Week liturgy team in a parish, to give them some calmer time to process without having to be doing anything. It could also work well (perhaps with light modification) as an open chapel during the day on Holy Saturday, or possibly even spanning the time between the end of the main Good Friday liturgy and the beginning of the Easter Vigil.

If you’re interested, there’s a few more pictures on the new Doing Public Work Flickr account.

All in all, I’m very happy with how it came out this year. Next year, we’ll be somewhere new, likely somewhere with it’s own way of doing Holy Week. It will be interesting to see if and how this might fit into a new context.

Addendum: My friend Terry has a post up with a picture of another burial icon by Miranda, made for the Episcopal Church of the Advocate in Chapel Hill/Carrboro, NC. In addition to the wake, they use the icon at last station of a stations of the cross which walks through Carrboro and ends at in the town cemetery. Afterwards the flowers are distributed to the graves around.

Our son G., who is nearly 3, loved it because there were a lot of other–mostly bigger–kids there. Many of them had come early to help bake the bread, and so when we moved up to the sanctuary, the kids brought up the bread and the wine as a group, and then were invited to stay up around the altar during the Eucharistic prayer. G., quite the extrovert, loved this as well, and spent his time up there being held up by one of the older girls, waving to the congregation (some of whom waved back), spinning around, jumping, and generally having a great time as part of a pack of kids.

The kids had communion first, and then the rest of us went up, and the kids went back to sit with their parents. G. was quite indignant about this, he wanted to stay up there, or be with the other kids.

As they started stripping the altar, he was also saying that he wanted bread. I thought he maybe wanted more bread, or that he was upset because he didn’t also get bread when he was with us. As it turned out, though, it appears that he didn’t get communion at all, that somehow he got missed in the shuffle of the pack of kids, and then when we went up, we thought he had already got some with the other kids.

This came out at home as I was trying to get him to sleep–well past his normal bedtime. I almost had him down, when suddenly he remembered that he hadn’t had any bread at communion. He was instantly in tears and inconsolable. I felt terrible–of all the days to be left out of sharing in the bread! I tried getting some pita from the kitchen to give him, but even in a completely dark room, without even looking at it or touching it, he refused it as not being the right thing, and only got more upset.

Fortunately, it turned out that M. had a wafer left in the communion kit she uses at the hospital for her chaplaincy internship, which very quickly resolved the situation. G. was communicated, and thus fed, happily snuggled up and fell asleep a few minutes later.

. . .

I grew up in the Roman Catholic Church, where children join in communion only after instruction and preparation, and eventually a First Communion. In the Episcopal Church, communion is open to all who have been baptized (and some places now are experimenting with removing even that restriction). G has been receiving communion for over two years already. It was surprising to me at first, right after his baptism. I wondered at offering such a thing to an infant who did not understand what it was. I have since had the joy to be shown again and again that an infant, a young child, can indeed understand enough about shared food, a community gathered around a table. Enough to run to the altar to claim his share in Christ’s body, and enough to shed tears and lose sleep when denied that share, even inadvertently.

And how much do I understand, really? And insofar as I think I have any understanding now, it has come not from instruction received, but in participating again and again, week after week, in churches familiar and strange, home and away, again and again remembering that we are called to eat and become Christ’s body.

G. already has a significant head start on me there.

Maundy Thursday: Mass celebrated twice.

XXXV On the fifth weekday everything that is customary is done from the first cockcrow until morning at the Anastasis, and also at the third and at the sixth hours. But at the eighth hour all the people gather together at the martyrium according to custom, only earlier than on other days, because the dismissal must be made sooner. Then, when the people are gathered together, all that should be done is done, and the oblation is made on that day at the martyrium, the dismissal taking place about the tenth hour. But before the dismissal is made there, the archdeacon raises his voice and says: “Let us all assemble at the first hour of the night in the church which is in Eleona, for great toil awaits us to-day, in this very night.”

2. Then, after the dismissal at the martyrium, they arrive behind the Cross, where only one hymn is said and prayer is made, and the bishop offers the oblation there, and all communicate. Nor is the oblation ever offered behind the Cross on any day throughout the year, except on this one day. And after the dismissal there they go to the Anastasis, where prayer is made, the catechumens and the faithful are blessed according to custom, and the dismissal is made.

Night Station on the Mount of Olives.

And so every one hastens back to his house to eat, because immediately after they have eaten, all go to Eleona to the church wherein is the cave where the Lord was with His Apostles on this very day.

3. There then, until about the fifth hour of the night, hymns and antiphons suitable to the day and to the place are said, lessons, too, are read in like manner, with prayers interspersed, and the passages from the Gospel are read where the Lord addressed His disciples on that same day as He sat in the same cave which is in that church.

4. And they go thence at about the sixth hour of the night with hymns up to the Imbomon, the place whence the Lord ascended into heaven, where again lessons are read, hymns and antiphons suitable to the day are said, and all the prayers which are made by the bishop are also suitable both to the day and to the place.

Stations at Gethsemane.

XXXVI And at the first cockcrow they come down from the Imbomon with hymns, and arrive at the place where the Lord prayed, as it is written in the Gospel: and He was withdrawn (from them) about a stone’s cast, and prayed, and the rest. There is in that place a graceful church The bishop and all the people enter, a prayer suitable to the place and to the day is said, with one suitable hymn, and the passage from the Gospel is read where He said to His disciples: Watch, that ye enter not into temptation; the whole passage is read through and prayer is made.

2. And then all, even to the smallest child, go down with the Bishop, on foot, with hymns to Gethsemane; where, on account of the great number of people in the crowd, who are wearied owing to the vigils and weak through the daily fasts, and because they have so great a hill to descend, they come very slowly with hymns to Gethsemane. And over two hundred church candles are made ready to give light to all the people.

3. On their arrival at Gethsemane, first a suitable prayer is made, then a hymn is said, then the passage of the Gospel is read where the Lord was taken. And when this passage has been read there is so great a moaning and groaning of all the people, together with weeping, that their lamentation may be heard perhaps as far as the city.

Return to Jerusalem.

From that hour they go with hymns to the city on foot, reaching the gate about the time when one man begins to be able to recognise another, and thence right on through the midst of the city; all, to a man, both great and small, rich and poor, all are ready there, for on that special day not a soul withdraws from the vigils until morning. Thus the bishop is escorted from Gethsemane to the gate, and thence through the whole of the city to the Cross.

So here’s Palm Sunday. Note that Egeria actually begins with a liturgy on Saturday in Bethany, commemorating Lazarus. I love her description of the procession of the Palms.

Egeria: Translation (Hat tip to Irenic Thoughts for pointing me towards this electronic version.)

Palm Sunday: Services in the Churches.

XXX On the next day, that is, the Lord’s Day, which begins the Paschal week, and which they call here the Great Week, when all the customary services from cockcrow until morning have taken place in the Anastasis and at the Cross, they proceed on the morning of the Lord’s Day according to custom to the greater church, which is called the martyrium. It is called the martyrium because it is in Golgotha behind the Cross, where the Lord suffered.

2. When all that is customary has been observed in the great church, and before the dismissal is made, the archdeacon lifts his voice and says first: ” Throughout the whole week, beginning from to-morrow, let us all assemble in the martyrium, that is, in the great church, at the ninth hour.” Then he lifts his voice again, saying: ” Let us all be ready to-day in Eleona at the seventh hour.”

3. So when the dismissal has been made in the great church! that is, the martyrium, the bishop is escorted with hymns to the Anastasis, and after all things that are customary on the Lord’s Day have been done there, after the dismissal from the martyrium, every one hastens home to eat, that all may be ready at the beginning of the seventh hour in the church in Eleona, on the Mount of Olives, where is the cave in which the Lord was wont to teach.

Procession with Palms on the Mount of Olives.

XXXI Accordingly at the seventh hour all the people go up to the Mount of Olives, that is, to Eleona, and the bishop with them, to the church, where hymns and antiphons suitable to the day and to the place are said, and lessons in like manner. And when the ninth hour approaches they go up with hymns to the Imbomon, that is, to the place whence the Lord ascended into heaven, and there they sit down, for all the people are always bidden to sit when the bishop is present; the deacons alone always stand. Hymns and antiphons suitable to the day and to the place are said, interspersed with lections and prayers.

2. And as the eleventh hour approaches, the passage from the Gospel is read, where the children, carrying branches and palms, met the Lord, saying; Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord, and the bishop immediately rises, and all the people with him, and they all go on foot from the top of the Mount of Olives, all the people going before him with hymns and antiphons, answering one to another: Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.

3. And all the children in the neighbourhood, even those who are too young to walk, are carried by their parents on their shoulders, all of them bearing branches, some of palms and some of olives, and thus the bishop is escorted in the same manner as the Lord was of old.

4. For all, even those of rank, both matrons and men, accompany the bishop all the way on foot in this manner, making these responses, from the top of the mount to the city, and thence through the whole city to the Anastasis, going very slowly lest the people should be wearied; and thus they arrive at the Anastasis at a late hour. And on arriving, although it is late, lucernare takes place, with prayer at the Cross; after which the people are dismissed.

• Palm/Passion Sunday
• Maundy Thursday
• Good Friday
• Easter Vigil

Blessings on your final preparations!

Here’s a couple more images from Miranda. The one on the left goes fairly obviously with the Liturgy of the Palms. The one to the right was designed for a particular Good Friday service at a church she works with. The combination of bread, wine, and a crown of thorns makes it a little unusual, in the way it brings together Maundy Thursday and Good Friday imagery.

Things are a little busy around here. I hope I can get here to give a little more explanation soon, but I wanted to get these images up in case they might be useful to anyone as we head into Holy Week.

Download links for the full size images and copyright information after the break.

Full size images:
Palm Sunday Hosannah
Eucharist and Crown of Thorns

These images are available for use under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License, so you can use them and distribute them as long as you give credit the artist, Miranda Hassett, and keep the license information available. You need to ask if you want to use them for any commercial or moneymaking purposes, and you also need to ask to alter the image.

And if course, we’d love to hear from anyone who uses this or any of the other images she makes available here.

All liturgy is local. It happens in a particular place, a particular context, and with a particular set of people. It is sometimes difficult to know who those people will be, what they will bring, what they will expect.

This is what I’ve been pondering while thinking how to better arrange a Good Friday Wake here at the EDS campus. Here’s what is likely: many, if not all, of the people who come will be seminarians, or connected with seminarians. Many of them will be very deeply involved in Holy Week liturgies in churches scattered around the area. They will not, for the most part, be sharing a common experience of Holy Week. Last year, a few who came expressed some gratitude at being given a chance to pause and reflect in the middle of their intense involvement in Holy Week events at their own churches.

So here’s what I’m thinking about changing. We’re looking into other space on campus that we might be able to use. There were nice things about having it in our living room last year, but the space was too small to allow people to move much. The hot cross buns and tea will stay, partly because i like making them, but more because I think it’s important to feed people, and because it gives them something to do and hold while contemplating, leaving them just a little less exposed.

I think we will move away from asking people to share their stories and memories; that worked very well in a fairly closely knit mission church going through Holy Week together, but I think it requires a level of trust and intimacy that can’t be assumed in this context.

Since most of those who come will likely be students, I’d like to find a way to invite them to bring a short reading or poem, something meaningful to them as they think about Jesus’ death, but perhaps somewhat less intimately personal.

Aside from that, I’m trying to find a simple sung refrain that we can use. So far we’re considering a Taizé song, “Stay with me/ wait here with me/ watch and pray.” Miranda also found this troparion from the Orthodox Good Friday Vespers:

The Noble Joseph took down Your most pure body from the cross and, anointing it with fragrant spices, he wrapped it in a clean linen and put it in a new tomb.

Which is lovely, but perhaps a little wordy to learn for people coming in and out, and I’m not sure where to come up with a musical setting for it.

I know I promised a script over a week ago, but this one is slow coming, partly because it’s taking my thoughts a while to take shape, and partly because it’s been hard to find any time to dedicate to the task. Soon, I hope.

Update (3/16/2008): A draft script is now available. This will continue to change over the next several days, but I wanted to share what I’m working with right now. Feedback is certainly appreciated.