One day I intend to write a hilarious short story set exclusively within the context of the immersion baptismal font. Within that setting I have encountered intense intimacy, fear, wardrobe malfunctions, hysteria, near drownings, and transcendence.
If you have ever witnessed an immersion baptism and wondered what that encounter is like, here it is: It’s still semi-dark in the church. The water is warm. You’re inside an oasis while electric energy crackles through the atmosphere. An adult steps into the pool and you whisper a few reassuring words and instructions before submerging that person in blessed and refreshing water. This extraordinary experience is unlike any other human or divine encounter.
I suspect we are all looking for that submersion experience in life. To some extent we are enfolded in the seductive atmosphere of materialism when we enter a department store, absorbed into a story of courage and romance when we sit in a movie theatre, distracted by the pleasures of the palate when dining in a fine restaurant.
When attending church on Sunday, there is the opportunity of immersing oneself in the community, the sounds of sacred texts, the gestures and responses, the back and forth of music and spoken word. Liturgy is a world apart and there should be an atmosphere in the places where we gather that allows us to be submerged in the uniqueness of Lent, Holy Week, and Easter.
Suggestions for Palm Sunday
Only inclement weather would prevent me from beginning Holy Week with a procession on Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord. I happen to live in a part of the world where the climate is almost always agreeable and look forward to the annual shifting of the assembly from the church to the outside area. After the proclamation of the Gospel and blessing of palms, we present a sweep of red silk cloth that is used in the procession. The two “ministers of the cloth” start and stop, moving forward and then pausing to allow the cloth to float up into the air and settle down again, as we make the journey into the worship space. The procession, including the red silk, enters the church amid the waving of palms and singing of “Hosanna.” As they approach the sanctuary, one cloth bearer goes behind and the other in front. The fabric is placed across the altar, the single adornment in the sanctuary.
Suggestions for Triduum & Easter
Triduum is a quick-change marathon for those who oversee the church environment: three days, one celebration, and precious little time to pull everything together as we enter into the most intense days of our entire year. So I suggest—simplify.
In my current parish, foot washing stations are set up throughout the space with a small table, candle, and stack of white towels. They are in place at the arrival of the assembly and remain throughout the liturgy as a symbol of service—the preeminent theme of the evening. If you adjust the church lighting downward the candlelit tables glow throughout the church and the assembly is immersed in this practical and profound environment.
Good Friday invites people into a tomb, so remove everything not absolutely essential. I flank the ambo with two plain wooden stands. When it is time for the proclamation of the Passion, the Book of the Gospels is led into the space with two large candles in clay bowls to be placed on top of the stands. The red silk cloth from Passion Sunday leads the book procession. The sound of the fabric snapping up into the air and the slashing of deep red appearing and disappearing above the heads of the assembly envelops the congregation in the weight and significance of the story about to unfurl. The red silk is pooled in front of the sanctuary and becomes the base for the upcoming arrival of the cross and its adoration.
If it is possible for you to continue to function after Good Friday, stop. Halt the ongoing momentum of task and movement and pause to consider what you are about to do for the Easter Vigil and Easter morning. Resist, if humanly possible, the insistent urge to start pulling every shiny object from storage and place them in the sanctuary. Instead, consider the space. Sit in one of the pews and observe the architecture of your church and ask yourself how you can enhance it. What have you already been using throughout this Lent and Holy Week? Can some of those elements be adapted and incorporated simply into the Easter environment? Can the story you have been telling continue?
In Closing
More and more we find ourselves in this multi-platform, multi-tasking world where everyone’s attention is splintered in multiple—and far too many—directions. I believe we are longing for a place where our attention can focus on the hunger we all experience for grace, hope, and transcendence. We are craving immersion in the simple truth that we are loved and forgiven. Those tasked with the worship environment are given a unique opportunity to assist in the submerging of all seekers into a sacred space. Perhaps if we can pare away distractions it will be possible to immerse ourselves in the truth of this moment. And the truth is this: with God there are infinite possibilities.
You can find more seasonal resources on our Lent and Easter page, here.
Originally published in Today’s Liturgy © 2014 OCP. All rights reserved.