How Veiled Statues Might Blind the Catechumens

On her Work of the People blog, Diana Macalintal does an excellent job of clarifying the various understandings of the rubrics regarding the veiling of crosses and statues during Lent. Regardless of the permissions allowed however, one has to wonder about the retention of this medieval practice in the post-Vatican II church.

The veiling of images in the Western church has its origins in shrouding of all the liturgical elements (including the chalice!) in unbleached linen or silk during the middle ages. This shrouding took place at the beginning of Lent, and everything remained covered until the Gloria of the Easter Vigil. According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, the symbolism of the shrouding was to remind us that this is a time when Christ remains hidden and does not walk openly among the people.

With the reform of the Second Vatican Council, we no longer think of Lent as a time in the desert, absent of Christ’s constant presence. Indeed, the reverse is the case. With the Elect among us every Sunday of Lent, Christ is perhaps more intensely recognized than at other times of the year. The intensity of Christ among us is clearly symbolized in the “recognition” stories of the Woman at the Well, the Man Born Blind, and the Raising of Lazarus, which are proclaimed during the Scrutinies.

While the theme of repentance is not forgotten during Lent, it is contextualized as a “special season for the ascent to the holy mountain of Easter…[that] disposes both the catechumens and the faithful to celebrate the paschal mystery… (Ceremonial of Bishops, 249). The Ceremonial goes on to say that “the bishop should be deeply concerned to promote the formation of catechumens” (250).

What formation will the veiling of statues provide for the catechumens? That Christ is not in the font, but in the tomb? That Christ is not now welling up in their hearts as with the Woman at the Well, but will be delayed in arriving until the Gloria of the Easter Vigil?

There seems to be little value in the veiling of statues beyond nostalgia, and the practice has the potential of providing a counter-catechesis for the Elect and the faithful. When it comes to shrouding the images in Lent, it is best we paraphrase the words of Jesus to Lazarus’ startled loved ones: “Unbind them, and let them go.”

Preaching from Triduum to Triduum

In Whole Community Liturgy, I suggest that parish leaders develop a year-long preaching plan based on how they plan to lead parish growth and faith development in the coming year. The best time to start this plan is in the weeks just after the Triduum. That way, parish growth and development can be measured from Triduum to Triduum. The parish should ask itself how it has grown in faith and holiness in the last year. The homilies throughout the year should be the inspiration for keeping the parish on track with investing its talents.

For a simple outline for a preaching planning retreat, see the Center for Excellence in Preaching site. The day is based on a Bible-preaching (vs. liturgical preaching) model, and is designed for a single person. However, it could easily be adapted to a liturgically oriented team retreat.

RCIA resources

In the March 2007 issue of Today's Parish Minister, Paul Turner writes:

To receive a previously baptized Christian into the church in the same ceremony when catechumens are being baptized blurs the nature of the Easter Vigil.

He provides some supporting resources below that back up his statement.

What do you think?

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Johnson, Maxwell E. “Let’s Stop Receiving ‘Converts’ at Easter.” In Worship: Rites, Feasts, and Reflections. Portland: Pastoral Press, 2004, 83–94.

Journey to the Fullness of Life. Washington DC: United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2000.

Oakham, Ronald A., ed. One at the Table: The Reception of Baptized Christians. Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1995.

Sieverding, Dale. The Reception of Baptized Christians: A History and Evaluation. Forum Essays 7. Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 2001.

Turner, Paul. When Other Christians Become Catholic. Pueblo. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007.

The Fire of Faith

The choir huddled together near a wood pile stacked higher than Jane’s head. “Holy Week,” she thought. “Yeah, right. What’s so holy about it?” Nothing had gone right since it started. She loved her sixth grade Sunday school class, but the only part of the Passion play they got right last Sunday was the mob scene. Not exactly a dramatic stretch for most of them.

Then she and Tom had had a fight about…what? She couldn’t remember. But he should know better. rehearsals for the kids, planning Easter dinner, trying to get caught up at work (and failing) so she could take Good Friday off. “Wouldn’t a good husband cut you a little slack?” she thought.

And then John had been a real pain all day. “Mom, do we have to go to Easter Vigil?” he whined. “It’s going to be cold.” He had begged her to join the seasonal choir with him. “It would be a lenten family thing,” he explained. “Like Father Thompson told us to do on Ash Wednesday.” She knew it had much more to do with Mary Beth Richards in the soprano section than Father Thompson, but whatever gets the kid to church.

Her own voice, unused to regular singing, was raw from practicing and from the rainy weather. The seminarian intern—-what was he thinking?—-had talked Father Thompson into starting the Vigil outside this year. John stood sullen at her side, alternating between pouting and stealing glances at Mary Beth.

“Dear friends in Christ,” said Father Thompson, “on this most holy night….” John stifled a yawn. Jane elbowed him, and gave him her best “DON’T YOU DARE” look. “We ask this through Christ our Lord.” Boom! Boom! Boom! Someone was pounding a drum. A torch appeared, snaking its way above the heads of the crowd.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Jane realized they were too close to the wood and began to inch backward. The torch bearer tossed the flame into the wood. Woosh! Flames lit up the night. Boom! Boom! Boom!

Jane grabbed her son’s arm to pull him back, but he wouldn’t move. He stared into the flame, his face glowing in the fire light. “Wow!” he said to the fire. “Is that what God’s like?”

“Holy Week,” thought Jane. “Holy indeed.”

Holy Smoke

The first time I was an M.C. for an Easter Vigil, I used so much incense I think the choir, up in the loft, had trouble seeing their music. If I only I would have had this contraption, think what might have happened!