As we went for our walk with the Lord through the park and the heart of downtown Malone last night, I was really struck by something. In the Gospel, we heard about two disciples on the road who could see anything but Jesus (despite how very, very close he'd come) and because of this, they nearly lost their way. As I carried the Blessed Sacrament in procession, I couldn't see anything but Jesus (with the monstrance only inches from my nose) and because of this, had to trust completely that he was the Way. Isn't this what it's all about: letting Jesus be our only guide?
Forty Hours: Votive Mass of the Most Holy Eucharist
Readings - Rev 1:5-8 / Ps 34:2-11 / 1 Cor 10:16-17 / Lk 24:13-35
40
Hours.
The first time I heard anything about it
The first time I heard anything about it
I
was a “tween,“ as they say these days.
It
was in this little black prayer book,
which
was my mother’s during her childhood before it was mine.
(I’m
so glad my mother
was able to join us tonight.)
“Devotion
of the Forty Hours,” it says
at
the head of a few pages of prayers.
But
I had no idea
what happened during those 40 hours—
or
why 40.
The
next time I heard something about 40 Hours
was
during my time in the seminary and first years as a priest.
My
elder brothers in the priesthood
would
speak nostalgically of the good ol’ days
when
many priests would come together from far and wide
to
take part in 40 Hours.
But
the stories they shared
often
had very little to do with anything that happened in church,
and
much more to do with the card playing and carousing
that
took place over in the rectory.
I’m
so pleased that a number of my brother priests—
some
of them with faces very familiar to you—
have
joined us here tonight.
Welcome! You honor us with your presence.
You
should know that we did enjoy
a
nice meal together earlier this evening…
…but
I can assure there wasn’t too much carousing!
But
the one who finally gave me a fuller picture
of
what 40 Hours is all about is our own Fr. Tom,
who
experienced it annually while in the seminary in Philadelphia.
As
we began to make plans for the Year of Faith,
it
was at the top of his list to suggestions.
And
so here we all are, 40 hours later.
We’re
indebted to you, Fr. Tom,
for
inspiring these days of prayerful renewal.
which
hasn’t taken place in Malone
or
anywhere in the Diocese of Ogdensburg,
as best we know,
for
at least 30 or 40 years—
has
meant dusting off and polishing up
a
whole bunch of stuff
pulled from our sacristies and attics.
The
more careful observers among you
will have noted that
different monstrances
were used over the last three days:
Sunday
from St. Joseph’s,
Monday from St. John Bosco,
and
today from St. Helen’s.
The
monstrance we will use for tonight’s Procession
is
from here at Notre Dame;
we
have photos from 60 to 70 years ago
showing
that very same vessel
used
for Benediction
out on the front steps of this church.
And
the embroidered ombrellino
which
will be held over the Blessed Sacrament
during
the first steps of the Procession
has
been graciously loaned to us
by
St. Patrick’s Church in Hogansburg—
the
“mother church” of Malone
and of Catholic parishes all
the way
from Massena to Churubusco.
Many
more than 40 hours
have gone into the preparations
for
these grace-filled days,
on
the part of our staff, choirs, servers, and others;
to
any and all who played a part:
our
deepest thanks.
40
Hours.
For
40 hours those two disciples on the road to Emmaus
had
been keeping quiet vigil over the Body of the Lord—
much
as we have been in this church for three days—
40
hours being the traditional period of time Christ lay in the tomb.
And
they concluded those 40 hours
by
walking with the Risen Lord along the way,
by
inviting him to their wayside table —
much
as we are about to do.
Those
two disciples spent 40 hours looking back,
conversing
about all the things that had occurred.
It
had the potential to stop them in their tracks,
leaving
them downcast;
instead,
they found their hope restored.
We
have spent these 40 hours
paging
through the old books, reminiscing about the ol’ days,
dusting
off the relics of years gone by
not
as a lesson in history,
but
because they hold promise for the future.
You
see, for the Church,
Tradition
isn’t about being old fashioned;
it
holds the mysterious power to keep things novel and fresh—
and
that’s because it comes to us from God,
who
is Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end,
ever-ancient
and ever-new.
Our
40 Hours are coming to an end,
but
they are really only a beginning.
May
we not be like those disciples on the way to Emmaus:
slow
of heart to believe,
our
eyes prevented from recognizing the Lord,
alive
and present here in our midst.
Have
we not felt our hearts burning within us?
Instead,
let us set out at once and recount
to
our families, our coworkers, our friends,
all
that has taken place.
Jesus
Christ is made known to us once more
in
the breaking of bread!
No comments:
Post a Comment