The retable doors are closed, the carpet is gone, ‘Alleluia’ no longer sounds… Lent is here, and may it be a holy, beautiful and enriching time for everyone.

“The general opinion about this time is likely to be one of sadness, of the greyness of life. But instead it is a precious gift of God, strong and full of meaning, [...] the route to the Lord’s Easter.”

- Pope Benedict XVI, Homily for Ash Wednesday 2011

Father Wagenaar writes:

“The diocese received the request [for Mass in the Extraordinary Form] and the bishop has asked me if I would be willing to offer this Mass at certain specific times, or permit that another priest would offer Mass according to the aforementioned missal in the cathedral of St. Joseph.
“After some deliberations and consultations I agreed to give a priest the opportunity to do so.
“For the time being this will happen once a month. The first time will be the second Sunday of April, 10 April, at 18:00 hours at the cathedral of St. Joseph. We will see how much interest there is.”

Fr. Gero P. Weishaupt

Other sources inform us that the celebrating priest will be Father Dr. Gero P. Weishaupt, German-born priest of the Diocese of Roermond, Church lawyer and one-time private secretary to now-Cardinal Mauro Piacenza when the latter was President of the Pontifical Commission for the Cultural Heritage of the Church.

This is the current high point of a development that goes back more than three years. The discussions have been acknowledged by the Diocese of Groningen-Leeuwarden last year, when the vicar-general, Msgr. Leo van Ulden, called for people who desired a Mass in the Extraordinary Form to contact him. He then also said that Bishop Gerard de Korte had pointed out two churches that he deemed suitable for this Mass, among them the cathedral.

His mother Donna Joseph was escorted to the lectern, where, voice shaking, she praised her “bright son.”

“In my heart, I believe you are seated beside grandpa,” she said, referring to her father Desmond who died Dec.2.

During her second funeral in three weeks, she remembered her son as bright, caring and full of life.

Oli’s father, Obi Okoye, wearing a long black African robe, proclaimed his son “was a man at nine-years-old.”

Tears flowed in abundance as Oli’s four-year-old sister Adora walked alone past the casket.

In a grey and pink dress, tights, white socks and black mary janes, she took tiny steps.

Adora placed her beloved brother’s favourite book on a table alongside a basketball, his karate uniform, medal and ribbon, a Beyblade toy, and Oli’s baptismal candle.

His St. Brigid classmates sat in the choir section, neatly dressed in uniform.

They sang like angels.

Nine-year-old Oli drowned Dec. 21 in the swift and frigid Rideau River at Strathcona Park — just a few blocks from his family’s Sandy Hill apartment.

The boy and a friend were playing along the edge of the river when Oli somehow fell into the water. Roughly 16 minutes later, his body was pulled out about 800 metres downstream. Despite desperate attempts by firefighters and paramedics to save him, he was declared dead at CHEO less than two hours later.

At the celebration of his life, ushers handed out brightly coloured foam butterflies and hearts. Mourners wrote prayers and loving messages, which were collected in offering baskets.

Large butterflies mounted on wooden sticks Ñ created by Oli’s peers — were the focal point of the sombre ceremony.

St. Brigid’s prinicipal, Martine Mitton, was given seeds to plant at the school in Oli’s memory.

Oli’s grandma left the church using a walker.

She looked devastated.

Edmund Burke, Joseph’s cousin, travelled from Montreal to attend.

He delivered the eulogy at Oli’s grandfather’s funeral about two weeks ago.

“What a tragedy,” he said. “I didn’t want to come back to Ottawa under these circumstances. It’s surreal.”

Family friend Michaela Onwuachi, 10, said she’ll miss playing video games with Oli.

“He was shy,” she said.

“I wish them peace,” said her mom Antoinette.

kelly.roche@sunmedia.ca

http://www.ottawasun.com/news/ottawa/2010/12/29/16700626.html

What’s the reason for this Sunday obligation? Many people feels unjustly forced to go to Church when they hear these words, but it’s not as unfair or pointless as many may think. Our faith in Jesus Christ also includes an obligation to follow His commandments, at the very least because of our gratitude for His sacrifice. Surely, a God who has sacrificed Himself for us, is worth some very minor discomfort on our part? Another reason why the Sunday is a day of obligation, a day when we are required to attend Mass, to be present at the sacrifice that Christ brought, is that it is good for us.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says:

“The Sunday Eucharist is the foundation and confirmation of all Christian practice. For this reason the faithful are obliged to participate in the Eucharist on days of obligation, unless excused for a serious reason (for example, illness, the care of infants) or dispensed by their own pastor. Those who deliberately fail in this obligation commit a grave sin” (2181).

“Participation in the communal celebration of the Sunday Eucharist is a testimony of belonging and of being faithful to Christ and to his Church. The faithful give witness by this to their communion in faith and charity. Together they testify to God’s holiness and their hope of salvation. They strengthen one another under the guidance of the Holy Spirit” (2182).

Our attendance at Sunday Mass is our way of showing that we have faith in something beyond ourselves: our being part of a community of faithful, and our fidelity to Christ and His Church. At the Last Supper, Christ asked His disciples to “do this in memory of me”. He asked the priests to always make the ultimate sacrifice present on the altars again, and His followers – us – to go out of their way to be present at that sacrifice, to let it shine into their hearts and through them into the world.

A prayer service of any kind is a worthy effort. Gathering for the Lord and taking time out to speak to Him, listen to Him and praise Him builds up our relationship with Him and our fellow believers. That is why I see no problem with an evening gathering on Sunday, where we listen to God’s words and pray to Him (we may even sing). But as human beings, as God’s creatures, we are not able to rise up to meet Him. Instead, He has taken the unprecedented step to come down to us. The importance of that can not be emphasised enough. Out of His love for us, He came down to us, to live among us and take our sins, our wrongdoings, our mistakes, our disbelief, our egotism and all the things we did wrong, wilfully or not, on his shoulders. He let Himself be killed for us, He died on the cross and rose again on the third day. He did for us what we could not do ourselves, because He loves us. He defeated death and opened Heaven for us. That act, that sacrifice, is made present anew in the Eucharist.

There is therefore a very real hierarchy of worship, so to speak. Prayer, praise and singing are all very good, but Mass, the actual presence of Christ, is better. It is the best we can ever hope for in this life.

Out of the same love and care that God the Father had when He sent His only begotten Son, the Church requires of us to be present at the Holy Eucharist on the Lord’s day.

The nave of the cathedral as seen from the choir loft

Yesterday the monumental and historical buildings in the city of Groningen were open to the public, since it was National Heritage Day (although other places organise that today). Among those buildings was the cathedral of St. Joseph. I was involved in the activities as a tour guide: I conducted three 45-minute tours which were pretty well received. Not too bad for a first-timer.

The above photo does not do the attendance justice: all in we welcomed some 380 visitors which, considering that the promotional material for the Heritage Day failed to include our cathedral and its opening times, is not bad at all…

I especially enjoyed the questions and comments from non-Catholics, some of whom were surprised how close the Catholic faith is to their own Protestant Christianity. I think the ubiquitous Biblical reference sprinkled throughout the cathedral may have contributed to that: the nave, for example, features the Ten Commandments, the Creed and the Beatitudes on the walls and pillars, not to mention the Stations of the Cross and depictions from the life of Saint Joseph and the Holy Family.

The opportunity for people who were interested to go on up to the choir loft, where our titular organist Sjoerd Ruisch was playing, was also very popular. Mr. Ruisch enjoyed himself as well, having the chance to explain all about the intricacies of the century-old Maarschalkweerd organ.

Stained glass windows above the organ on the choir loft

The tour I had come up with (essentially on the day before…) was not just a tour of the building, but also a very basic introduction to the Catholic faith. That was not by accident: the appearance and history of a Catholic church is – or should be – dictated by the fact that Jesus Christ is physically present. So I didn’t just discuss architecture and local history, but also various sacraments, the Blessed Virgin and the saints, the practice of receiving Communion and much more like that.

The ten most popular posts are as follows:

1: The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary: 274
2: A gentle pope, but rock solid in the execution: 93
3: Pornography or art?: 75
4: A mosque in New York: 73
5: The double standard of death: 61
6: Priest removes 6,000 people from church: 59
7: Brick by brick in Groningen-Leeuwarden: 56
8: St Joseph cathedral turns 123 today: 55
9: The possibilities of a Dutch CNMC: 48
10: Some facts about the Turin shroud: 46

]]> http://incaelo.wordpress.com/2010/05/25/st-joseph-cathedral-turns-123-today/ Tue, 25 May 2010 12:32:13 +0000 incaelo http://incaelo.wordpress.com/2010/05/25/st-joseph-cathedral-turns-123-today/ 123 years ago today, on 25 May 1887, the church of St. Joseph was consecrated by Msgr. Pieter Snickers, the Archbishop of Utrecht. At the time, Groningen was part of his archdiocese. The church was built for the people of the then newly built Oosterpoort area of the city, where mainly working class families lived. Hence the choice of St. Joseph the Worker as patron of the church.

Over the course of the years the interior of the church developed into what we know today: stained-glass windows, rich colours and beautiful altar pieces. In 1974 the St. Joseph church became a national monument and in 1980 it became the cathedral of the Diocese of Groningen, which had been created from the Archdiocese of Utrecht in 1955. Originally, the cathedral had been the St. Martin across from the Academy building of the university – now the site of the University library - but that was ultimately sold and demolished.

The cathedral is a design by renowned architect Pierre Cuypers, also responsible for many other churches, as well as the train stations in Groningen and Amsterdam, and also the Rijksmuseum.

On the date of a church’s consecration we celebrate the fact that we not only have a physical building to celebrate the Eucharist and other sacraments in, but also that Christ established His Church for His people, and that we are part of it.

When introducing myself to him and discussing some points of the Mass, he seemed surprised that there would be servers, but pleasantly surprised, and he asked me what our duties would be. Well, just the usual ones: preparing the altar, carrying the gifts, assisting with a few other things, and also the washing of the hands before the Consecration. “Oh, I never do that”, he replied. I nearly raised an eyebrow and asked him why on earth not? I didn’t though, merely mumbled something that we do do that here, and he seemed okay with that.

Anyway, that by way of introduction, because that little occurence led me to fear that the wedding Mass that the priest would celebrate would suffer from what I call a DIY liturgy. And that fear was confirmed. The experience was rather paradoxical for me: on the one hand the liturgy bothered me, and on the other hand the clear happiness of the bride and groom and their friends and family made me happy as well.

Looking back, I can’t help but wonder what lies at the root at this urge (if it is an urge) to adapt the liturgy to your own personal preferences. In this case the Mass was valid (the priest used a proper Eucharistic prayer and so on), but the introduction of extra prayer within the Eucharistic prayer, the involvement of the congregation in the various prayers of the priest, the priest’s apparent lack of awareness of certain rituals and their meaning, and, worst of all, the invitation to everyone who felt spiritually close to the bride and groom to receive Communion, led not only to a vague service (which is what the priest consistently called it instead of Eucharist or Mass) but also allowed a number of abuses to take place. I assisted the priest in giving Communion and I am certain that a number of non-Catholics received the Body of Christ from my hands. Maybe I am responsible for that or the priest is, I don’t know, but during the celebration of Mass I tend to defer to the priest: any disagreements and questions may be raised afterwards. So I gave Communion to those who presented themselves.

The liturgy of the Mass, with all its rules and rituals, is the product of a development of centuries. It has been codified numerous times, most recently following the Second Vatican Council. That codification has a reason: it unifies the celebration of the sacraments in the entire Church and so also its members. Being people of head and heart, the rituals, gestures, visuals et cetera, serves to provide us with a more exalted worship; Mass is not like sitting down with friends and have a chin wag: it is the communion with God, which deserves, even needs its own language. In the language and gestures of the liturgy we are exalted also, and so we are enabled to meet God, despite all our human failings. If the liturgy is brought down to us, we bring God down to us (an impossibility): the opposite of what He asks from us. Liturgy is also a teaching tool: the language, gestures and rituals show us who God is, that we are able to come into His presence despite the fact that He is so far out of our reach.

DIY liturgy is a dangerous business, but paradoxically an understandable one as well. Yesterday wedding Mass was an enormously joyous occasion for everyone involved, and I don’t begrudge anyone that. But the Mass barely transcended the level of a social gathering, but the couple did consciously choose to receive the Sacrament of Matrimony. The (subconscious) need to remove God as much as possible from the picture amazes me. In words we still acknowledge Him, but that is where we draw the line. It is as if we have become people of the head only: our heart and soul is not in it.

On a late Sunday afternoon, the sun slants through the stained glass windows of the cathedral, illuminating the air where the traces of incense, used in that morning's Mass, can still be smelled. The silence is still almost tangible, shortly before the first people arrive for evening Mass. I love those moments.

The original text is in Brother Hugo’s blog here.

The clouds that Fr. Wagenaar refers to in the homily were indeed hard to miss

—————

Our Lady of the garden enclosed. THat is the chapel, the small shrine of Mary in Warfhuizen to which, after this Holy Mass, we will go in procession.

Our Lady of the garden enclosed. In Latin: hortus conclusus, a favourite topic in the late Middle Ages, in painting and on tapestries. We see Mary – because it always refers to her – in a walled garden with many flowers and near here usually stands a unicorn. Source is the Old Testament Song of Songs, where we read: “She is a garden enclosed, my sister, my promised bride; a garden enclosed, a sealed fountain” (4: 12).

That garden enclosed has always been connected to the Immaculate Conception of Mary which, as you know, means that Mary has been free of sin since her conception in the womb of her mother Anna; a premature redemption because she would , after all, carry God Himself in her womb. Spotless she had to be, a garden enclosed, a sealed fountain. Similar is an invocation in a litany of Mary from Loreto, the so-called Lauretan litany, which has been taken complete from Scripture.

Hortus conclusus – garden enclosed
Fons signatus - sealed fountain

The unicorn which is often depicted near Mary in the garden enclosed is also taken from Scripture and is mentioned in various place in the Old Testament. It seeks refuge in the lap of the Virgin and has the power to purify poisoned wells with its horn. It is connected to Christ, of course – the purity is central. Tota pulchra - o most beautiful, that is how we may understand it.

The image also has something poetic and we may emphasise that in this time: the beauty of our faith, because God is the most beautiful and that has always inspired so many artists. But poetry is not only sweet, like in the diaries of my sisters when we were children. Today too, in this lovely, blooming month of May, we may go to Mary in her enclosed garden, probably through rain and at least under dark and threatening clouds.

A sad, crying Mary she is here, for what her Son had to go through – didn’t old Simeon already foretell it to her? -, also for the many sins and the suffering in the world that is not only great elsewhere, but also when it hits us ourselves here. Who better to go to that to you Mother, our heavenly Mother, who is, unlike any other, so near to the Lord, to God Himself.

The Father also did not take away the suffering of the Son. So we must carry or cross, but with the Lord who said Himself: “Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest”, and with His Mother Mary on our side the burden will be lighter, we can handle it and we can look up to the brightly shining crown, image of the Resurrection, of victory. That is why the crying Mary is also a happy one because the joy is ultimate!

We may gather under Mary’s protection like this, now in this Mass, in a joyful walk towards her, image of the pilgrimage that is our life.

We seek refuge under your protection, Our Holy Mother of God.

Amen.

The Ascension of Christ, by Salvador Dali (1958)

This Thursday we celebrate the Ascension of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and in the Catholic Church that day counts as a Sunday. Because just like every Sunday this is a feast day which we specifically celebrate. And of course such a Sunday is more than just a day off. The Church asks us to keep the Sunday holy because of the importance of what we celebrate. That is taken directly from the Ten Commandments. How do we keep that day holy? By showing that we know what we celebrate and that we thank God for it. And we best recognise, celebrate and thank when we attend the sacrifice of Christ in the Mass. That is why there is a Sunday obligation for Ascension Day. We are expected to attend Mass that day. Not because the church has to be full, but because it is important for us, as members of the Body of Christ. Becoming aware of God’s acts is a first step towards the sanctification of our own lives.

There will not be a student Mass on Thursday. Instead you can go to the High Mass at the cathedral at 11:00. If you want to go before that, the doors of the St. Francis church, at the Zaagmuldersweg 67, are open for Mass at 9:30.

The Ascension of Christ is the conclusion of His work here on earth. Not that everything was now done and eternity was ready to begin; far from it. Things were really only starting for the Apostles. Just before ascending into heaven, Christ told them: “You will receive the power of the Holy Spirit which will come on you, and then you will be my witnesses not only in Jerusalem but throughout Judaea and Samaria, and indeed to earth’s remotest end” (Acts 1: 8). And that is exactly what happened at Pentecost, which we celebrate in almost two weeks. The Holy Spirit came over the Apostles and they become that strong witnesses of the faith who we find in the Acts of the Apostles.

The Ascension is therefore a new beginning. After the new Covenant had been established at the Ressurrection, it can now be put into practice. Jesus promises is that He will send us a helper: The Holy Spirit. We received Him ourselves at our personal Pentecost: the sacrament of Confirmation, and we can always ask the Holy Spirit to come over us anew, to guide and inspire us.

That is what the Ascension already indicates. But until Pentecost we stare up at the empty sky, with hope and faith in the promise made by two angels to the Apostles. And what a promise!

“Why are you Galileans standing here looking into the sky? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will come back in the same way as you have seen him go to heaven” (Acts 1: 11).

Father Wagenaar blesses the new fire

Both Anna Arco and Father John Boyle write that Church attendance seems to have been up this Easter. I can certainly say the same when I look back at the Easter Vigil here in Groningen. The number of baptisms and confirmations was at a steady nine this year (although Pentecost will see some more, especially confirmations), but the cathedral especially was well filled. Some people stayed at home because of the rain, but they made up for it by making Mass on the Sunday morning well-attended.  

Of course, this year Easter has been overshadowed by the crisis the Church finds herself in, a fact not ignored in the various homilies I heard. I am happy to see, though, that the media does not always succeed in its attacks on the Church or the pope (at least those that try). The letter composed by Eric van den Berg and Frank Bosman has reached over 1,000 signatures now, local parishioners interviewed outside the cathedral remained supportive of the pope and the Church, a short article in a local newspaper echoed the same, and last night Fr. Antoine Bodar offered a well-spoken defence of the pope on television. 

Of course, some media got in a huff about the fact that the pope did not mention or apologise for the abuse during his Urbi et Orbi speech. Apparently, some believe that the pope must make renewed apologies at every public appearance. But at the same time they refuse to acknowledge the apologies he and others already have made. It’s a no-win situation and one best not given too much attention.  

It’s a crazy Easter, but one that is not even close to being overwhelmed. The resurrection of Christ, His defeat of death, continues to shine brightly in our lives even if, as my bishop said, the Cross of Good Friday is still firmly present in the Church and in our hearts.  

Below are a few more impressions of the Easter Vigil at St. Joseph’s cathedral in Groningen.  

Darkness in the cathedral

A fire burns brightly

The lights in the sanctuary slowly come on as Fr. Wagenaar incenses the paschal candle

The credence table

The twelve consecration crosses are also illuminated

The elevation of the Blood of Christ

Sunrise over Wheeling, originally uploaded by © Don Iannone Photography.

St. Joseph Cathedral, Wheeling, WV

Today we walk the Stations of the Cross, the fourteen stages of Christ’s death on the Cross, from His conviction by Pontius Pilate to His burial. These fourteen stations are illustrated below. The photos are details from the station in the St. Joseph cathedral in Groningen (originally taken for a different Good Friday project for which I lacked the time, and I hope you’ll excuse the bad lighting conditions in some) and the texts are snippets from prayer sand meditations written for the Stations of the Cross at the Colosseum in Rome, written by Camillo Cardinal Ruini, which you can read in full here.

FIRST STATION – Jesus is condemned to death

“Jesus died for our sins. And on an even deeper level, he died for us, he died because God loves us and he loves us even to giving us his only Son, that we might have life through him (cf. Jn 3:16-17)”.

SECOND STATION – Jesus carries His cross

“[I]n our conscience shines the light of goodness, a light which in many cases is bright and guides us, fortunately, in our decisions. But often the opposite occurs: this light becomes obscured by resentment, by unspeakable cravings, by the perversion of our heart. And then we become cruel, capable of the worst, even of things unbelievable”.

THIRD STATION – Jesus falls for the firs time

“Jesus did not refuse physical suffering and thus he entered into solidarity with the whole human family, especially all the many people whose lives, even today, are filled with this kind of pain. As we watch him fall beneath his cross, let us humbly ask him for the courage to break open, in a solidarity which goes beyond mere words, the narrowness of our hearts”.

FOURTH STATION – Jesus meets His Mother

“Mary becomes the Mother of us all, the Mother of every man and woman for whom Jesus shed his blood. Here motherhood is a living sign of God’s love and mercy for us. Because of this, the bonds of affection and trust uniting the Christian people to Mary are deep and strong. As a result, we have recourse to her spontaneously, especially at the most difficult times of our lives”.

FIFTH STATION – Simon of Cyrene helps Jesus carry the cross

“[W]hat seemed at first to be merely a stroke of bad luck or a tragedy not infrequently is shown to be a door which opens in our lives, leading to a greater good. But it is not always like this: many times, in this world, tragedies remain simply painful failures. Here again Jesus has something to tell us: after the cross, he rose from the dead, and he rose as the firstborn among many brethren (cf. Rom 8:29; 1Cor 15:20). His cross can not be separated from his resurrection. Only by believing in the resurrection can we meaningfully advance along the way of the cross”.

SIXTH STATION – Veronica wipes the face of Jesus

“In the suffering face of Jesus we [...] see another accumulation: that of human suffering. And so Veronica’s gesture of pity becomes a challenge to us, an urgent summons. It becomes a gentle but insistent demand not to turn away but to look with our own eyes at those who suffer, whether close at hand or far away. And not merely to look, but also to help”.

SEVENTH STATION – Jesus falls for the second time

“[L]et us ask God, humbly yet confidently: Father, rich in mercy, help us not to add more weight to the cross of Jesus. In the words of Pope John Paul II, who died five years ago tonight: “the limit imposed upon evil, of which man is both perpetrator and victim, is ultimately Divine Mercy” (Memory and Identity, p. 60)”.

EIGHTH STATION – Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem

“It is Jesus who takes pity on the women of Jerusalem, and on all of us. Even as he carries the cross, Jesus remains the man who had compassion on the crowd (cf. Mk 8:2), who broke into tears before the tomb of Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:35), and who proclaimed blessed those who mourn, for they shall be comforted (cf. Mt 5:4)”.

NINTH STATION – Jesus falls for the third time

“In our efforts to identify ourselves completely with Jesus as he walks and falls beneath the cross, it is right for us to have feelings of repentance and sorrow. But stronger still should be the feeling of gratitude welling up in our hearts”.

TENTH STATION – Jesus is stripped of His garments

“As we look upon Jesus naked on the cross, we feel deep within us a compelling need to look upon our own nakedness, to stand spiritually naked before ourselves, but first of all before God and before our brothers and sisters in humanity. We need to be stripped of the pretence of appearing better than we are, and to seek to be sincere and transparent”.

ELEVENTH STATION – Jesus is nailed to the cross

“How many times, when we are tested, we think that we have been forgotten or abandoned by God. Or are even tempted to decide that God does not exist. The Son of God, who drank his bitter chalice to the dregs and then rose from the dead, tells us, instead, with his whole self, by his life and by his death, that we ought to trust in God. We can believe him”.

TWELFTH STATION – Jesus dies on the cross

“In truth, nothing is as dark and mysterious as the death of the Son of God, who with God the Father is the source and fullness of life. Yet at the same time, nothing shines so brightly, for here the glory of God shines forth, the glory of all-powerful and merciful Love”.

THIRTEENTH STATION – Jesus is taken down from the cross and placed in the arms of His Mother

“As we remember that Mary, standing at the foot of the cross, also became the mother of each one of us, we ask her to put into our hearts the feelings that unite her to Jesus. To be authentic Christians, to follow Jesus truly, we need to be bound to him with all that is within us: our minds, our will, our hearts, our daily choices great and small”.

FOURTEENTH STATION – Jesus is placed in the tomb

“Let us halt in prayer before the tomb of Jesus, asking God for the eyes of faith so that we too can become witnesses of his resurrection. Thus may the way of the cross become for us too a wellspring of life”.

The St. Joseph altar which is also the Altar of Repose where the Blessed Sacrament resides following Maundy Thursday.

The all-night vigil at the cathedral was a moderate success, I would say. The turnout immediately after Mass was quite high, but that diminished as the hours progressed of course. Still, there were nine people who watched all night, from 9:30 in the evening to 7 in the morning.

The doors of the cathedral were open until midnight, and people came trickling in and out until that time. That hasn’t happened every year. For some people it was the first time they’d experienced something like a vigil, but a few were determined to try it out, so to speak. And some were enthusiastic. The silence which almost automatically triggers reflection seems surprisingly appealing to some.

It was a long haul, though, and the hours between three and six in the morning are the worst.

Here is my schedule: 

Maundy Thursday
19:00: Mass. The last Mass before Easter, commemorating the Last Supper. It also includes the Washing of the Feet. The Blessed Sacrament is relocated to the Altar of Repose, as Jesus goes to Gethsemane and ultimately His death and resurrection.
20:30: Start of the vigil. With a friend I’ve organised this all-night vigil for the third time. We watch and pray with Christ in Gethsemane. The cathedral will be open until midnight, although anyone is welcome at any time. 

Good Friday
07:00: End of the vigil with Lauds.
15:00: Stations of the Cross. In fourteen stages we relive the journey of Christ to the Cross, from His conviction by Pontius Pilate to His burial. It’s always an emotional experience.
19:00: Serving at the Service of the Passion of the Lord at St. Francis. Not a Mass, since the Lord is not there anymore. We venerate the Cross, tool of our salvation, during this service. 

The Easter Vigil starts in darkness. The Paschal candle, carried here by my parish priest, Fr. Rolf Wagenaar, signifies the light of Christ, and slowly illuminates the entire cathedral.

Holy Saturday
20:30: Serving at Easter Vigil at St. Francis. The early vigil where several catechumens will be baptised and/or confirmed. Always special to be a part of that.
23:00: Easter Vigil at the cathedral. A long Mass, the high point of not just our liturgical year, but our entire existence: Christ is risen! The rituals and music are always fantastic. 

Easter Sunday
11:00: High Mass, offered by Bishop de Korte. Easter continues unabated and we still celebrate.
18:00: Mass for students. Which will be interesting because of a distinct lack of volunteers… But we’ll manage. 

Easter Monday
11:00: Serving at High Mass.

I took the chance to snap some photos of the interior of the cathedral today, having some extra time to spend in the afternoon. Here’s a small impression:

The sanctuary with an open tabernacle. My friend Inge had to snap some photos for a brochure about the sacrality of the church, to be handed out when there are concerts.

The great crucifix over the sanctuary

In the choir loft someone plays the organ for an otherwise empty church.

One of the many stained glass windows in the cathedral. This one shows Christ as the good shepherd.

The coats of arms of the current and previous bishops of the diocese. Johannes Knijff (1559-1576), Petrus Nierman (1956-1969), Johann Möller (1969-1999), Wim Eijk (1999-2008) and Gerard de Korte (2008-)

Fr. David van Dijk offers Mass ad orientem, the direction of Mass also used in much of the Extraordinary Form

Het Bisdomblad, the monthly magazine published on behalf of the Diocese of Groningen-Leeuwarden, features an interesting one-page article by Father Leo van Ulden ofm, the vicar general, about the Extraordinary Form of the Latin rite. Most of the piece deals with some general considerations about the form and the rituals, as well as the sense of sacrality. There are a few dubious points, mainly about the pope’s intention in allowing the Extraordinary Form to be used (it was never disallowed to begin with, really), but the interesting bit is at the end. 

Fr. van Ulden writes that the pope has asked the dioceses to offer space for people who want to celebrate Mass in this ‘somewhat unusual form’. Quoting (and translating): 

“In our diocese there are two churches open to this: the cathedral of Saint Joseph in Groningen and the parish church of Saint Martin in Sneek. Both still have the liturgical layout and atmosphere suited for a Tridentine Mass. [...] Should a reasonable number of people be interested in this form of the liturgy, they can contact the author.” 

I know that asking for ‘a reasonable’ amount of interest is in fact discouraged by Rome (numbers should play no part in offering Mass in the Extraordinary Form – a priest can in fact decide to do this without any request from his parish), but I believe that the above quote should be welcomed warmly. As far as I know it is one of the first positive steps towards implementing the motu proprio ‘Summorum Pontificum’ in our diocese, and as such comes with some practical considerations: finding a priest who can say Mass in this form, for example. 

I’d be very interested to see positive developments in this.

In my parish, Medjugorje leaflets are luckily rare. In the past there used to be adverts for pilgrimages to Medjugorje in the parish bulletin, but that seems to be suppressed by either the cathedral administrator or the diocese. In what I can only assume was a freak coincidence, a lady handing out leaflets of Medjugorje appeared in the same week that Fr. Hauke’s interview was published. I politely declined when she wanted to give one to me.

The sanctuary at the cathedral. The retable doors are closed to indicate that Lent has begun

My forehead now featuring a blackish smudge, I can say that Lent has truly begun. It feels as if Christmas was just a few weeks ago, but Lent actually isn’t particularly early this year. From now until Easter, the liturgy of the Mass will be sober. There won’t be any ‘alleluiah’ or Gloria, for example, and decorative elements are removed from the sanctuary as far as possible. All this to make the period of fasting and abstinence visible as something performed by the entire Church.

In the past, Lent used to be stricter than it is now. Now only Ash Wednesday and Good Friday (like every Friday) are days of fasting. The rest of Lent holds no obligation to fast. Personally, I believe this has contributed to a diminished awareness of what Lent (and consequently Easter) is, so I’ll have none of it. Lent is a 40-day period of fasting and abstinence, with only the Sundays as breaks (the Sunday is by definition a feast day).

Easter is the high point of the liturgical year and a period of preparation, by consciously given things up and realigning oneself to God, seems far from unreasonable. Because Easter, the salvation by Christ, is quite something. It is all that Christianity is about. We can simply not afford to let it pass virtually unnoticed.

So my forehead smudge of ashes indicates my willingness to prepare myself, to give up some creature comforts and refocus myself on God. And I’ll do my very best to live up to that.

Altar cards are used in the extraordinary form of the Mass, and contain prayers which the priest prays at various points. Would this be an indication that we would be having at the very least an ordinary form Mass ad orientem in the cathedral?

I asked Ad, the sacristan, about it afterwards, and he told me the altar cards were found in the safe in the sacristy and Fr. Wagenaar decided that they belonged on the altar instead. Of course they do, these are meant to be used, not to stored away.

But sadly, placement on the altar was to be their only intended use. No ad orientem Masses, let alone extraordinary form, at the cathedral. Not yet at least, for I remain optimistic.

I later heard the cards were back in the safe, since they blocked the tabernacle. In a way, that’s better, I think. If they are not going to be used, then why bring them out?

The front of the cathedral, snowblasted during the night.  

The combination of snow, wind and freezing temperatures made being outside a chore this morning. The attendance at Mass was subsequently lower than usual and the walk towards the cathedral something like an obstacle course. Still, it was very much doable, although I wouldn’t want to have been outside the city, where motorways saw moving snowdunes and stalled cars. Decidedly un-Dutch circumstances.  

NASA’s Terra sattellite shows that december really was colder in the northern hemisphere than usual, compared to the average temperatures between 2000 and 2008. The culprit is apparently something called the Arctic Oscillation. That has to do with the pressure difference between the mid-latitudes (temperate areas such as southern Canada and central Europe) and the Arctic which is smaller than usual, allowing cold air to creep southward and warmer air north.  

The image also counters the thoughtless suggestion that one cold winter proves that there is no global climate change: the Greenland ice cap is quite a lot warmer than normal. Fun things may ensue if that melts.  

NASA Earth Observatory image by Kevin Ward, based on data provided by the NASA Earth Observations (NEO) Project.

1. There are very limited English signboard in Hanoi. So be prepare to
ask around and not everyone speak English too.
2. Uncountable and unstoppable motorcycles on the road. If you want to
cross just walk as usual to opposite. The motorcyclist will avoid you.
Pedestrian rule! But don;t make eye contact or look at the
motorcyclist, it will make them confuse!
3. Hardly see any music store or anyone listening radio. My ride to
Halong Bay and Perfume Pagoda was on a silent tour bus.
4. TV feature most of the International channels, just like our Astro,
but this one is totally FREE!
5. No need to bargain hard because Hanoi seller will sell you standard
price same as they offer to local. (You can try to bargain if you
speak good in Viet)
6. There is a famous fruit milk shake located near Water Puppet
theater. Make sure you have a glass to complete your Hanoi tour.
7. Water Puppet show is so unique and special. The ticket is just
VND40,000 (RM8). Brilliant and bravo!
8. Be at Hoan Kiem to catch some romantics moments.
9. Every street in Old Quarter is selling specific products.It is very
convenience to do shopping.
10. Most buildings in Hanoi are slim and tall.
11. There is no really a pagoda in Perfume Pagoda.
12. In weekend you wouldn’t to miss Dong Xuan night market.
13. Ask for price before you buy. My friend bought few bananas for RM8
while a bicycle woman approach him outside the bus.
14. The local brew beer only cost VND3000 (RM0.60). Cheaper than water!
15. The wires hanging around city is art. The cable guy does amazing
stuff to manage it.

Ask for more pictures

Hoan Kim Library

Yen Vi River – journey to Perfume Pagoda

St Joseph’s Cathedral

No idea about this temple name but it is super nice! It is located before Thien Tru Temple.

Perfume mountains

Jetty at Chua Huong

Heading back to My Duc town on Yen Vi river