Originally published in the Catholic Times, vol 62:27
Rituals are important, my friend said as we gathered around the dinner table on Holy Thursday evening. The four of us read prayers together, broke bread, shared wine, and then poured water from a ceramic vase over each others hands, praying a blessing as we did. Later we joined with others in our parish to celebrate the Mass that began the Easter Triduum, three days packed with liturgical ritual.
As the Easter season continues, I find myself pondering ritual in life outside church sanctuaries as well as within them. My friend is right. Rituals are important. They provide tangible symbols of realities we cannot see or touch, but experience interiorly. They provide a link to people or places that are part of our history. They help us step out of routine and focus on truths that guide our lives. They help us remember the Holy Presence in which we live.
I arrived at my friends home that evening and noticed the small ceramic plate and cup, pitcher and bowl that shared the tables center with a vase of daffodils and palm fronds. I had eaten dinner with them on other Holy Thursdays but had forgotten about the ritual until that moment. Holding the bread, touching the cup slowed me down. I just met the woman sitting at my left, what could I say in blessing? I didnt know her work, her gifts. She had recently moved.
But I held the pitcher. Focus. God blesses. I just pour the water. So, I prayed what I knew was true: May the work you are called to do here become clear. May the Holy One bring fruit from your efforts. May you find joy and life in your new home.
Rituals help us remember that the Sacred resides in our every day lives. Actually, that they are entwined and inseparable. It may seem otherwise. It may seem that the really important rituals happen mostly in churches. Not so.
Coming on the heels of Easter, the funeral of a friend reminded me of that. We gathered for the funeral Mass. We also gathered at the wake and after the burial, at the family home. There was a photograph and strands of pearls exchanged when the two were young. Generations mingled, stories were told, food shared. Rituals. Connections. Resurrection. Communion of Saints. Love transcends time and space.
I have another friend who reads Frances Hogdson Burnnetts Secret Garden every Lent. Holding the book each day is her ritual of preparation to receive the graces of Easter. Do you have spring rituals? Planting bulbs. Turning soil in garden spaces. Hanging bird feeders. Switching heavy winter coats for lighter summer jackets.
Rituals are mindfully done. If you remember as you hold the blub in your hand or push the shovel into newly softened earth that life and abundance come from the Creator. If you give thanks for the turning of seasons and remember that we are part of a solar system that spins through space. If you allow these yearly activities to be moments of recognition of the Sacred in our midst, then they are holy rituals.
I start my days by lighting a candle, singing a song I remember from childhood, Come Holy Ghost, and sit for a bit with Scripture. Sometimes I pray well. More often I spend the time trying to return from thoughts about the days schedule, what I might do tomorrow, or wish I hadnt done yesterday. I dont think God minds. Im giving quiet prayer a shot. Its my ritual. It connects. Reminds. Focuses.
Rituals provide moments of intentionality, giving our bodies something to touch and our souls space to expand. They are portals leading into scared space within. Easter liturgies remind us of their power and provide opportunity for us to participate in them together. But there are other rituals, some we share with others, some of our own making, that call us to reverence the gift of Gods Life we celebrate.
© 2013 Mary van Balen | PHOTO BY: Mary van Balen
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