That was how a priest at my parish opened mass this morning, and we all knew exactly what he meant. This is what it looked like from the front door of the church at 1:15, Easter Sunday:
Standing room only at all the masses, lots of unfamiliar faces, a few colorful hats. A couple people who had been baptized the night before came again on Sunday, which always touches me. They just can’t stay away.
The altar servers have developed a new spin on using the thurible: swinging it 360 degrees. When you see two of these guys doing it, in perfect sync, during the “Hallelujah” Chorus, it’s literally breathtaking. Witnessing that spectacle, a couple elderly women had their eyebrows arched in perpetual astonishment, their mouths forming a silent “Wow.”
After four days, nine liturgies, the Seven Last Words, one Exultet, one long rehearsal, one Ephphatha rite, one last minute homily (the Easter Vigil assignment came up at 9:30 Friday night) and a few hundred communions distributed (out of several thousand for the weekend), I can only say this: I’m just grateful to be able to sit down and take off my shoes.
He has been raised. And now I’m taking a nap. Happy Easter, all.