A Different Kind of Holy Week

It’s one kind of sadness when you’re forced to forego Mass for a few weeks...

But it takes things to another level when you can’t enter into the high point of the Christian year—Holy Week and Easter—except via live streaming. (Of course, in this sense we still have it better than those without technology who don’t have a priest within miles except a few times a year, or those who can only worship together at the risk of their lives.) 

As I’m sure you’ve realized during this time of quarantine, being deprived of something is often what makes us appreciate and long for it even more. At one point, when my folks first moved into an old house that needed major work, they had no kitchen, no central heating and no hot water downstairs. To wash dishes, they’d have to bring hot water down from the bathroom upstairs.

Dishes were washed either outside or in the bathroom sink. They cooked outside the back door on a Coleman stove. Not only that, but the heat consisted solely in space heaters and the fireplace. Hence, after visiting them at Christmas their first year in that house, I was all the more appreciative of returning to my small and simple—but warm, cozy, heated-dwelling, with hot, running water.

All of this makes me wonder if perhaps the instant gratification that we’ve been used to has sapped us of the longing and anticipation that comes with waiting. Being single, I think I must rank among the world’s experts at waiting—but perhaps I’m waiting the wrong way. Am I waiting in a receptive attitude of surrender to God—or with a demanding impatience with the seeming inconvenience of God’s timing?

In the Byzantine Church, Holy Week is known as the “Week of the Bridegroom."

This is because it is when Christ the Bridegroom comes to wed his Bride, the Church. Christ, in the hour of His Passion, is portrayed suffering and crowned with thorns in the Bridegroom icon. While we know that Christ died to save us—do we often think of the fact that He died to marry us?

This might sound like a bit much—but in fact, the marital theme is deeply rooted in Scripture and the Church Fathers. Salvation history begins and ends with marriage—the creation of Adam and Eve and the call to the “one-flesh union” in the beginning (Genesis) and the “marriage feast of the Lamb” at the end (Revelation). In the center of that reality is the mind-blowing fact that it was through one act of self-gift that Christ both wed us and saved us.

St. Augustine says that “like a bridegroom Christ went forth from his nuptial chamber... He came even to the marriage-bed of the cross, and there, ascending it, he consummated a marriage..."

Augustine, Sermo Suppositus, 120:3, cited in Brant Pitre, Jesus the Bridegroom, 93

What does that mean that Jesus married us? Put simply—God’s eternal plan is to unite us to himself, and Christ reunites God and man through his death on the Cross.

Now, through the Sacraments, He reunites each one of us with Himself.

St. John Chrysostom explains that the blood and water which flowed from Christ’s side symbolize Baptism and the Eucharist, and therefore “it was from his side that Christ fashioned the Church, as he had fashioned Eve from the side of Adam.” (Second reading from the Office of Readings for Good Friday, in The Liturgy of the Hours According to the Roman Rite, Vol. 2)

It might seem strange to think of God as wanting to “marry” us, because we project our (sometimes messed-up) conception of marriage onto God—but it’s actually the other way around. God’s love is the ultimate, foundational reality, and our limited human experience of it is a mere (albeit, beautiful) reflection of it.

As Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis puts it: "the Kingdom of Heaven is not only like a marriage feast, but actually is the Marriage Feast from which every earthly marriage feast within time derives both name and meaning."

Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis, Fire of Mercy, Heart of the Word: Meditations on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew, Vol. 3, 770

During Holy Week, the Byzantine Church recalls the parable of the ten bridesmaids—five of whom were wise and were prepared for the arrival of the Bridegroom, and five of whom were foolish, and were not—and unfortunately missed the wedding feast!

"The oil of the foolish virgins’ devotion runs out because they have not … surrendered their entire being to the one they claim to love so much … They have not imagined that fidelity to the Beloved would keep them watching into the heart of the night… because God operates according to his own timetable."

Leiva-Merikakis, Fire of Mercy, Heart of the Word, 791

During the Bridegroom Matins (Morning Prayer) service we’re reminded to be like the wise bridesmaids:

“O faithful let us be on fire with love for the Bridegroom and with lamps burning let us go out to meet him.”

This beautiful imagery reminds us of what the ultimate goal of Holy Week—and of life—is:

Resurrection and the heavenly marriage banquet. But to get there we must pass through the Cross. 

I usually begin Lent with great hopes of what I will accomplish and how I will become a better person. While I mostly feel like a failure by the end of Lent, that’s probably a good thing—because it reminds me that progress is only possible through total dependence and reliance on Him, not my own efforts. It’s only through being united to Him and his sufferings that my own sufferings can become both meaningful and fruitful. 

David Brooks reminds us:  "Suffering teaches us gratitude. Normally we take love and friendship for granted…Suffering puts you in solidarity with others who suffer. It makes you more sympathetic to those who share this or some other sort of pain. In this way it tenderizes the heart. Suffering calls for a response. None of us can avoid suffering, but we can all choose how we respond to it… Finally, suffering shatters the illusion of self-sufficiency…"

David Brooks, The Second Mountain, 37

So how does this all apply to us this year?

Practically speaking, perhaps we can combine the themes of Holy Week and the current quarantine situation and approach this Holy Week and Triduum with the following focus: 

• the attitude of receptivity and surrender to Christ the Bridegroom and the desire to keep him company in his sufferings. After all, he was abandoned by his disciples and suffered alone. May we unite our current solitude with His and keep company those who are suffering and dying alone with our prayers.

• the attitude of gratitude and appreciation for what He has suffered for us—for the total gift of His life—but also for all the many gifts we often take for granted. As we look forward to celebrating again with the people we love in person, let us also pray for those who are giving so much of themselves and risking their lives in the medical field and in many other ways.

• the attitude of patience and perseverance as we trust God for His timing. It must have been excruciatingly hard for Our Lady to await the Resurrection. Let us pray for those who have lost loved ones during this time—for their consolation.

Through all this we look forward not only to this year’s celebration of Easter, but to the final Resurrection, to the Kingdom.

Also more immediately, to the day that we can again participate in the Marriage Feast of Lamb on earth by celebrating the Eucharist, and experience just a little taste of heaven by being together in one room with family and friends.

On Easter, even if we can’t celebrate the same way we usually do, may we joyfully greet our Bridegroom, gloriously risen!  

“Bearing torches let us meet the bridegroom, Christ, as He comes forth from His tomb...as from a bridal chamber.” (Matins of Pascha, Ode 5)

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To experience Byzantine Holy Week, including Bridegroom Matins, visit Annunciation Byzantine Catholic Church online for their streaming services. And while nothing can replace being with others in person, if you are looking for discussion and community during this time of quarantine, check out the GS 24 online study groups!