Maybe it sneaks up on me every year because this Sunday is known by a variety of names. The Latin word Laetare refers to the opening phrase used in the Introit, Laetare Jerusalem, which means “O be joyful, Jerusalem.” The purpose of this Sunday is to give hope to all those crazed chocolate lovers who haven’t had a Hershey’s bar in three weeks. We’re halfway through the season, there’s still hope! In traditional parishes, this would be the week where organ playing is allowed and flowers can adorn the altar. In some parishes though it probably just means a chorus of snickering as everyone notices that the pastor is wearing pink.

The reason for these special vestments (rose, not pink) is partly to set the joyful Sunday apart from the rest of Lent. It’s similar to Gaudate Sunday in Advent when you light the pink (yes, pink, not rose) candle. The other part explaining the rose vestments stretches back nearly a thousand years to Falcone of the Court of Angers. We [Google] don’t know what he did but Pope Urban II saw fit to honor him with a rose as a sign of Falcone’s apparent friendship to and support of the Chair of St. Peter. For hundreds of years, friends of Rome would receive recognition of their fealty in the sign of a rose. This tradition was ceremonialized during the Avignon papacy as it became common for the pope to bless an artisan-made golden rose on Laetare Sunday and award it to a worthy beneficiary in Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, one of the Seven Churches of Rome. The tradition of the Golden Rose exists today, but it has not been awarded to a person since Pius XII honored Charlotte, Grand Duchess of Luxembourg with it in 1956. Today it is only given to great shrines. The Shrine of Our Lady of Knock has one and so does the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.

Laetare Sunday also is sometimes referred to as the Sunday of the Five Loaves. In the Pre Vatican II 1962 Missal, the passage about the miracle of sharing was read, only back then it was still the miracle of multiplication. Now it’s irrelevant because in our three-cycle liturgical system we no longer read about the Five Loaves on Laetare Sunday. 2010 being Cycle C we hear the story of the prodigal son (or the prodigal father, as I once heard it explained). Cycle B calls for the reading of the WWF verse, John 3:16. Next year, as the cycles reset we’ll hear a sermon on the curing of the blind man from John 9.

In Europe Laetare Sunday is similar to Mother’s Day and so it is known as Mothering Sunday. The Epistle from Galatians calls Jerusalem the mother of us all and this Sunday all mothers, the Blessed Virgin Mary and especially “mother church” are honored. People frequently try to attend Mass at the nearest cathedral, their mother church. It is also the only Sunday in some European parishes when people can get married during Lent.

Lastly, this mid-Lenten Sunday has been known as Refreshment Sunday. For people who have been maintaining the strict fast, this is a day when you can ease up slightly, but there are no donuts downstairs today so it isn’t going to happen right after Mass. I’m fairly certain that this term is no longer used anymore because encouraging you to ease up on your Xbox fast is not a prime directive within the Church. They’re fairly certain you’ll find a way to survive. But the word is still out on whether or not my congregation will survive this unexpected Sunday of joy wrapped in a mantle of suffering. I still have three more songs to play.

Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy and Immortal, have mercy on us.

Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy and Immortal, Have mercy on us.

Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy and Immortal, Have mercy on us.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, both now and ever and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Holy and Immortal, have mercy on us.

Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy and Immortal, Have mercy on us.

Movement 2 – Crossing Oneself

Up, down, right, left, and a small bow. We cross ourselves often. In fact we make the Sign of the Cross whenever any of these things happen.

1. When the Trinity is mentioned.
   
2. When the Theotokos (Virgin Mary) or any other saint is mentioned.
3. When a priest or deacon says “Let us beseech the Lord!”
4. When the altar curtain is closed. The altar for us is not the table itself but everything beyond the icon screen (iconostasis).
5. When during the litany a prayer really touches you.

You can imagine how many times we cross ourselves. A lot.


Movement 3 – The Bow

Sometimes you are being blessed. When that happens you don’t bless back or cross yourself. Take the gift that has been given to you and bow accordingly. Is the censer being cast in your direction? Bow. Is the priest or bishop blessing you (deacons don’t bless) with the sign of the cross? Bow.


Movement 4 – The Full Prostration

There is no kneeling during the Divine Liturgy on Sundays nor during Paschal-tide. While done on other occasions the most notable time to see a full prostration is during the Great Fast (Lent). Make the sign of the cross, get down on your knees, place your hands in front of you, put your forehead to the ground, and then get back up again. During a very moving ceremony called the Great Canon of Repentance this practice is done over and over for many hours. While physically demanding the beauty of the canon in its imagery and subject matter is unquestioned. Some families will also choose to break up the canon into bite-sized portions at home during the Lenten season.

Movement 5 – “Taste and see that the Lord is Good!”

The line for reception of the Holy Eucharist is often rather long, but goes quickly. Extraordinary ministers are frowned upon. As a result it is often the priest and deacon who distribute the Eucharist. Stand up, cross your arms in front of you (in the same way many Western Christians would do when asking for a blessing instead of the Eucharist) and walk up towards the altar. “Wait… that child can’t be more than 4 months old! What is he doing?!” In the Byzantine tradition we Baptize and Chrismate (Confirm) our children at the same time. They are immediately allowed to receive. It’s ok – keep walking. Watch the person in front of you. The head goes back and the mouth is opened wide (No tongue outstretched, please.) and a spoon drops the Body and Blood in her mouth. She walks away and now it’s your turn. You’ve got this figured out.

‘What’s your name?’ says the priest to you.

‘Er… Thomas.’ you say quizzically.

He places the Eucharist in your mouth saying, ‘Thomas, taste and see that the Lord is good.’

Saying your name is quite important and visitors will often be asked their name in this fashion – the priest does not have non-Byzantine X-ray vision, don’t worry! It’s important not to cross yourself after receiving as the priest is holding a heavy chalice that can easily be jostled by an accidental touch.

Movement 6 – Father, bless!

“I’m tired, but I must go talk to the priest and tell him how beautiful that was!” We don’t shake hands with our priests. Instead, we ask for a blessing. Put your right palm over your left and say ‘Father, Bless.’ or if you are meeting a bishop say, ‘Master, bless.’ He will put his hand up thumb to “ring finger” and makes the Sign of the Cross while intoning a blessing. He’ll then put his hand on yours and you kiss it. That’s it. Quite beautiful, no?

Guest post from Byzantine, TX

The baby being baptized is often accompanied by his or her uninterested and impatient parents, who are eagerly awaiting the celebration to end so they can get home and get the chicken on the grill going for the real celebration, and proud grandparents who are forcing their son and daughter in-law (or vise versa) to get their child baptized so the kid doesn’t go to Hell. The parents, particularly the mother, would have preferred a more intimate private ceremony with friends and close family, performed in the back of the church, under dim lights, without people they don’t know, without music, without all the fuss of the mass, and at a time that is more convenient – perhaps on a day that isn’t cutting into their Sunday family time.

The baptismal ceremony is concluded when the father of the baptized gives the celebrating priest an envelope stuffed with cash as payment for the priest’s services. There after, the parish only sees this family on Christmas and Easter until the child is ready to make his or her first communion.

Though this might be the reality experienced in some Catholic Churches, it hardly echoes the reality of what happens at baptism and what baptism is. Baptism is the sacrament that enters the believer as a member into the mystical Body of Christ. It is the gateway to life that gives the Christian access to the other sacraments. The sacrament is not just about washing away original sin, but it is also about restoring the relationship between the believer, God through Christ, and fellow humanity that cannot be restored by any other means. Baptism is not just about life, but it is also about death as it is through baptism that the Christian enters into communion with Christ’s death and resurrection: the believer dies and goes down into the tomb and rises as a new creation in Christ. “The Baptized have ‘put on Christ.’”

It is true that the sacrament happens to a person; however, the sacrament is not solely for the individual. Every sacrament is for the edification of the entire body of Christ. So as it is a person that is baptized it is the faith of the community that is renewed when they are allowed to participate and experience the celebration. It allows the community of Christ to remember and recall the new life that was given them through baptism into Christ.

Further, the sacrament is cosmological. If the Christian could see what was truly happening in the baptismal font during the sacrament, one would be more advised to don a crash helmet than a baptismal garment. For in the font is the place in the cosmos where God’s love crosses the infinite boundary of death in order to recreate life. In other words, baptism is dangerous.

Lastly, though it is natural water that is used in the exercise of baptism, it is water that one must never dry off from. Never dry off from the waters of baptism.

If you are not Catholic and attend mass for the first time, you may have a hard time telling the difference between the priest and the lay people. This is because the lay people are generally in prominent positions in front of the church, facing the people. They are in and around the altar, and have numerous speaking and singing parts during the mass. Many times they are distributing communion, as well. Here is a hint if you get confused: the priest wears a long, flowing robe. Lay men wear pants; lay women wear whatever they want. That tip should help you.

Some laypeople have a fondness for guitars, banjos, bongos, tambourines, drums, etc. This gives them the chance to display their musical skills. Other laypeople have pretty voices and enjoy singing. They probably hope this will make up for all the other laypeople who aren’t singing. Laypeople like to choose songs that use the pronoun “I.” It gives them the chance to play God’s part during a song. They get to be the Bread of Life, they get to raise everyone up on the last day, etc. Laypeople want you to be able to play God, too. Despite this tremendous opportunity, most laypeople in the pews still choose not to sing very loud, if at all. Perhaps the pewsitters are embarrassed at their comparable lack of talent.

Still other laypeople use their considerable talents to distribute communion to parishioners. Laypeople like affirmation, so if you see one after church, be sure to tell her what a great job she did. Don’t be scared. A layperson will not immediately warm up to you or try to get you to be Catholic. This type of thing generally makes a layperson uncomfortable. Laypeople believe that “evangelizing” should be left to Protestants.

It is important for you to realize that all lay people are equal, but some are more equal than others. Although laypeople look, by and large, pretty much the same, some lay people wield special power. For example, if a parish priest used to give homilies (another word for sermon) on issues such as abortion, divorce or birth control at a church – and doesn’t anymore – well you can be sure one of these laypeople exerted his special power on him. Laypeople generally do not like homilies that deal with tough subjects like Hell or sin. That kind of stuff is for Protestants. Laypeople with the most special power usually 1) have a great deal of money 2) make their opinions known, often and 3) are very active in the church. If they have a problem with Magesterial teaching, that is usually a plus.

For some Catholics, other laypeople can be a real trial. Besides their desire for affirmation and need to participate, they can do some pretty irritating things. Laypeople sometimes like to bring their 11 and 12-year-olds into the cry room when they can’t get them to be quiet during mass. Laypeople will talk to each other and answer their cellphones during mass. Some laypeople have been known to eat Cheez-Itz, chew gum and drink cokes during mass (but respectfully put all these things away once communion starts) Whatever you do, do not complain to the office about these laypeople. The people in the office will always take the other group’s side. After all, no one likes a tattletale.

Other laypeople –generally pewsitters and people who spend a lot of time kneeling in prayers — will glare at you if you cough or if your baby cries. These types of laypeople are very holy and do not want their holy time disrupted. These types of laypeople have also been known to give the priest tips on how to improve his homily or bring more reverence to the mass. The best way to deal with these laypeople is to be very quiet and not make eye-contact.

In extreme cases, laypeople have actually caused other laypeople to leave the Church. However, for most faithful Catholics, leaving is not an option. Starting a blog and complaining about it is, however.

If you aren’t Catholic and happen to wander into a typical parish you will probably be a little confused. You may assume that people go to church to worship God. You might also assume that everything that is done during a service has to do with worshiping God. You would then be very confused to see that Catholics like clapping for some really stupid stuff at Mass.

The hospitality ministry just made an announcement about the upcoming blood drive? Let’s all clap. Father said something about getting home before the football game? Let’s all clap.

The choir just finished the final hymn and you finally think that clapping makes sense because the rain-stick holding “musician” in the back couldn’t keep time with the out of tune piano which did a horrible job holding together the train wreck of an attempt at harmony from two people who would have been strangled with glee club bow ties back in high school had they auditioned and YOU ARE SO THANKFUL THAT IT’S OVER THAT IF YOU WEREN’T ALREADY STANDING, YOU WOULD GIVE THEM A STANDING OVATION FOR QUITTING. Then you realize that the congregation is clapping in appreciation of the choir and you almost brain yourself with a tambourine because these people either have musical taste worse than a bar on karaoke night or they are even greater fans of the affirmation mentality than Barney the dinosaur.

But what about those times when the choir, and it is almost always the choir, actually sings something that outside of church would deserve a standing ovation? Again, if you aren’t Catholic you probably would be asking yourself why people applaud how great a job they did worshiping God. And if you were to take the flautist’s flute and shove it through a guitar before stomping out of the church, I couldn’t really blame you. Clap-happy congregants don’t make any sense to me either.

The only one who has any business applauding is God and I have yet to hear that He has ever done so, at least not before the end when He might say, “Well done, ye good and faithful servant,” but I am pretty sure there is no documented time He said it to a liturgical kazoo player.