Holy "Help Me, God" Week

In ministry, it’s easy to get lost in the details and miss the reasons we serve. Lorraine Hess found a way out this Holy Week.

If you’ve ever attended the Easter Triduum, you have seen the holiest of celebrations complete with all the bells and smells of ritual Catholicism. The entire week, launched by the Passion of Christ on Palm Sunday, is a celebration of the greatest act of love known to humankind.

For a music ministry director like me, it is the busiest week of the year. In addition to the mega rehearsal with the choirs to prepare for Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil, and Easter Sunday, I also attend three walk-through rehearsals with the altar servers and clergy for each of the Triduum services. We also set up sound in the gym for the overflow Easter Sunday masses. I practically live at church that week!

I love Holy Week with all my heart, but the Monday after Easter can sometimes feel like a music hangover. Sometimes I wonder if Jesus intended for our rituals to become so complicated, but I know we are united throughout the world with these same liturgical traditions, so I enjoy the pomp and circumstance that has evolved over the centuries. It feels like home, even if it wears me out!

The Distractions of Serving Can Make Us Miss the Holy

This is not a plea for sympathy; God gave me a musical gift to serve in this way, and I have done it without regret for more than twenty years. I love my job, but every year, before Holy Week, I pray, “Lord, please don’t let me miss it.” I desperately want to be spiritually present for all of it. I am there physically, but in the minutia of the details, it is easy to lose focus of the beauty of Holy Week. Often, music ministers spend so much time serving God, we can easily neglect spending time with God. I am no exception. My thoughts wander to, “Did I submit payroll for the violinist?” “Did the sacristan put the worship aids in the gym?” And the list goes on.

From your perspective in the pews, everything should appear seamless, and it should flow with a rhythm that draws you into the Paschal Mystery with all its splendor. From the viewpoint of the music minister who is following a 20-page script and leading a choir of volunteers, I sometimes feel like an outsider doing my best to ensure everyone else’s experience is perfect. You may feel the same way in all your Christmas preparations: shopping, wrapping, and baking.

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Determined to Be Present As I Served

Last year, I was determined to be present for all of it. I organized “The Seven Last Words of Christ” on the Monday of Holy Week. This was a night of music, reflections, and Scripture taking the seven last phrases of Jesus and presenting them with such beauty that one cannot help but feel the love of Christ through His suffering. As a contemplative pray-er, I know I need to place myself at the foot of the cross to experience the sacrifice.

Of course, this event was going to be additional work, but I made sure the program was less than an hour and I solicited my A-Team of musicians, singers, and readers for minimal rehearsal. The reflections were based on Archbishop Fulton Sheen’s book, The Seven Last Words. Totally worth the read!

We had not done this at my church since I took the job, but it had been on my bucket list for years. I had no idea how many parishioners would attend. To my delight, more than 350 people showed up … on a Monday night! Everyone was dressed casually (including myself) hungry for a sincere way to make Holy Week holy. The lights were dimmed; the musicians (dressed in black) truly prayed the music; and the readers proclaimed the holy words of Jesus as though they had been eyewitnesses. There was an undeniable presence that night as the Scriptures, reflections, and music ebbed and flowed from word to word feeding the people (and me) with immeasurable love.

I completely let go of control, having complete trust in all who had volunteered to read, sing, and play. It was one of the most intimate nights of Holy Week I had ever experienced, and it prepared my heart completely for the Triduum. At one point, I looked over at my pastor, and he was totally absorbed in the moment, eyes closed, heart open. I wondered if his prayer that week had also been, “Lord, please don’t let me miss it.” He clearly was not missing it, and neither did I this year.

Later that week, the whole Triduum was joy. I shed tears during the foot washing, and I could feel my heart swell as the new Catholics receive the Eucharist for the first time. I don’t remember any choir blunders because it didn’t matter.

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