04/15/2022
EXPLANATION OF THE RITES OF HOLY WEEK – FROM DOM PROSPER GUERANGER’S LITURGICAL YEAR
GOOD FRIDAY
The sun has risen upon Jerusalem. But the priests and scribes have not waited all this time without venting their rage upon Jesus. Annas, who was the first to receive the divine Captive, has had Him taken to his son-in-law Caiaphas, the high priest. Here He is put through a series of insulting questions, which disdaining to answer, He receives a blow from one of the high priest’s servants. False witnesses have already been prepared: they now come forward, and depose their lies against Him who is the very Truth: but their testimony is contradictory. Then Caiaphas, seeing that this plan for convicting Jesus of blasphemy is only serving to expose his accomplices, turns to another. He asks Him a question, which will oblige our Lord to make an answer; and in this answer he, Caiaphas, will discover blasphemy, and blasphemy will bring Jesus under the power of the Synagogue. This is the question: “I adjure you, by the living God, that you should tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God!” (Mt 26,63) Our Savior, in order to teach us that we should show respect to those who are in authority, breaks the silence He has hitherto observed, and answers: “You have said it: I am: and hereafter you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the power of god, and coming on the clouds of heaven” (Mt, 26,64; Mk 14,62). Hereupon, the impious pontiff rises, rends his garments, and exclaims: “He has blasphemed! What further need have we of witnesses? Behold, now you have heard the blasphemy: what do you think?” The whole place resounded with the cry: “he is guilty of death” (Mt 26,65-66).
The Son of God has come down upon the earth in order to restore man to life; and yet, here we have this creature of death daring to summon his divine Benefactor before a human tribunal, and condemning Him to death! And Jesus is silent, and bears with these presumptuous, these ungrateful, blasphemers. Well may we exclaim, in the words wherewith the Greek Church frequently interrupts today’s reading of the Passion: “Glory be to thy patience, Lord!”
Scarcely have the terrible words, “He is guilty of death” been uttered, than the servants of the high priest rush upon Jesus. They spit upon Him, and blindfolding Him, they strike Him, saying, “prophesy: who is it that struck you?” (Lk 22,64) Thus does the Synagogue treat the Messiah, who, they say, is to be their glory. And yet, these outrages, frightful as they are, are but the beginning of what our Redeemer has to go through.
But there is something far more trying than all this to the heart of Jesus, and it is happening at this very time. Peter has made his way as far as the court of the high priest’s palace. He is recognized by the bystanders as a Galilean, and one of Jesus’ disciples. The apostle trembles for his life; he denies his Master, and affirms with an oath that he does not even know Him. what a sad example is here of the punishment of presumption! But Jesus has mercy on His apostle. The servants of the high priest lead Him near to the place where Peter is standing; He casts upon him a look of reproach and pardon; Peter immediately goes forth, and weeps bitterly. From this hour forward he can do nothing but lament his sin; and it is only on Easter morning, when Jesus shall appear to him after His Resurrection, that he will admit any consolation to his afflicted heart. Let us make him our model, now that we are spending these hours, with our holy mother the Church, in contemplating the Passion of Jesus. Peter withdraws, because he fears his own weakness; let us remain to the end, for what have we to fear? May our Jesus give us one of those looks, which can change the hardest and worst of hearts!
Meanwhile, the day-break dawns on the city, and the chief priests make arrangements for taking Jesus before the Roman governor. They themselves have found Him guilty; they have condemned Him as a blasphemer, and according to the Law of Moses, a blasphemer must be stoned to death. But they cannot apply the law: Jerusalem is no longer free, or governed by her own laws. The power over life and dearth may be exercised only by her conquerors, and that in the name of Caesar. How is it that these priests and scribes can go through all this, and never once remember the prophecy of Jacob, that the Messiah would come when the scepter should be taken away from Judah (Gn 49.10)? They know off by heart, they are the appointed guardians of, those prophecies, which describe the death to which this Messiah is to be put; and yet, they are the very ones who bring it about! How is all this? They are blind; and it is jealousy that blinds them.
The rumor of Jesus’ having been seized during the night, and that He is on the point of being led before the Roman governor, rapidly spreads through the city, and reaches Judas’ ears. This wretched man had a passion for money, but there was nothing to make him desire the death of his divine Master. He knew Jesus’ supernatural power. He perhaps flattered himself that He, who could command nature and the elements, would easily escape from the hands of His enemies. But now when he sees that He does not escape, and that He is to be condemned to death, he runs to the temple, gives back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests. Is it that he is converted, and about to ask his Master to pardon him? Alas, no! Despair has taken possession of him, and he puts an end to his existence. The recollection of all the merciful solicitations made to him, yesterday, by Jesus, both during the last Supper and in the garden, gives him no confidence; it only serves to increase his despair. Surely, he knew well what a merciful Savior he had to deal with! And yet, he despairs, and at the very time when the Blood, which washes away the sins of the whole world is about to be shed! He is lost, because he despaired.
The chief priests, taking Jesus with them, present themselves at the governor’s palace, demanding audience for a case of importance. Pilate comes forward and peevishly asks them: “What accusation bring you against this Man?” They answer: “If He were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered Him up to you.” It is very evident, from these first words, that Pilate has a contempt for these Jewish priests; it is not less evident that they are determined to gain their cause. “You take Him,” says Pilate, “and judge Him according to your Law.” The chief priests answer: “It is not lawful for us to put any man to death” (Jn 18,29-31).
Pilate leaves the hall, in order to talk with these men. He returns, and commands Jesus to be brought in. The Son of God and the representative of the pagan world are face to face. Pilate begins by asking Him :”Are you the King of the Jews?” To this Jesus thus replies: “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would certainly strive that I should not be delivered to the Jews. “ “Are you a king, then?” says Pilate. “You say,” answers Jesus, “that I am a King.” Having said these last words, confessed His august dignity, our Lord offers a grace to this Roman: He tells him that there is something worthier of man’s ambitions than earthly honors. “For this,” says Jesus, “I was born, and for this I came into the world: that I should give testimony to the truth. Everyone that is of the truth hears my voice.” “What is truth?” Pilate asks; but without waiting for the answer, he leaves Jesus, for he is anxious to have done with this case. He returns to the Jews, and says to them: “I find no cause in Him.” Pilate fancies that this Jesus must be a leader of some Jewish sect, whose teaching give offense to the chief priests, but which are not worth his examining into them: yet at the same time, he is convinced that he is a harmless Man, and that it would be foolish and unjust to accuse Him of disturbing the state.
Scarcely has Pilate expressed his opinion in favor of Jesus than a long list of accusations is brought up against Him by the chief priests. Pilate is astonished at Jesus’ making no reply and says to Him: “Do you not hear how grave the testimonies they bring against you?” (Mt 27.13) These words are kindly meant, but Jesus still remains silent: they, however, excite His enemies to fresh fury, and they cry out: “He stirs up all the people, teaching throughout all Judea, beginning from Galilee, even to this place” (Lk 23,5). This word Galilee suggests a new idea to Pilate. Herod, the tetrarch of Galilee, happens to be in Jerusalem at this very time. Jesus is his subject; He must be sent to him. thus Pilate will get rid of a troublesome case, and this act of courteous deference will re-establish a good understanding between him and Herod.
The Savior is therefore dragged through the street of Jerusalem, from Pilate’s house to Herod’s palace. His enemies follow Him with relentless fury; but Jesus still observes His noble silence. Herod, the murdered of John the Baptist, insults Him, and ordering Him to be clothed in a white garment, as a fool, he sends Him back to Pilate. Another plan for ridding himself of this troublesome case now strikes the Roman governor. At the feast of the Pasch, he had the power of granting pardon to any one criminal the people may select. They are assembled together at the court-gates. He feels sure that their choice will fall upon Jesus, for it is but a few days ago that they led Him in triumph through the city: besides, he intends to make the alternative one who is an object of execration to the whole people; he is a murderer, and his name is Barabbas. “Whom will you have me release to you?” asks Pilate: “Barabbas, or Jesus, that is called the Christ?” He has not long to wait for the answer: the crowd exclaim, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” “What then,” replies Pilate, “shall I do with Jesus, that is called Christ?” “Crucify Him!” “Why, what evil has He done? I will chastise Him, therefore, and let Him go.” But they, growing irritated at this, cry out so much the louder: “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!”
Pilate’s cowardly subterfuge had failed, and left him in a more difficult position than he was in before. His putting the innocent on a level with a murderer was in itself a gross injustice; and yet, he has not gone far enough for a people that is blind with passion. Neither does his promise to chastise Jesus satisfy them: they want more than His Blood; they insist on His death.
Here let us pause, and offer our Savior a reparation for the insult He here receives. He is put in competition with a murderer, and the murderer is preferred. Pilate makes an attempt to save Jesus: but on what terms! He must be put on a footing with a vile wretch, and even so be worsted? Those very lips that, a few days back, sang “Hosanna to the Son of David,” now clamor for His crucifixion! The city magistrate and governor pronounces Him innocent, and yet condemns Him to be scourged, because He fears a disturbance!
Jesus is made over to the soldiers to be scourged. They rudely strip Him of His garments and tie Him to the pillar which is kept for this kind of torture. Fiercely do the strike Him; the Blood flows down His sacred Body. Let us adore this, the second Blood-shedding of our Jesus, whereby He expiates the sins we and the whole world have committed by the flesh. This scourging is by the hands of Gentiles: the Jews delivered Him up to be punished, and the Romans were the executioners – thus, we have all had our share in the awful deicide.
At last the soldiers are tired; they loose their Victim; but it is not out of anything like pity. Their cruelty is going to rest, and their rest is a derision. Jesus has been called King of the Jews: a king, say they, must have a crown. Accordingly, they make one for the Son o9f David. It is of thorns. They press it violently upon His head, and this is the third Blood-shedding of our Redeemer. Then, that they may make their scoffing perfect, the soldiers thrown a scarlet cloak over His shoulders, and put a reed for a scepter in His hand; and bending their knee before Him, they thus salute Him: “Hail, King of the Jews!” This insulting homage is accompanied with blows upon His holy Face; they spit upon Him; and, from time to time, take the reed from His hand, wherewith to strike the thorns deeper into His head.
Here, the Christian prostrates himself before his Savior and says to Him with a heart full of compassion and veneration: “Yes, my Jesus! You are the King of the Jews! You are the Son of David and therefore our Messiah and Redeemer. Israel, that just recently had proclaimed you their King, now unkings you; the Gentiles scoff at your royalty, making it a subject for keener insult; but reign you must, and over both Jews and Gentiles: over the Jews, by your justice, for they are soon to feel the scepter of your revenge; over the Gentiles, by your mercy, for your apostles are soon to lead them to your feet. Receive, dearest King, our homage and submission! Reign now and ever over our hearts, yes, over our whole being!”
Thus mangled and bleeding, holding the reed in His hand and with the scarlet tatters on His shoulders, Jesus is led back to Pilate. It is just the sight that will soften the hearts of the people; at least, Pilate thinks so; and taking Him to a balcony of the palace, he shows Him to crows below, saying: “Behold, the Man! (Jn 19,5) Little did Pilate know all that these few words conveyed! He says not “Behold Jesus” nor “Behold the King of the Jews.” He says “Behold the Man.” Man! The Christian understand the full force of the word thus applied to our Redeemer. Adam, the first man, rebelled against God, and, by his sin, deranged the whole work of creation: as a punishment for his pride and intemperance, the flesh tyrannized over the spirit; the very earth was cursed, and thorns were to be its growth. Jesus, the New Man, comes into this creation, bearing with Him, not the reality, but the appearance, the likes, of sin: in Him, the work of the Creator regains the primeval order; but the change was not wrought without violence. To teach us that they flesh must be brought into subjection to the spirit, Jesus’ flesh was torn by the scourges; to teach us that pride must give way to humility, the only crown that Jesus wears is made of thorns. Yes: “Behold the Man!” the triumph of the spirit over the flesh, the triumph of humility over pride.
Like the tiger that grows fiercer when it sees blood, so is Israel at the sight of Jesus after His scourging. “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” The cry is still the same. Pilate says: “You take Him, and crucify Him; for I find no cause in Him.” And yet, he has ordered Him to be scourged enough to cause His death! Here is another device of the base coward; but it, too, fails. The Jews have their answer ready; they put forward the right granted by the Romans to the nations that are tributary to the empire. “We have a law,” they say, “according to which He ought to die, because He made Himself the Son of God.” Disconcerted by this reply, Pilate takes Jesus aside into the hall and says to Him: “Whence art Thou?” Jesus is silent. Pilate was not worthy to hear the answer to His question. This silence irritates him. “Will you not speak to me? Do you not know that I have the power to crucify you, and the power to release you?” Here, Jesus deigns to speak; and He speaks, in order to teach us that every power of government, even where pagans are in question, comes from God, and not from a pretended social compact: “You would not have any power over me, unless it had been given you from above. Therefore, he that delivered me to you has the greater sin,”
This dignified reply produces an impression upon Pilate: he resolves to make another attempt to save Jesus. But the people vociferate a threat which alarms him. “If you release this man you are not Caesar’s friend; for whoever makes himself a king, speaks against Caesar.” Still, he is determined to try to pacify the crowd. He leaves the hall, sits upon the judgment seat, orders Jesus to be placed near him and thus pleads for Him: “Behold your King!” as if to say: “What have you or Caesar to fear from such a pitiable object as this?” The argument is unavailing, and only provokes the cry: “Away with Him! Crucify Him!” As though he did not believe them in earnest, Pilate puts to them: “Shall I crucify your King?” This time, the chief priests answer him: “We have no king but Caesar!” When the very ministers of God can talk thus, religion is at an end. No king but Caesar! Then, the scepter is taken from Judah and Jerusalem is case off – and the Messiah is come!
Pilate, seeing that nothing can quell the tumult, and that his honor as governor is at stake, decides on making Jesus over to His enemies. Though against his own inclination, he passes the sentence, which is to cause him such remorse of conscience that he will afterwards seek relief in su***de. He takes a tablet, and with a stylus writes the inscription which is to be fashioned to the Cross. The people demand that two thieves should be crucified at the same time; it would be an additional insult to Jesus: this, too, he grants, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah: “And with the wicked He was reputed” (Is 53,12). Having thus defiled his soul with the most heinous of crimes, Pilate washes his hands before the people, and says to them: “I am innocent of this just Man’s Blood: You, see to it!” They answer him with this terrible self-imprecation: “His Blood be on us, and on our children!”
Here commences the way of the cross: the house of Pilate, where our Jesus receives the sentence of death, is the first station. Our Redeemer is consigned, by the governor’s order, into the hands of the Jews. The soldiers seize Him, and drag Him from the court. They strip Him of the scarlet cloak and bid Him clothe Himself with His own garments, as before the scourging. The cross is reading and they place it on His wounded shoulders. The place where the new Isaac loads Himself with the wood of His sacrifice, is the second station. “To Calvary!” This, the word of command, and it is obeyed: soldiers, executioners, priests, scribes, people – these form the procession. Jesus moved slowly on; but after a few paces, exhausted by the loss of Blood and by His sufferings, He falls under the wright of His cross. It is the first fall, and marks the third station.
He falls, not so much by the weight of the cross as by that of our sins. the soldiers roughly lay their hands on Him and force Him up again. Scarcely has He resumed His first steps, that He is met by His afflicted Mother. The “valiant woman”, whose love is stronger than death, was not be be absent at an hour such as this. She must see her Son, follow Him, keep close to Him, even to His last breath. No tongue can tell the poignancy of her grief. The anxiety she has endured during the last few days has exhausted her strength. All the sufferings of Jesus have been made known to her by a divine revelation; she has shared each one of them with Him. But now, she cannot endure to be absent, and makes her way through the crowd. The sacrifice is night its consummation; no human power could keep such a Mother from her Jesus. The faithful Magdalene is by her side, bathed in tears; John, Mary the mother of James the Less, and Salome, the mother of John, are also with her: they weep for their divine Master, she for her Son. Jesus sees her, but cannot comfort her, for all this is but the beginning of hat he is to endure. Oh, what an additional suffering was this for His loving Heart, to see His Mother agonizing with sorrow! The executioners observe the Mother of their Victim, but it would be too much mercy in them to allow her to speak to Him; she must follow, if she please, with the crowd; it is more than she could have expected, to be allowed this meeting, which we venerate as the fourth station of the cross.
But from this to the last there is a long distance, fo4 there is a law that all criminals are to be executed outside the city walls. The Jews are afraid of Jesus’ expiring before reaching the place of sacrifice. Just then, they behold a man coming in from the country, by name Simon of Cyrene; the order him to help Jesus carry His cross. It is out of a motive of cruelty to our Lord, but it gives Simon the honor of sharing with Him the fatigue of bearing the instrument of the world’s salvation. The spot where this happens is the fifth station.
A little farther on, an incident occurs which strikes the executioners themselves with astonishment. A woman makes her way through the crowd, and, setting the soldiers at defiance, comes close up to Jesus. She holds her veil in her hands, and with it, respectfully wipes the face of our Lord, for it is covered with blood, sweat and spittle. She loves Jesus, and cares not what might happen to her, so she can offer Him this slight comfort. Her loves receives its reward: she finds her veil miraculously impressed with the likeness of Jesus’ Face. This courageous act of Veronica marks the sixth station of the way of the cross.
Jesus grows weaker at every step: He falls a second time. It is the seventh station. Again do the soldiers violently raise Him up and push Him along the road. It is easy to follow in His footsteps, for a streak of Blood shows where He has passed. A group of women is following close behind the soldiers; they heed not the insults heaped upon them; their compassion makes them brave. But the last brutal treatment shown to Jesus is more than they can bear ion silence; they utter a cry of pitiful lamentation. Our Savior is pleased with these women, who are showing more courage than all the men of Jerusalem. He affectionately turns towards them and tells them what a terrible chastisement is to follow the crime they are now witnessing. The chief priests and the scribes recognize the dignity of the prophet that had so often spoken to them: they listen with indignation; and, at this the eighth station of the great way, they hear these words: “Daughters of Jerusalem: weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days shall come, wherein they will say: Blessed are the barren and the wombs that have not born and the breasts that have not suckled. Then, they shall begin to say to the mountains: fall upon us! And to the hills: Cover us!” (Lk 23,28-30)
At last they reach the foot of the gill. Calvary is steep; but it is the place of Jesus’ Sacrifice. He begins the ascent, but falls a third time: the hallowed spot is counted as the ninth station. A third time, the soldiers force Jesus to rise and continue His painful journey to the summit of the hill, which is to serve as the altar for the holocaust that is to surpass all others in holiness and in power. The executioners seize the cross and lay it upon the ground, preparatory to nailing the divine Victim to it. According to a custom practiced both by the Romans and the Jews, a cup containing wine and myrrh is offered to Jesus. This drink, which had the bitterness of gall, was given as a narcotic, in order to deaden, to some degree, the feeling of the criminal, and lessen his pain. Jesus raises to His lips the cup, which is proffered Him rather by custom than from any idea of kindness; but He drinks not its contents, for He wishes to embrace the full intensity of the suffering He accepts for our sake. Then the executioners, having violently stripped Him of His garments, which had fastened to His wounds, lead Him to the cross. The place where He was thus stripped of His garments, and where the cup of bitter drink was presented to Him, is venerated as the tenth station of the way of the cross. The first nine, from Pilate’s hall to the foot of the cross, are still to be seen in the streets of Jerusalem but the tenth, and the remaining four, are in the interior of the church of the Holy Sepulcher, whose spacious walls enclose the spot where the last mysteries of the Passion were accomplished.
But we must here interrupt our history: it is time to assist at the service of our holy mother the Church, in which she celebrates the Death of her divine Spouse. We wait not for the usual summons of the bells; they are silent; we must listen to the call of our faith and devotion. Let us, then, repair to the house of God.
THE SERVICE
The service of this day consists of four parts, which we now proceed to explain. First of all, we have the lessons; next, the prayers; thirdly, the veneration of the cross; and lastly, the Mass of the Presanctified. These solemn and unusual rites announce to the Faithful the sacredness of this day, as also the suspension of the holy Sacrifice, for which they are substituted. The altar is stripped; the Cross is covered with a black veil; the candles are of yellow wax; everything in the sanctuary bespeaks mournfulness. As soon as the choir have recited None, the celebrant and sacred ministers approach the altar;; their black vestments denote the grief of holy Church. On reaching the foot of the altar, they prostrate and pray in silence, while the acolytes cover the altar with a single cloth, instead of the usual three which are always required when Mass is being celebrated. The ministers then arise and the l4esson are begun.
The prophets, having prepared us for the fulfillment of their types, now holy Church relates to us the history of our Savior’s Passion. It is St. John, the fourth of the evangelists, an eye-witness account of what took place – the last moments of Jesus’ mortal life.
Having thus described to us the Passion and Death of her divine Spouse, the Church would follow the example set her by this the Mediator of the world. St. Paul tells us that Jesus, when dying on the Cross, offered up to His eternal father, for all mankind, prayers and supplications, with a strong cry and tears (Hb 5,7). Therefore it is, that from the earliest ages, the Church has presented to the divine Majesty, upon this day, a solemn formula of prayers, in which she intercedes for the necessities of the whole world. How truly is she the mother of all peoples, and the affectionate Bride of Christ! All are includes in these intercessions, which she makes under the shadow of the Cross, to the Father of all ages.
The prayers are ended. The charity and zeal of the Church have embraced the whole universe of men, invoking upon them the merciful effusion of that precious Blood, which is now flowing from the wounds of her crucified Lord. She turns next to her faithful children. Filled with holy indignation at the humiliations heaped upon her Jesus, she invites us to a solemn act of reparation: it is to consist in venerating that cross which our divine Lord has borne to the summit of Calvary, and to which He is to be fastened with nails. This cross is a stumbling-block to the Jews and foolishness to Gentiles (1Cor 1,23); but to us Christians, it is the trophy of Jesus’ victory and is worthy of our deepest veneration, because of the honor conferred upon it by the Son of God: He consecrated it by His own Blood, he worked our salvation by its means. No time could be more appropriate than this for honoring it with the humble tribute of our veneration.
The holy ceremony of venerating the Cross on Good Friday was first instituted in Jerusalem, in the fourth century. Owing to the pious zeal of the empress St. Helena, the True Cross had been recently recovered, to the immense joy of the whole Church. The Faithful, as might be expected, were desirous of seeing this precious relic, and accordingly, it was exposed every Good Friday. This brought a very great number of pilgrims to Jerusalem; and yet how few, comparatively, could hope to have the happiness of such a visit, or witness the magnificent ceremony! An imitation of what was done on this day at Jerusalem was a natural result of these pious desires. It was about the seventh century that the practice of publicly venerating the cross on Good Friday was introduced into other churches. True, it was only an image of the true cross that these other churches could show to their people; but as the respect that is paid to the true Cross refers to Christ Himself, the Faithful could offer Him a like homage of adoration, even though not having present before their eyes the sacred wood which had been consecrated by the Blood of Jesus. Such was the origin of the imposing ceremony at which holy Church now invites us to assist.
The celebrant takes off the chasuble; which is the badge of the priesthood; it is in order that the reparation, which he is to be the first to offer to our outraged Jesus, may be made with all possible humility. He then stands on the step near the Epistle side of the altar, and turns his face towards the people. The deacon takes down the cross from the altar and gives it to the celebrant, who then unveils the upper part as far as the arms. He raises it a little and signs the words: “Behold the wood of the Cross!. Then, he continues, accompanied now by the deacon and subdeacon: “on which hung the salvation of the world!” the people then kneel down and venerate the Cross while the choir sins these words: “Come, let us adore!”
This first exposition, which is made at the side of the altar, and in a low tone of voice, represents the first preaching of the Cross, that, namely, which the apostles made, when, for fear of the Jews, they dared not to speak of the great mystery except to the few faithful disciples of Jesus. For the same reason, the priest but slightly elevates the cross. The homage here to paid to it is intended as a reparation for the insults and injuries offered to our Redeemer in the house of Caiaphas.
The priest then comes to the front of the step and is thus nearer to the people. He unveils the right arm of the Cross and holds up the holy sign of our redemption, higher than the first time. He then repeats the antiphon, this time on a higher note – and the people fall to their knees and repeat the response. This second elevation of the cross signifies the apostles’ extending their preaching of the mystery of our redemption to the Jews, after the descent of the Holy Spirit; by which preaching they made many thousands of coverts and planted the Church in the very midst of the Synagogue. It is intended as a reparation to our Savior for the treatment He received in the court of Pilate.
The priest then advances to the middle of the altar, and with his face still turned towards the people, he removes the veil entirely from the cross. He elevates it more than he did the two preceding times and sings triumphantly the antiphon, on a higher note still. The people fall to their knees and repeat the veneration. This third and unreserved manifestation represents the mystery of the cross being preached to the whole earth, when the apostles, after being rejected from the Jewish community, turned towards the Gentiles and preached Christ crucified even far beyond the limits of the Roman empire. It is intended as a reparation to our Lord for the outrages offered to Him on Calvary.
But the Church is not satisfied with showing her children the cross that has saved them; she would have them approach and kiss it. The priest leads the way. He has already taken off his chasuble. He now takes off his shows also, and then advances towards the place where he has put the crucifix. He makes three genuflections at three intervals, and finally kisses the cross. The other sacred ministers then follow him, and lastly the people. The chants which are used during this moment are exceedingly haunting. They are called the Improperia, that is, the reproaches made by our Lord.
Towards the end of the end of the veneration of the cross, the altar candles are lit, the deacon spreads upon the altar the corporal for the blessed Sacrament to be placed upon. As soon as the Faithful have finished their adoration, the priest takes the Cross and replaces it on the altar.
So vividly is the Church impressed with the remembrance of the great sacrifice offer today on Calvary that she refrains from renewing on her altars the immolation of the divine Victim, but contents herself with partaking of the sacred mystery by Communion only. After the priest has resumed his chasuble, the clergy go in procession to the altar where the consecrated Host has been reserved since yesterday’s Mass. The deacon takes the chalice which contains it, and places it on the altar. The priest, having offered the homage of his adoration to our Redeemer, takes into his hands the chalice wherein He is enclosed Whom heaven and earth cannot contain. The clergy, with lighted tapers in their hands, return to the high altar, singing the great anthem of the cross, the Vexilla Regis!
But before receiving the sacred Host in holy Communion, the priest invites us to adore Him. Taking, then, in his right hand the adorable Body of our redeemer, he raises Him on high, as Jesus was raised up on the Cross. The Faithful, who are already kneeling during this part of the Service, bow down low in profound adoration before the crucified Lord. They then communicate. Thus terminates the Mass of the Presanctified. The priest, with the sacred ministers, makes a genuflection at the foot of the altar to the cross, and retires to the sacristy. The choir immediately begins Vespers, which are simply recited.
