This evening with the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, the curtain rises on Christianity’s greatest drama, the Triduum. For the next three days, Catholics around the world will be immersed in a three act drama not even Shakespeare could surpass. Unfortunately, few see the events of these three days as one story; rather many see this for the most part as separate and distinct stories. Worse yet, they are observed through the lens of history as something from the ancient past that has little or nothing to do with us in the 21st century.
Since the readings began with the Exodus account of the first Passover, listing the requisites for its ritual Seder meal, we might be wise to take a page from our Israelite-Jewish ancestors when approaching our own sacred rites. They believe that in some mystical manner all Jews, past, present and future, are somehow present at that key episode in their history. Everything is spoken of in the present tense. God’s interaction with them is not something that took place in the distant past, but something that continues to take place right here and now.
How differently might we react to the momentous events of the next 72 hours if we saw ourselves as taking part in them? Granted, it could take some time to acclimate ourselves to a new mindset. Still, we could try. That is what those of us who traveled to the Holy Land endeavored to do as we stood in the upper room envisioning this meal, walked the Via Dolorosa, stood in the courtyard at Galincantu with Peter as he denied Jesus three times, knelt in the church of the Holy sepulcher as though we were at the foot of the cross after celebrating Mass at the Lord’s tomb.
If we see ourselves as being present at the Last Supper, Jesus is washing our feet, challenging us firsthand to be people of service just as he was to his disciples. “I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.” He is speaking to all generations of believers, past, present, and future, not just the apostles.
He is also instituting the incomparable gift of the Eucharist, as Paul tells us long before the gospels were written, before our eyes. “This cup is the new covenant of my blood. Do this as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For each time you do, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. Is this a gift we are anxious to accept or inclined to pass up?
We are very much aware by watching the look in his eyes, the expression on his face, the tone of his voice that this is no ordinary meal or gift, this is no ordinary gathering. Something is up. We don’t yet know what, but it doesn’t seem to bode well. We have to allow the drama to unfold later after we leave the upper room. We are urged to spend time in the garden with him in prayer as his disciples did, then continue the journey with him as he carried the cross along the Via Dolorosa to the place of the skull. Ultimately, we will witness the climax of this great drama when the light of the Easter Candle will dispel the darkness of sin in our midst. For me, that is one of the most exciting moments of year, one that sums up all that this story is all about. Christ is our light. There is no other way to make our way to the Promised Land, following in the footsteps of our ancestors.
Years ago, Walter Cronkite, the renowned news anchor for CBS, hosted a TV series called You Are There. Try that from now until Easter morning. See if it doesn’t change the way these events unfold for you. While most of you did not have the opportunity firsthand to literally journey through the Holy Land, you can if you choose to place yourself in this awesome drama that will be unfolding before us.