We went to Holy Thursday Mass tonight, Seth and me and our niece. We went to the grand basilica on Palm Beach, a church that feels a bit like I imagine the Vatican might feel like. My niece and I both had the same thought at precisely the same moment: as the pipe organ belted out the Gloria, full choir in the loft behind us, the altar boys ringing the bells continuously for the duration of the triumphant hymn: We both stood there, singing and thinking, “This is not at all like the Shakers.”
We had brought the kid with us to Maine last month where she did, in fact, experience Shaker Sunday Meeting. It was the Third Sunday of Lent and the theme of the readings was suffering. But even with that drudgery, Meeting was lovely and beautiful in its simplicity. Everything about Shaker Meeting is beautiful that way. And everything about St. Edward’s Basilica is beautiful in the opposite way: in its richness and opulence. I love them both. It was a joy to be at Shaker Meeting that Third Sunday of Lent, and a joy to be at Holy Thursday Mass at St. Edward’s tonight.
St. Edward’s was the first stop on our annual nighttime Holy Thursday pilgrimage to three churches, a tradition my grandma taught me. We went to St. Ann’s next, the old church on the mainland, and then back across the lagoon to Bethesda by the Sea, but the Episcopalians let us down this year: the church was locked and there was no keeping watch there, no vigil. But we wandered the grounds, and we commiserated with other pilgrims in this world who, too, were trying all the doors to the church, only to find them locked, as we had, too. We’re counting the wandering around the grounds as a visit to the church all the same… and so we completed our pilgrimage. By the time we got home, it was well past 11: a night well spent with two of my favorite people.
Lest you get the wrong idea about me, you should know that church and Shaker Meetings are rare occasions for me. I pray to myself (and sometimes out loud, as I’m driving –– it helps cut down on my swearing) and I sing hymns and Shaker songs as I go about my day (because I like to sing and I like old songs like this). But my attendance at formal religious ceremonies is spotty, at best. I don’t necessarily want it to be so, but it is. And perhaps this is a great disservice to myself. Another thing that drifted through my head, through the readings and the hymns, the ones that dealt with love and respect and the dignity of the people around us, was the realization that the people running the country lately were most likely not at a Holy Thursday Mass tonight. I don’t see how they could be listening to the Gospel According to John –– where Jesus humbly washes the feet of his disciples, then asks them, Do you realize what I have done for you? –– or singing the same hymns we were singing at St. Edward’s –– the ones about compassion –– and still continue to act as they do. And I acknowledge that perhaps that is the old Democrat in me thinking, but gosh, I do have to believe that that is the human being in me thinking, sans political affiliation.
This Holy Thursday, this Good Friday, this Easter Triduum: may we ascend from darkness and suffering to light and compassion and greater understanding, and to integrity once more.
Visit our Instagram page (@conviviobookworks) for photos from our Holy Thursday pilgrimage. I’ll post them some time on Friday. Visit our shop in Lake Worth Beach this Saturday, from 11 to 4, for last minute Old World Easter shopping. And visit our shop the weekend after Easter for Independent Bookstore Days, April 26 & 27: We’ll be printing on our 1950s Nolan Press and I’ll teach you how to make a simple book, too.
Image at top: Ceilings and angel at St. Edward’s Basilica, Palm Beach.
