If the Liturgical Year Wasn't a Thing, You'd Have to Invent It

Another reason why I feel so blessed to be a Catholic

I don’t know if any of my Cradle Catholic friends feel the same way, but as a (still fairly recent) convert, I am often awestruck by one or another aspect of the faith that makes me go, “I feel so blessed to be a Catholic!”

One of the things that leave me awash in gratitude is the Liturgical Year.

When I was a Protestant, the calendar was an empty wasteland punctuated by a few highlights here and there: Christmas, my son’s birthday, my birthday, Easter, my husband’s birthday, Memorial Day, Mother’s Day, 4th of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving. (Yes, as a Congregationalist/Methodist/what-have-you liberal church hopper, I didn’t have any compunctions about Halloween.)

But all those days were just random sprinkles on a homemade cake. Nothing meant anything.

On the other hand, the liturgical calendar of Mother Church has given a distinctive, organic flow to my days, weeks, months. Now the whole year feels like an Opus Magnum in which each season, each day has an important role to play.

Easter is not a long weekend in the spring anymore—it stretches out over months, more or less taking up half the year.

There’s Lent, the austere, somber lead-up, a time of fasting and penance for 40 days. Every year, I look forward to it and try to make the most of it. Lent is like New Year’s Resolutions on steroids. It gives me an opportunity to think about what’s really important in life and try to reduce or even eliminate what’s not.

It’s a temporary (therefore safe) way to see how far I can push my limits. Can I really give up social media for 40 days? How much less can I eat one, two, seven (?!) days a week without feeling brain-fogged and near starvation? How am I doing with no meat, no coffee, no sweets?

It’s not just a sacrifice for God, it’s also an interesting experiment in self-control and discipline, and I’m extra motivated because everyone else is doing it too. Of course, the success rate varies from year to year. But what remains is the sincerity of my desire to join Christ in His suffering in preparation for the Big Event.

Once Palm Sunday rolls around, I’m so amped up that I can’t wait to get to Holy Week, which is a slow procession into the full Passion of the Christ, starting with Spy Wednesday, when Judas resolved to betray Our Lord for thirty pieces of silver. Tenebrae or the “Service of Shadows” is one of my favorite events of the year. The Lamentations for Jerusalem give me goosebumps, and I know to take an extra wad of tissues because I’m guaranteed to bawl my eyes out.

Here’s part of the Lamentations. Sorry for the audio quality, but I recorded this on my phone:

And here’s the sung response by the congregation, men and women separate:

You can literally hear the despair and hopelessness upon being forsaken by God.

Then comes Holy Thursday with the reveal of the Paschal Candle