Whenever Holy Thursday comes and the Triduum starts, Lent ends with the apex of the Last Supper, immediately followed by the nadir of the removal of the Blessed Sacrament from the church. Then, the church is not the House of God anymore, our contemporary House of Bread (Bethlehem), but an empty shell immersed in darkness and drabness.
Come Good Friday and the gloom is overwhelming at the memorial of that dreaded moment when the Sun had refused to shine. Like Jesus’ disciples on that day, I am confused and afraid. Perhaps not for the same reasons as the Apostle’s , but still deeply troubled by my sinfulness that I see piercing the Lord’s hands, feet and eventually his side too.
It’s only on the Easter Vigil that everything becomes clear, as the Light of the World conquers death for ever! It takes me a while to realize how merciful the Lord is and to recognize His gifts. Now as then, He offers His body and blood as the new Manna to feed me on the road out of Egypt toward Jerusalem. By His grace, all my fears are cast aside and my heart is inundated with hope, for His body was not marred and His blood, spilled in vain, but are offered to nourish me and to wash me.
He is truly risen!