April Shower of Photos: Caterpillars on Parade

In our usual haphazard fashion, I remembered on Saturday evening that we wanted to make catepillars on Palm Sunday for our little symbolic Holy Week tradition. So I picked up five dozen eggs at the grocery store (fortunately they were on sale!) and we had German pancakes and quiche yesterday AND Gus made a huge batch of lemon curd. Anyway, here are the results:On the side of organization, however, we just got a second fridge and it is happily installed in the basement. I already have Holy Thursday lamb and Easter ham stored in there (and for the first time *ever* was able to purchase more than three gallons of milk at a time!).

Ria and Bernie's Easter Bunny

Decorated with plastic easter eggs and leftover egg coloring of course. :)

The 110 Year Winter

No, not a long winter, that's the snowfall record we broke with the Good Friday Snowfall. Milwaukee has had more than 95 inches of snow this winter, making it the second snowiest Milwaukee winter on record (breaking the record of 94.2 inches set in the winter of 1897-1898 - I couldn't find snowfall records more local than that, but close enough).

More locally, we were hit with about 15 inches of very heavy, very wet snow yesterday. The picture I posted yesterday was only the beginning of the snowfall. Here's what it looks like out there this morning (after quite a bit of shoveling John did just this morning).

I have to admit that I've never in my life dreamed of having a White Easter, but we're already doing some scheming to have a little fun with Eastery snow decorations. Stay tuned. :)

Little Ideas and Questions on Good Friday

Terri, Bernie and Gus (with a little help from Daddy) made these lovely crosses as a surprise for everyone for Good Friday.

I found out about it in a funny way. I knew the kids were working on something because I was forbidden from entering certain rooms for a time while they were working. Silly me, I assumed that the surprise was for Easter.

And so, yesterday we were talking about the bleak prospects of getting to Holy Hill today to make our way through the beautiful outdoor stations of the cross. We were pretty sure the weather would prevent our going out, especially since we need new tires on the van and probably shouldn't drive in heavy snow at the moment. So the kids and I started brainstorming about what we could do to remember Good Friday in our own home. One of them immediately reassured me, oh, don't worry, we have a surprise. Sure enough, late last night, these three carefully set up their display and covered the doorway with a sheet so no one could peek in.

Well, I set about to tell some related Frank stories. So here they are...

Frank is filled with questions about Good Friday, the crucifix, the Trinity and many other related questions. In the midst of these questions, he looked at the three big crosses on the table and asked "Are those for the three Gods?"

Later, all of the kids had decided to make homemade bread. They love baking, though I don't really love the mess. Ria was making hers with whole wheat flour, but Frank misunderstood. He asked for some of the "holy flour" for his loaf.

The Theme of Lent This Year...

seems to be "*YOU* are not the one in control." I've seen hints of it in many blogposts around the 'Net (particularly from Moms who really want to do a lot of wonderful spiritual things with their families during Lent). For me, it is perfectly illustrated by the twin winter storms that prevented us from going out to services and our usual devotions on Ash Wednesday and now today on Good Friday.

This seems perfectly related to the virtue of Patience, which is the theme of the Fourth Sorrowful Mystery in a little book of quotes I have by St. Francis de Sales (the book is called: Sermon in a Sentence: A Treasury of Quotations on the Spiritual Life, Volume 2, published by Ignatius Press).

Here are a few quotes from this section:

The soul that rises from sin to devotion has been compared to the dawning day, which at its approach does not drive out the darkness instantaneously but only little by little.

The greatest happiness of any one is "to possess his soul," and the more perfect our patience, the more fully we so possess our souls.

If we must have patience with others, so we must with ourselves. Those who aspire to the pure love of God have not so much need of patience with others as with themselves.

The acts of daily forbearance, the headache, or toothache, or heavy cold; the tiresome peculiarities of husband or wife, the broken glass... all of these sufferings, small as they are, if accepted lovingly, are most pleasing to God's Goodness.

Holy Thursday

My children's favorite meal of the year (and they openly admit this) is our Holy Thursday meal. We have a passover-like meal (a general approximation) which we tend to get a little better at each year.

For us it seems to help to not start with big expectations, but to let a tradition develop slowly from year to year until it becomes an integral part of our lives. The impact of this particular tradition only fully hit me last year when the kids excitedly exclaimed that it was their favorite meal of the year. I never expected it to become that! I also like how it's worked out that, even though there are some downsides of not having everyone go to the evening Mass on Holy Thursday, this is one that that they get to choose to go to - and the older ones, at least, tend to choose willingly to go to this particularly beautiful Mass, full of symbolism that is made just a little more vibrant by our symbolic dinner beforehand.

We haven't always done this, but I'd say we've had a pretty strong record for about eight years running. One year, before this time, Ria entered an Easter Coloring contest at our local grocery store. They called us on Holy Thursday morning to let us know that Ria had won first place in her age group. She won a couple of frozen pizzas and some bottles of soda. She was so proud of bringing her food home to share with everyone, so we ate frozen pizza and soda for Holy Thursday dinner that year.

Ah, tonight we ate much better, though. Once a year I splurge and pick up a big piece of lamb. It's not cheap, but it's extremely memorable. I cook it a little differently each year (I'm definitely a wing-it sort of cook.) This year I cooked it with olive oil, garlic, fresh rosemary and sage and, of course, salt and pepper. I made a gravy to go with it and it turned out very well, I think. (The unleavened bread was delicious dipped in the gravy!). I do need to remember to get one of those oil-separators to simplify the gravy-making process.

When we first started doing these meals, it was with the help of Mary Reed Newland's The Year and Our Children. We still have never made it farther than that in the book. It has a bookmark in a permanent spot for Holy Thursday and we take it out most years to help remember the details. We didn't manage to pull it out this year, but we pretty much remembered the menu and we talked about the purpose of the meal rather informally.

Once thing *I* like about fixing this meal is that it was meant to be fixed and eaten in a hurry. Even in the midst of a chaotic week, we wear our shoes to the meal and rush off to Mass or whatever else. Today was a little more chaotic than usual. Our big van has been in the shop all week and we finally got a call late this afternoon that it was ready. Since we're expecting a major snowstorm tomorrow and we'll definitely need the van over the weekend (!), we ran off to pick up the van after dinner and three of the kids and I arrived at Mass only fifteen minutes late.

Anyway, back to the menu, besides the aforementioned lamb:

unleavened bread (here's the recipe we found online). This took Ria about 15 minutes to prepare and 20 or 25 minutes to cook (alongside the lamb).

We also generally pick up some sort of kosher crackers - Matzos or some such. These are usually very good with...

Charoseth. We use the recipe we found in Mary Reed Newland's book. This is supposed to represent the mortar for the bricks used by the Israelites while they were in slavery in Egypt. This recipe calls for a mixture of raisins, chopped peanuts (I get dry-roasted, other kinds may also work) and applesauce. We just wing it on the proportions.

Bitter herbs - we put a long sprig of parsley and a little radish on each plate. It's colorful and interesting to taste. We also have a few bowls of salt water around (to dip these bitter herbs in) which are supposed to represent the tears of the Israelites in slavery.

Grape Juice - my kids love this part!!!

We generally also have a dessertish sort of thing too. One year I picked up some candied fruits in the kosher section of the grocery store. This year it was some dried dates and apricots, which went VERY well with the rest of the meal.

I did take some pictures and I'll try to post them later. This year, the table was especially pretty as Frank asked very sweetly yesterday if we could get a flower to put in the middle of the table for the special dinner. :)

Oh, and I forgot to mention that the kids love setting a special place for Elijah. The little girls, who made the place cards, carefully wrote out one for him too and Kate and Terri felt very privileged to sit on either side.

God's Generosity

We've been studying the eighth chapter of Pope Benedict XVI's Jesus of Nazareth lately. It was interesting because last Thursday's reading involved both the story of the Samaritan Woman at the Well (which was the previous Sunday's Gospel) AND the story of Jesus healing the blind man at the Pool of Siloam (which was yesterday's Gospel).

One of my favorite parts from this read, though, was from an exposition on the story of the Wedding Feast of Cana. It involved the interweaving of the reality of God's generosity as evident in the superabundance of the miracle of changing water into wine and how that is the same generosity as the sacrifice on the cross...

There is another basic element of the narrative linked to this timing. Jesus says to Mary that his hour has not yet come. On an immediate level, this means that he does not simply act and decide by his own lights, but always in harmony with the Father's will and always in terms of the Father's plan. More particularly, the "hour" designates his "glorification," which brings together his Cross, his Resurrection and his presence throughout the world in word and sacrament. Jesus' hour, the hour of his "glory," begins at the moment of the Cross, and its historical setting is the moment when the Passover lambs are slaughtered - it is just then that Jesus, the true lamb, pours out his blood. His hour comes from God, but it is solidly situated in a precise historical context tied to a liturgical date - and just so it is the beginning of the new liturgy in "spirit and truth." When at this juncture Jesus speaks to Mary of his hour, he is connecting the present moment with the mystery of the Cross interpreted as his glorification. This hour is not yet come; that was the first thing that had to be said. And yet Jesus has the power to anticipate this "hour" in a mysterious sign. This stamps the miracle of Cana as an anticipation of the hour, tying the two together intrinsically.

How could we forget that this thrilling mystery of the anticipated hour continues to occur again and again? Just as at his mother's request Jesus gives a sign that anticipates his hour, and at the same time directs our gaze toward it, so too he does the same thing ever anew in the Eucharist. Here, in response to the Church's prayer, the Lord anticipates his return; he comes already now; he celebrates the marriage feast with us here and now. In so doing, he lifts us out of our own time toward the coming "hour."

We thus begin to understand the event of Cana. The sign of God is overflowing generosity. We see it in the multiplication of the loaves; we see it again and again - most of all, though, at the center of salvation history, in the fact that he lavishly spends himself for the lowly creature, man. This abundant giving is his "glory." The superabundance of Cana is therefore a sign that God's feast with humanity, his self-giving for men, has begun. The framework of this event, the wedding, thus becomes an image that points beyond itself to the messianic hour: The hour of God's marriage feast with his people has begun in the coming of Jesus. The promise of the last days enter into the Now.

Easter Triduum

We had a very nice Easter Triduum.

On Holy Thursday we prepared a very simple "seder" meal as we do every year. The funny thing was that I realized how very much the kids love this ritual. I roast lamb and we pick up parsley (to dip in salt water) and radishes (bitter herbs) as well as a fake haroseth (applesauce, raisins and peanuts mixed together) and both store-bought matzos and home-made unleavened bread. We generally put out a tablecloth and read a little from The Year and Our Children by Mary Reed Newland. The kids were just raving about how much they love this meal. Terri told me she had been looking forward to this meal for months and Gus said it was the best meal of the year that we eat at our house (he wasn't ready to have it top Uncle Mike's Thanksgiving feasts).

John took the older four kids to Mass at Holy Hill right after dinner (it always seems somewhat appropriate to be rushing off to Mass - at least keeping in the spirit of the first Passover). I didn't think the little ones could handle two late Masses so close together.

John had to work Friday morning, but the kids were very anxious to visit our usual Good Friday morning spot - the beautiful, life-size outdoor stations of the cross at Holy Hill. This year Archbishop Dolan led the stations and the kids really loved it. He's so friendly with the little ones and they managed to get fairly close to each station despite the big crowd (Ria - who was leading our bunch - realized she could follow right behind him and get everyone in fairly close). It really is a beautiful place of pilgrimage - many people drive up even from the Chicago area for Good Friday. It's gives us such a lovely sense of being Catholic that you don't always get in the United States. Not only is it a beautiful shrine (now officially a basilica!) but people visit from all over the world and speak many languages.

Friday afternoon, John and I watched the Passion of the Christ while the kids watched Jesus of Nazareth. It was the first time I watched it (at least in its entirety) since we saw it in the theatre. At the theatre, I found it so overwhelming that it was almost distracting. It didn't move me in the way I expected - kind of a sensory overload. I'm really glad I saw it again because I found it very beautiful and moving this second time through.

Saturday was busy with baking and cleaning until we left for the vigil Mass at our nearby Schoenstatt shrine. The Schoenstatt movement originated in Germany and has had a strong presence in Wisconsin for many years. Ria, Terri and Bernie have all been involved in girls' groups and retreats there. The vigil Mass is simple and very beautiful. It's really quite a small crowd, just a few families in addition to all of the Schoenstatt nuns and postulants. The sheltered location, the darkness, the cold, and the very simple architecture made it feel like we were swept away to some mountain hamlet in Europe for the night. The kids love the ritual of the Easter fire, the candles, the readings and singing of the psalms (and we all loved the harmonies that the sisters sang with each of the psalms). Frank was in awe when they sang the gloria with the bells ringing and lights being turned on one at a time. I had to spend most of the mass with him outside in the hallway (he had a nap that afternoon and was exuberantly joyful!), but it really was a beautiful night.

Good Friday

God's passionate love for his people - for humanity - is at the same time a forgiving love. It is so great that it turns God against himself, his love against his justice. Here Christians can see a dim prefigurement of the mystery of the Cross: so great is God's love for man that by becoming man he follows him even into death, and so reconciles justice and love. (Pope Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est)

There were solitudes beyond where none shall follow. There were secrets in the inmost and invisible part of that drama that have no symbol in speech; or in any severance of a man from men. Nor is it easy for any words less stark and single-minded than those of the naked narrative even to hint at the horror of exaltation that lifted itself above the hill. Endless expositions have not come to the end of it, or even to the beginning. And if there be any sound that can produce a silence, we may surely be silent about the end and the extremity; when a cry was driven out of that darkness in words dreadfully distinct and dreadfully unintelligible, which man shall never understand in all the eternity they have purchased for him; and for one annihilating instant an abyss that is not for our thoughts had opened even in the unity of the absolute; and God had been forsaken of God. (G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man)

Photo Courtesy of www.sxc.hu