An article from the Cathedral Times
by the Rev. Canon George Maxwell
I sensed it on the morning of the
first day. It grew a little stronger that evening. By the time Sunday
arrived, I was in mourning.
We don't say the
Alleluias during Lent, and I missed them.
The words
that come just before or just after those familiar Alleluias seemed to
feel the same way. They sounded a little tentative, more vulnerable
somehow.
The Amen anchoring the opening doxology in
Morning and Evening Prayer was suddenly less sure of itself.
The "Therefore, let us keep the feast" response to
the fraction had lost some of its bounce.
The
Alleluias had gone and left an empty space
behind.
Alleluia comes from an ancient Hebrew term
that means, "praise Yahweh." Many of us have come to think of it as our
ultimate response to God. It carries our joy and our gratitude, and it
carries an awareness of our limitations and our dependence on God.
It is, after all, "Alleluia!" that the angels sing
as they gather around the throne of God in Revelation. (See Rev.
19:1-4.)
Maybe it's true. Maybe we really don't know
what we've got "˜till it's gone.
I am reminded of a
paragraph in a Jeanne Murray Walker poem titled "Staying Power."
It's the attention, maybe, to what isn't
there that makes the notion flare like
a forest fire
until I have to spend the afternoon
spraying it with a hose
just to put it out.
I am already looking
forward to the Great Vigil of Easter.
We will light
the New Fire and bring it into the Nave, as if we were bringing the love
of the resurrected Christ into a suffering world. We will tell again
the great stories of our history with God's healing presence. We will
baptize candidates into a new life as part of the Body of Christ. And,
then, finally, at long last, we will shout , yes, SHOUT , three times:
"Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed!
Alleluia!"
But, for now, I'm left standing here,
staring at this empty space, wondering where all of the Alleluias have
gone. Because, you see, we don't say the Alleluias during
Lent.
by Canon George Maxwell