MAUNDY THURSDAY - HOLY SATURDAY 2016

'Triduum Sacrum' means 'the three holy days' -- the culmination of Lent and Holy Week. The readings for these three days are always the same, and like the traditional liturgies, invite us to reflect on the events of the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, and Christ's Sabbath rest in the tomb -- the best possible preparation for the great culmination of the Easter Vigil and Easter Day.

MAUNDY THURSDAY

• Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14  • 
• Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19  • 
• 1 Corinthians 11:23-26  • 
• John 13:1-17, 31b-35

The word 'Maundy' is a corruption of  the Latin 'mandatum novum', the 'new commandment' that Jesus gives his disciples to 'love one another'. The tradition of foot washing that takes place on this day is a symbolic expression of obedience to that command, and a reflection of what happened in the Upper Room. But the main focus is on the gift of the Eucharist, which is why Maundy Thursday has a celebratory character that the other days of Holy Week lack.

GOOD FRIDAY

• Isaiah 52:13-53:12  • 
• Psalm 22  • 
• Hebrews 10:16-25 or Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9  • 
• John 18:1-19:42

Good Friday is the only day of the year in which the Church does not permit celebrations of the Eucharist lest this should detract from the supreme sacrifice that took place on the Cross. Instead, after the story of the Crucifixion according to John is read, people are invited to express  their veneration of the Cross in the physical action of kneeling before it, and to participate once more in the Last Supper by receiving communion from the elements consecrated on Maundy Thursday.

HOLY SATURDAY

• Job 14:1-14 or Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-24  • 
• Psalm 31:1-4, 15-16  • 
• 1 Peter 4:1-8  • 
• Matthew 27:57-66 or John 19:38-42

Although nowadays Holy Saturday is often used for children's Easter egg hunts, it ought really to be a day of quiet reflection and prayerful waiting, ending in the Great Vigil of Easter, possibly the most ancient of all Christian festivals.

A curiously empty day,

As if the world's life

Had gone underground.

The April sun

Warming the dry grass

Makes pale spring promises

But nothing comes to pass.

Anger

Relaxes into despair

As we remember our helplessness,

Remember him hanging there.

We have purchased the spices

But they must wait for tomorrow.

We shall keep today

For emptiness and sorrow. Elizabeth Rooney (1924-99)