The Paschal Triduum & the Altars of Repose

At the start of the Lenten journey, 40 days seemed like a long time. But while they passed too quickly, I look forward now to these holy days of the Paschal Triduum. Each year I marvel at the graces that flow during each of the Holy Week observations.

A year ago I made my first Holy Thursday pilgrimage to seven “Altars of Repose.” Here is a story I wrote about my experience.

Spending time with our Lord: Visit to seven Altars of Repose an ancient tradition

BROWNSVILLE — This past Triduum my husband and I shared a new pilgrimage experience, new to us as it is actually an ancient tradition of visiting seven Altars of Repose on Holy Thursday. The practice is linked to the early Christian custom of visiting sites which were significant to Christ’s Passion.

In Rome, pilgrims visit seven basilicas (St. Peter, St. Paul Outside the Wall, St. John Lateran, St. Mary Major, Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, St. Lawrence Outside the Walls and St. Sebastian). In recent times, when seven churches are not possible, making it to at least three suffices.

I had heard about the tradition, but had not paid much attention until an intern last year recounted how he and his friends delighted in their visit from one church to the next. Bishop Emeritus Raymundo J. Peña for years practiced the tradition, and Bishop Daniel E. Flores shared photos of his own visits on his blog one year.

Bishop Flores said it gives him great joy to see how the faithful prepare a place to receive the Lord after the Sacrament is taken in procession at the end the Holy Thursday liturgy, and to see young people and families spending time in adoration and prayer. The procession with the Sacrament symbolizes the Lord going out to face the Passion.

For my husband and me it was a grace-filled experience and a perfect start to the Triduum. God’s graces overflowed that evening as we visited the Altars of Repose at seven different churches. We started at the Immaculate Conception Cathedral in Brownsville and made our way to our home parish St. Anthony Church in Harlingen. My husband and I chose churches that connected us to our families and sacraments. 

Among the churches we visited were Our Lady of Guadalupe Church where I was baptized; St. Joseph Church where my husband received all his sacraments of initiation and St. Luke Church, my parish church until I moved away and where we were married 26 years ago. The pilgrimage filled us with immense joy. We also visited Holy Family Church in Brownsville and St. Benedict Church in San Benito.

As empty nesters we are still adjusting to our children, young adults now, living away from home. I miss our family tradition of walking the Stations of the Cross together on Good Friday and preparing Easter baskets and painting cascarones in the days leading up to Easter.

Our Thursday pilgrimage took us on a nostalgic “This is your life” tour. Fue un recordido de memorias. As we visited the different churches in Brownsville we drove past places bursting with history from our youth and growing years. We drove by both our elementary schools and playgrounds that are nearly gone now; we passed by my husband’s middle school and our high school – Homer Hanna High; we passed by old neighborhoods, favorite hamburger joints, streets where I learned to drive.

Each Altar of Repose afforded us time with Christ, time for prayer, and time to remember the blessings in our lives, and always the Lord was at our side. During our drive time from one church to the next, we shared stories and talked about how some things have changed and how some remain intact.

Some churches felt particularly like home. At Our Lady of Guadalupe Church, where I was baptized, I could hear my mother’s voice. I remember the pews we sat in at the time toward the back of the church. I remember she pointed to the altar and told me Christ was behind the closed doors in the gold tabernacle. “Ahi esta Cristo,” she said. Maybe I was four or five. I remember I puzzled about her comment for a long time, trying in my child’s mind to make sense of what she meant.

I wanted to spend more time in each of the churches, but conscious of the time, we had to move on to make sure we made it to all seven before midnight when Adoration ends on Holy Thursday. Each altar was surrounded with bouquets of flowers and candles that flickered to give light in the darkness. Each carefully prepared and adorned so that the faithful could spend time in silence and meditation before the Lord. No one was sleeping. Everyone was keeping watch in the “Garden of Gethsemane.”

Along the way we saw people we knew who were taking part of the ancient tradition of visiting the different Altars of Repose that evening. You could feel the joy that lifted each of us on our Maundy Thursday pilgrimage.

At St. Luke Church, it was comforting to hear the familiar voice of Helen Vargas, who was leading the children in prayer before the Altar or Repose. It felt like home. Helen was my confirmation teacher and the choir director 32 years ago when I attended there. How beautiful that she continues to teach new generations the traditions of our faith.

When we arrived in Harlingen, we ended at St. Anthony Catholic Church, our home parish where our son and daughter received their sacraments. The Altar of Repose was set up in the original church which is now used as a parish hall and as a cafeteria for the Catholic school. The doors opened out to the street where passing cars could glimpse the glimmering candles before the Blessed Sacrament.

What a blessing to see so many keeping watch with Christ, and continuing the ancient tradition. Our pilgrimage reaffirmed how God has been constant in our lives and remains so. I pray for the grace to honor the days he provides and that I may be constant in my attempts to listen and follow his direction in the days to come. 

(Originally published in May 2014 edition of The Valley Catholic newspaper)