“Cilice”
What I thought it meant: A seasoning derived from peppers, prevalent in Mediterranean cuisine.
Mother Agatha put a teaspoon of cilice in the orphans’ soup.
What it really means: A piece of clothing or accessory worn to cause discomfort or pain as an act of repentance or atonement for sins.
The nuns had made the broth so spicy, consuming the entire bowl was as penitential as wearing a cilice.
“Oblate”
What I thought it meant: A muscle located in the torso.
After a day of digging wells in Sudan, Vivian’s oblate ached.
What it really means: A lay person dedicated to religious work or the religious life.
Despite her soreness, the oblate prayed to the Lord to give her strength to continue shoveling.
“Extreme Unction”
What I thought it meant: An urgent or desperate need or desire for something.
Because of a heart condition, his restrictive diet gave him an extreme unction for a cheeseburger.
What it really means: Also known as “Last Rites” or “Anointing of the Sick,” it is one of the seven Sacraments; it is administered to give spiritual (and even physical) strength to those who are in imminent danger of death.
After Father anointed him with his Extreme Unction, the dying man entreated his physicians for a final meal of a Big Mac and super-sized fries.
The night of the Last Supper, Jesus instituted the Eucharist. It was also in this same night He started the priesthood. We saw our priests remove their chasubles and lower themselves before their parishioners to wash their feet, a poignant symbol that our priests were called to humbly serve us, to be the least, just as Jesus taught.
After Adoration in the hall, I joined a handful of my students and fellow Youth Ministers in an adjacent classroom to watch The Passion of the Christ. One of our priests, on his way back to the hall after changing out of his liturgical vestments, stopped by to greet us. He realized what we were watching and decided to join us instead. He pulled up a dinky kindergartner-sized seat (and Father is a very, very tall man) and sat down.
Now I started worrying because Father (who besides being really tall is very, very knowledgeable) knows the adults in that room were all involved with the teaching of the kids in there; I didn’t know where he stood in regards to the appropriateness of the film for our teenagers, nor if he had seen it before and given his okay in terms of its consistency with the teachings of our Church. I was just waiting for him to exclaim “heresy!” and shut down the movie–then set us adults straight.
But he didn’t. Tall and intelligent Father in his flowing black cassock sat in that kindergartner’s seat the whole way through, his eyes fixed on the screen, his hands tented in front of his lips as if praying. When it was finished, when the lights were turned on, I saw Father’s eyes. He had been crying.
In the Gospel of John, of which most of the film was taken, Pilate sent Jesus to be scourged. It was quite a gruesome scene: a fitting reminder of just how much He endured for us. When Jesus was returned to face Pilate and the gathered crowd, He was beaten and bloodied, barely able to stand. Pilate addressed the crowd, pointing at Jesus, pleading with them to show clemency at their prisoner who had been more than justly punished. He said, “Ecce homo” –behold the man–that here was the evidence they were looking for that Jesus was not the Messiah He claimed to be, but a mere mortal susceptible to pain and wounds, to suffering. Behold the man. Only a man.
When I looked at Father crying, those were the words in my head. Ecce homo. I forget sometimes that he, too, is a fragile human being like me.
But, like Christ, is also much more.
“Doxology”
What I thought it meant: The study of docks.
The helmsman barely passed his doxology lesson.
What it really means: A hymn or verse glorifying God.
After narrowly averting crashing into the pier, the helmsman exclaimed a doxology.
Not more than five minutes ago, I was having this conversation with a good friend and fellow Catholic about tonight’s Holy Thursday activities at our parish.
Following the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, the tabernacle is going to be emptied and the Eucharist exposed for Adoration in the adjacent hall. This will go on until midnight, and all are encouraged to keep Him company for those few hours. In one of the classrooms of the school, they will be screening Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, to keep the kids occupied, or for whoever else wants to meditate upon the day of sorrow that is shortly coming.
All this in remembrance of Jesus’ final hours, beginning with the Last Supper, His agony in the garden, the Apostles falling asleep on Him, and then His arrest. The empty tabernacle is observed in the Church worldwide.
I asked my friend: “Are you ready for dinner and a movie with Jesus tonight?”
“For sure!”
“Ya know, Holy Thursday is kinda like His going away party. But He’ll only be gone for three days.”
[Laughter here.]
Of course, we’re going to have an even bigger celebration when He comes back.
