When you have small children, the decision of what to do for Easter Mass is not an easy one. What do you choose? The less crowded Easter Vigil that will be longer or the shorter Easter Sunday Mass which will be packed?

Well, we took the risk this year and chose A. But we chose A at the Church of DIgnified Efficient LIturgy, thinking that for sure this priest would not go for all nine readings (ordinarily a good thing, of course, but when you have the Little One Factor, you take a break from the ideal for a few years) and would not have scores of folks entering the Church (many, I think, are sent to a neighboring parish for their full RCIA program, which this parish doesn’t have).

More on that later.

Our other burning question concerned the fire – as it was for many of you, it was cold, cold, cold up here Saturday night. As we left Mass, I overheard one man say to another, "I feel like I should be saying ‘Merry Christmas,’ not ‘Happy Easter." Exactly. Would we gather outside for the fire? In the cold?

Answer – no. There was a small, burning brazier set up in the very tiny narthex of this gothic structure. We couldn’t see it, but we could hear the prayers and hear the fruitless clicking of the lighter and the priest mutter, "This isn’t going to light." Bonus! Ah, but it did light, finally, and the procession with the Paschal candle began. They underbought congregational candles, so we, getting there at the last minute, didn’t get any, which was probably, in retrospect, a good thing.

Remember, this is the church at which we’d attended Holy Thursday, and on that day, after the Gloria, the musical instruments were silenced. The silence was maintained on Saturday, up through the Gloria.

So. We settle for the readings, again, assuming Fr. Six-Minute Homily would surely not do all of them. Genesis 1. Check. Gn. 22. Okay. Ex. 14. O-kay…Isaiah 54…They’re doing them all…Katie whispers. Obviously. So…will the 2-year old endure?

Mercifully, I discovered something that did, insure that he endured. I had blank pieces of paper for him and Joseph to color on, but I put Michael on my lap, and I started drawing for him. Trains, Dinosaurs..anything I could think of. He was entranced, motionless and absolutely silence except when he whispered what he wanted me to draw next. At one point Katie took over and started sketching something and I said, "Draw slowly."

It worked. Through all the readings and more. My hopes are raised for the future, but I also have learned from experience that what works this week will be useless next.

So, all nine readings were well-proclaimed. The responsorial psalms alternated between sung (again, no intrumentation – and the setting were just those that were in the missalette) and spoken. At the Gloria, the bells rang and the organ could open up again.

There was to be, as it turned out, one new Catholic at this Mass – an older middle-aged fellow with white hair and a beard who was baptized, confirmed and received Eucharist. Wonderful. The litanies were simply chanted, no instrumentation. Asperges Me, Domine was sung by the cantor during the sprinkling, and Mass proceeded as usual. Unfortunately, the Latin Sanctus and Agnus Dei in use during Lent were gone, replaced by the to my mind largely unsingable settings used in that parish that I’ve never heard anywhere else.

On of the most welcome aspects of the three liturgies I attended for the Triduum…no explanations. No one stood up there explaining why things would be different tonight, and exactly how they would be different, and making sure we knew the page and song number, or why we were doing this or that. We got started praying, and we were allowed to continue, as adults, trusting our own common sense and the ritual to get us through. Very much appreciated. As is the hard work of all priests, deacons, liturgical ministers, and musicians during this past week. Thank God for them all!

The church was about half full, I’d say. Gold and white bunting glittered,  and we were sent forth to live in the reality and hope of the Risen Christ, out into the world, which met us with a slap of chill wind, bracing, challenging us to let the fire keep burning and the light continuing to shine.