The Empty Tabernacle

"They've closed the chapel at Brideshead, Bridey and the Bishop. Mummy's requiem was the last Mass said there. 

After she was buried the priest came in ... and took out the altar stone and put it in his bag

 ... and blew out the lamp in the sanctuary, 

and left the tabernacle open and empty,

as if from now on it was always to be Good Friday." - Brideshead Revisted

Seeing the empty tabernacle and stripped altar is my favorite part of Good Friday. Like the sede vacante period, this emptiness only happens once in a while, and so is a powerful reminder of why we love the persons who normally fill that space. The dramatic, sparse mourning of the Triduum sanctifies the sorrow and loneliness that all humans experience. 

Like last year when I was newly engaged, this Lent has been full of exciting new plans that have kept me from feeling somber. But honestly, the past two years have been like one long Lent of underemployment, debt, and uncertainty. The Betrothed and I spent lonely Easters last year on different continents. We had a grainy Skype conversation and vowed "Next year, in Jerusalem!" 

On Christmas Eve, God finally answered our prayers with a job offer for me in New York. I've relocated for love, and finally live in the same state as my future husband. So now Lent is over and we are in Holy Saturday until June 15, waiting, praying, and keeping watch over empty space. I live alone in the apartment that will soon be our home. Different schedules and locations mean we often sit solo in church pews. Every weekend is a puzzle of who will drive where. It's hard for our lives to be so divided. 

The ache and emptiness that hit me when we started long-distance dating is still present. I long for unity with the man I love, and finally to share a home with him and God. I'm not a model Catholic woman, patiently suffering. Too often, I have given in to self-pity and despair. I worry that I have wasted this cross or have failed at being a witness of Christian joy. Sure, secular world, don't shack up with your beloved. Instead, be as miserable as I am! 

Fellow engaged woman Elizabeth recently pointed out that feeling a longing for marriage during the Triduum is actually quite appropriate.  Christ's Passion and Resurrection were His greatest expression of love for His bride, the Church. Why shouldn't we want the same spousal self-giving and unity? So this weekend, when I wish for the millionth time that we were married already, I'll try to unite that wishing to Christ's great desire and love for the Church. I'll think of the great mystery that The Betrothed and I will soon become united to, and its promise that God's people will not face emptiness forever. 

Photos:
1. Good Friday 2013 at Holy Innocents, Manhattan. 

2, 3, 5. Good Friday 2008 at College of William and Mary Catholic Campus Ministry Chapel, Williamsburg, VA

4. Good Friday 2013 at St. Francis Church St. Anthony Chapel, Manhattan

7 Commuting Quick Takes

Thanks to Jen for hosting the link-up! Head over to Conversion Diary for more quick takes! 

By Sophie Blackall for MTA Arts for Transit

1. I'm no stranger to commuting. My high school was a 45 minute drive from my house, so my family developed a complex "No Child Left Behind" carpool system to get there. During my volunteer year in St. Louis, every morning I would bail out of my roommate's car at a strategic red light and then hop on the Metrolink train. When I worked in DC I took my car, then a bus, and then the Metro Orange Line to get to work from my parents' house.
   
   But now I have become something else  - a New York commuter. On Christmas Eve I got the call offering me a museum job in Brooklyn. So now I finally live in the same state as The Betrothed (hooray!) and travel between New Jersey and NYC every day. E.B. White once wrote about "the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night." Gee thanks. If you had to deal with post-Sandy PATH train closures too, you'd appreciate our scrappiness more, Mr. Charlotte's Web.


2. It's funny how my attitude about working in NYC has evolved. As I was packing to leave, I was all panicky. "Ahhhhck I work in the hippest borough and everyone around me will have a fabulous Sex and the City life and all my clothes are uncool!"
   
   Then I actually rode the subway, and realized that New York is full of ordinary people just trying to get to work in practical puffy coats. Phew. 
   
   My emotions then went through this weird adjustment cycle that I've noticed every time I get to know a new city. First I am nervous and scared of dangerous things lurking around every corner. Then after a few weeks I get jaded and homesick. "This place isn't that special. They have Chipotle like everywhere else!" Then I finally do some exploring and the place starts to feel like it's mine. Maybe it was my umpteenth trip to the Trader Joe's in the 1923 bank building on Court Street, but at some point I've realized this is my town too now.


3. This piece about "How to dress like a New Yorker" is absolutely true: people choose accessories for their functionality. After a week of commuting I knew I needed to invest in some sturdy booties and a huge bag to stuff my lunch, tea thermos, and reading material in. I always scoffed at designer purses, but now I get why women invest in a solid leather handbag.
   


4. My office has been involved with a lot of the events for Grand Central Terminal's 100th birthday. It's definitely one of the best public spaces I've ever seen. The Main Concourse is so lovely it makes me cry - not just because of the gorgeous ceiling, but because I have to deal with ugly Penn Station every day! Did you know there was an earlier Penn that was also gorgeous? Legendary Gilded Age designers McKim, Mead, and White made it beautiful, and then in the 1960s they tore it down. Thanks, Madison Square Garden, thanks a lot.
   
   

   

   I could be hanging out here every day! You're killing me, smalls!

   
   The only happy ending is that Penn became a martyr for the historic preservation movement, inspiring the City to protect Grand Central from the same fate. The Garden's permit is soon up for review, and some groups are pushing for an overhaul of the whole complex.


5. I've been playing morning Tetris with my train times, trying to figure out where I can hit up daily Mass on my way to the office. Our Lady of Victory near Wall Street is close to the subway with lots of morning options. St. Francis on West 31st is famous for its convenient confession schedule. Because of when my train rolls in to Penn, I can either be early or late for one of their morning Masses. On Wednesday I caught the end of the 7am and then the beginning of the 7:30, like a kid in an old-timey movie theater. At the Offertory I ran off to work, thinking, "This is where I came in."



St. Francis of Assisi Church, from jimcintosh's Flickr stream



6. I've gotten hooked on transit maps, especially this Tumblr of them. A few weeks ago I got to hear a talk by Massimo Vignelli, the modernist designer who made a controversial NYC subway map in the late 1970s. He made an uncluttered geometric diagram, but people still wanted the twisty, wavy spaghetti strands they were used to. As he put it "When you are taking a train, how it gets from Point A to Point B is none of your business!" He was recently vindicated when the MTA realized his design was the only one that would work for a digital app. Ha.
   

   

   Via Minkwell.com

7. Of course, I see all kinds of random people on the train. In the morning on my NJ Transit platform, I hear lots of bougie First World Problems like the architect coming to fix someone's door or how there was NOWHERE to get decent lamb shanks on Friday night. The subway is more diverse, of course. Sometimes there are hipsters, sometimes packs of school kids. I wonder about the conservatively dressed lady with the black Korn backpack. Did she steal it from her son? To the similarly mom-like lady rocking the fuchsia House of Dereon bag from Newark to the World Trade Center - respect.
   
   One night taking the R train to Park Slope, I saw a guy in Timberland boots reading a book by one of my favorite college professors. "Omigosh I know that guy!" I cried out. The reader was nice but a little weirded out. I had better luck with a well dressed older couple going uptown on the 2. They reminded me of my Mom's parents. The wife was wearing a killer pair of black boots with gold sparkly rivets all up the legs. I kept sneaking peeks at them without staring. As I got off at Penn, I just turned to her and said "Ma'am, your boots are freaking awesome." She smiled and thanked me. I was glad to be a part of her own commuter stories that day. 

7 Habemus Papam Quick Takes

1. Where were you when they announced the new Pope? My sister and I had a pact that whoever heard first would text the other. I was determined to keep up my streak of seeing Habemus Papam announcements live, even though there is no TV or video streaming access in my office. So when the words "White Smoke!" exploded across Facebook, I ran for my museum's education computer lab. I watched database training videos with the Vatican YouTube feed on in the background. The only other person in there was watching RuPaul's Drag Race and probably thought I was the biggest loser ever, but I don't care. 


2. To add to my earlier analogies, I realized that getting a new Pope is like when a new baby is born into a family. Even though you have no idea about this stranger's personality or talents, you love them immediately, and know without a doubt that they belong to you all. There is something about putting on the white cassock that makes a random cardinal instantly beloved.


3. Or maybe it's the adorable awkwardness. Did you ever notice how nervous a new Pope is at first? It's not like he's a presidential candidate who's been doing photo ops for months beforehand. At Benedict XVI's inaugural Mass eight years ago he looked super tense and unsure of how to bless the cheering crowds. 


4. So when Pope Francis came out on the balcony and just stood there, I thought "Oh no, he is scared to DEATH." But then he started smiling. And cracking jokes. And talking with his hands. How could we not fall in love? He's going to do just fine.
   
   

   

   L'Ossorvatore Romano

5. The Betrothed was educated by Jesuits in New Orleans, so of course he's overjoyed that the new pontiff comes from the Society of Jesus. Right now we're  both chuckling over all the Jesuit conspiracy theories coming out of the woodwork. We're also shaking our heads at the Rad Trad internet freak-outs that a Jesuit Pope will start teaching heresy and stripping churches of anything traditional.
   
6. With all this talk of humble simplicity and Cardinal Mahony crowing on Twitter about how glad he is to be "LOW Church" again, I have only one very silly concern - *whisper* I really hope the vestments aren't ugly.There is already an entire papal sacristy of beautiful liturgical treasures that give glory to God and were crafted in love and devotion. Papa Francis could "shop his closet" for years without spending a thing.  There's a great Downton Abbey reference in this situation.
   
7. Overall I am just thrilled, excited, and overjoyed with goosebumps going down my arms. You can be sure I'll be geeking out for the inaugural Mass on Tuesday, the feast of St. Joseph. We have a new shepherd, and he comes from the Americas. He rides the bus and doesn't put on airs. He took the name of a peacemaker saint, the man to whom Christ said "Rebuild my Church." There is much rebuilding to do, and I can't wait to see how Papa Francis does it.