This is the day

One of the things I love about the week after Easter is that the Church relates to each day of the octave as though it is Easter Day.  In the Preface of Easter I, the priest is directed to pray during the octave: “We praise you with greater joy than ever on this Easter day when Christ became our paschal sacrifice.”  (Unfortunately most of the priests where I attend daily Mass pray “in this Easter season.”)  In the Liturgy of the Hours, we pray Morning, Evening, and Night Prayer of Easter Day all week.  To me this is a foretaste of heaven when each day will be as the first.  “This is the day the Lord has made.  Let us be glad and rejoice in it!”

This is the day

One of the things I love about the week after Easter is that the Church relates to each day of the octave as though it is Easter Day.  In the Preface of Easter I, the priest is directed to pray during the octave: “We praise you with greater joy than ever on this Easter day when Christ became our paschal sacrifice.”  (Unfortunately most of the priests where I attend daily Mass pray “in this Easter season.”)  In the Liturgy of the Hours, we pray Morning, Evening, and Night Prayer of Easter Day all week.  To me this is a foretaste of heaven when each day will be as the first.  “This is the day the Lord has made.  Let us be glad and rejoice in it!”

The Homecoming

Still thinking a lot about our Homeland, and, of course, about my aunt’s journey there.  I was thumbing through my collection of Jessica Power’s poetry and found this most apt poem.  (Poetry is one of the solaces in my life.)

Return of the prodigal son (Tissot)

The Homecoming

The spirit, newly freed from earth,
is all amazed at the surprise
of her belonging: suddenly
as native to eternity
to see herself, to realize
the heritage that lets her be
at home where all this glory lies.

By naught foretold could she have guessed
such welcome home: the robe, the ring,
music and endless banqueting,
these people hers; this place of rest
known, as of long remembering
herself a child of God and pressed
with warm endearments to His breast.

            ~Jessica Powers, The Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers, p. 53

The same will be true for us: the robe, the ring, the banqueting, and best of all, the warm endearments as we are pressed to His breast.