Easter

Anh Thu

Living at college, home cooking has become a rare blessing.  It was the highlight of my days - divulging in Vietnamese cuisine instead of the same mass-produced pizzas and “wings n’ things” offered at school.  Granted everyone liked pizza and chicken, but one can only tolerate so much of it for a few weeks or months before craving for some real food.  And so, I looked forward to going home Easter Sunday to eat home cooked Vietnamese cuisines.

Coming home that morning, I was fortunate to have my grandma there to feed me.   Alas, I could eat rice again (I had given that up for Lent), and it was yummy.   That afternoon before mass, we prepared for our youth group’s annual festivities - games and an egg hunt for kids 0-12 years of age in our community.  It was fun to be home, playing with the kids, because I hadn’t been around since Lunar New Year.  Everyone warmly greeted me with, “long-time-no-see,” and it was nice to be a part of this community again.  Even though I barely helped decorate or prepare the food, I knew that I was still welcome.  After mass, it was such a treat to eat phở at our choir’s fund-raising dinner, which marks my first dinner for the night.  After that, family and friends came over to my house, and like many Vietnamese households, my parents felt compelled to feed everyone again.  Of course, I had no problem with that.  So, I got to eat my second dinner at the young adult’s table.  This time, it was Thai food (yummy again!).  My third dinner was Vietnamese food, in my parents’ company.

This holiday was extra special due to Holy Mass from Holy Thursday to Easter Sunday.  God has touched me and has spoken to me during these days.  Instead of being a chore, church was a big celebration - an opportunity to return to the Father in an intimate way, by remembering His passion, death, and resurrection.  When I was younger, I never fully understood mass or the passion (and I still don’t have a firm grasp on the power and significance of all this now), but God has worked in mysterious ways to reveal Himself to me when I attended these services.  Regardless of my life’s busy-ness, peace and contentment overcame me and stayed with me, which I can only attribute to the Lord.  And so, during the Lenten season, I looked forward to the triduum to be close to God and to commemorate His love for us.

On Holy Thursday, we reenacted the washing of the feet.  Before the Lord’s Supper, Jesus “knew that the Father had given Him complete power.  He knew that they had come from God and was going to God.  So He rose from the table, took off His outer garment, and tied a towel around His waist.  Then He poured water into a washbasin and began to wash the disciples” feet and dried them with the towel around his waist” (John 13:3-5).  By doing a servantile task such as washing feet, despite knowing He had “complete power,” Jesus showed us His humility and the depth of His love.

When watching the priests perform this ritual, it brought back memories.  Two summers ago, I  experienced the washing of feet at a retreat, and it made me realize the significance of what Jesus did that night.   At the retreat, members of the youth group gathered and performed the ceremony, washing the feet of the fellow members who had become friends and family to each other.  Each person’s feet were washed by someone else, just as Jesus had done for His disciples two thousand years ago.  Similarly, each person washed a fellow being’s feet.  It was a humbling experience.  To witness my friend kneel before me and wash my feet, I initially felt awkward.  I felt undeserving, because friends don’t usually do things like that for each other.  I suppose I wasn’t accustomed to such display of affection.  The awkwardness deepened when my friend started telling me how much I meant to her.  I felt her pure love for me through her act of service and words of kindness.  Indeed, a rare bonding moment.  After shedding a few happy tears, I picked up the jug of water, the basin, and a towel and proceeded to transfer that love to my good cousin.

This ritual made me realize that I had often overlooked the washing of feet in the bible, and probably many other things written in it as well.  I did not understand it until I experienced it first-hand from a fellow friend and sister in Christ.  I wondered if my feelings were similar to the apostles - when Jesus washed their feet - surprised, completely humbled, and awed.  I realized that love is service and meekness, as exemplified by Jesus.  Alas, I can share it with others now.

So during mass that evening, remembrance of two summers past drifted into my mind and helped me appreciate what Jesus had done that night.  I thanked God for setting a wonderful example for us and for giving me the opportunity to attend retreats and holy mass, to be in His presence and to celebrate His passion.  Nothing compares to all this, even Vietnamese food :o).