Lent and Feast Days

Images in the big chapel veiled for Passion Week

My memories of Lent at the mission are quite distinct. It was the "end of the beginning" of my time at the mission. When I look back on it, there is a line in my memory that comes around Easter, which I later realized was about the half way point. 

A priest who had been to Gabon told me before I left not to take on any voluntary penances while I was there--life would offer enough involuntary ones! I wasn't sure if that was meant to include Lent as well, but in any case, I did try to "give up English" for Lent and only speak French unless it was absolutely necessary. It didn't work. 

The fasting required by the Diocese of Mouila was no more strict than that in the United States. I was honestly a bit disappointed; I wanted the old "no-meat-no-eggs-no-dairy-for-40-days" Lent. But, disappointment and eating what you're served is a pretty good penance, too. 

On Ash Wednesday (Mercredi des Cendres), we had morning Mass with the imposition of ashes, then a small breakfast of plain bread and the usual hot chocolate (as Catholics, we are required to fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. We are permitted one full meal and two small meals, "sufficient to maintain one's strength", all without meat). Lunch was our full meal: fried plantains, rice, a sort of tomato and onion salsa, and St. Peter's fish (pan-fried whole tilapia). Dinner was soup (nice and thick; it reminded me of split pea soup) and bread. 

Every Friday at 3 p.m., we had Stations of the Cross (Chemin de la Croix) in the big chapel. At the end, whichever priest had led us would then give a blessing with a relic of the True Cross. After that, we sang the beautiful hymn Victoire: "Victoire! Tu regnera! O Croix, tu nous sauvera." (Victory! Thou shalt reign! O Cross, thou shalt save us.) 

That was another great part of living such a Catholic life: I could take a nap from 2:00 to 2:50 and still be on time for Stations!

I remember the feast of St. Patrick at the mission-- mainly how little attention it got! Mass that morning would have been for the Lenten feria (weekday), with the prayers for the commemoration of St. Patrick, at that was all. 

Fond memories of choir practice during that time come to mind. We sang several French hymns that I grew to love and still remember, and also started practicing for Holy Week and Easter. 

This was also the time of four major feast days: St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Joseph, St. Benedict and the Annunciation. Being who I am, I made dessert for a couple of them. The biggest hit was an apple pie (talk about American!) for St. Thomas Aquinas. One of the seminary candidates had asked me if I knew how to make it, and I realized that it would be very easy to do at the mission (butter, flour, sugar, apples, water-- we have those!). So I did it. 

We had a lovely dinner that evening, complete with wine. 

I tried making brownies later, which didn't turn out as well due to the absence of vanilla. Artificial strawberry flavoring just isn't the same... 

Laetarae Sunday was very festive, starting Saturday night. Our oblate Paul was given a pair of new dress shoes from somewhere and wanted to take a picture.

We were at the height of guava season. After Mass on Sunday, we found ourselves having an impromptu harvest party.

They don't seem to care that he's falling out of the tree...

That was also the day I had snake for the first time. The brother of our oblate Dieu-Vivant (the one falling out of the tree in the picture) killed a python that Saturday and we got a piece of it. 

The next day, there was owl, but I sadly never got to try it. 

On the feast of St. Joseph, we had Mass in the evening in the big chapel. One of the oblates said it would be too hot (the big chapel isn't air conditioned). Canon Sigros basically told him to stop complaining-- no one has to wear, and thus sweat, more during Mass than the priest!

The next week, we had lizard, which was amazing, too!

The day after the lizard was the feast of St. Benedict. Canon Sigros, Maman Noëline and our driver, Jimmy, were going shopping after lunch. Canon asked it I wanted to go, "Because I think the whole time you are here you not go out." It was true. I had been there for two months and hadn't left the mission. So I got to go.

First stop was a "general store", where we bought several cases of the drinks we had for our aperitif several times a week. 

Not yet downtown.  

I don't think I'll trust them to do my hair.

We stopped at a hardware store where Canon was looking for supplies for Holy Week. 

Then we headed into town. 

The market "downtown" was like an open-air shopping mall. The roads are dirt (or mud), the shops are open to the street with concrete floors. 

Fish, honey, peanuts... sounds like a Gabonese dinner. 

Hobby Lobby! We needed fabric. 

After a couple more errands, we stopped at a hairdresser, as Canon needed a hairdryer for the Paschal candle he was working on. The same couple that owned the hair salon had a sort of tavern connected to it. It was the feast of St. Benedict, so Canon bought us all beer. 

La bière du Gabon!

Then we headed home!

Earlier that day, one of the oblates had found a puppy, who moved in for a couple days. 

For the feast day, and as the school was on break, we had ice cream and watched a movie that evening. I held the puppy at the same time, which was a very nice combination.

The last feast we had before Holy Week was Annunciation. It was on a Thursday, so we had Adoration from after Mass (which was later than usual) until Benediction at 6 p.m. It proved to be the most exciting Benediction I have ever been to.

Canon told us at lunch that day that we would have solemn Benediction that evening. That meant that Victor, our usual choir director and organist (not that we had an organ, just an electric keyboard), would be needed in the sanctuary to act as the deacon. It also meant that I would then have to play the keyboard.

Sure, not an issue. Except that after I agreed, I realized that, one, we didn't have music for me to play from, two, I don't improvise well, and three, the power was out, so I couldn't practice. 

The power did come on about 15 minutes before Benediction, so I had a little time to practice. There was one particular version of the Tantum Ergo I found I could accompany (all I had was the chant notation) and we didn't use the same tune every week, so I thought it would work.

At the actual Benediction, the first thing that happened (which I learned later) was that the clasp fell off the cope (the cape the priest wears for a number of liturgical functions). Then, some of the silk flowers on the altar caught fire from being too close to the candles; I looked up to see one of the altar boys carrying out a vase of smoldering flowers. Then we got to the Tantum Ergo. I played the first few notes for Victor to intone... and he started singing a different tune. I gave up.

On my way to the terrace later that evening, I got this picture:

Before we had our aperitif, we watched the end of a soccer game, Gabon versus the Congo (our candidate Modeste is from the Congo). Gabon won, 3-0.

We then arrived at Holy Week. The day before Palm Sunday, Canon told the guys to get the palms ready for the next day's Mass. In the States, that means open the boxes from the Catholic supply company. Here, it meant take machetes and chop branches off of palm trees.

Palm Sunday was a beautiful albeit very warm day (in the morning--the evening brought a storm).

There is nothing like liturgical precessions in the middle of the African jungle. We had been practicing the music for that Mass for a couple weeks, at least, and it was glorious. 

In the liturgy for Palm Sunday in what we call the Pre-55 Roman missal (the Holy Week liturgies were reformed in 1955), the procession goes outside the church, then the doors are closed while two cantors remain inside. When the procession returns to the doors, the cantors and those outside chant back and forth to each other the Gloria Laus, a hymn of Our Lord's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. At the end, the altar boy who is carrying the crucifix raps on the doors with the base of the poll the crucifix is on. The cantors are supposed to immediately open the doors.

Our cantors (The Two Victors) thought it was three times. So, François rapped on the door... and we stood there. Until Dieu-Vivant went up to the door and argued with the cantors for a minute through the slats until they got the idea. 

Now we had entered Holy Week, with its mountains of musical and liturgical planning and rehearsals, all to make the Triduum the most beautiful prayer we knew how. 

That prayer was so beautiful, it will get its own post!