It might seem a bit late to be writing about Palm Sunday, but I was too depressed yesterday to give it a go. Coronavirus has stripped away so many things from our lives, but across the world, losing Holy Week: Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter, seems a very big price.
Some priests defied orders and held mass. My church was not one of these, nor would I have attended had there been a mass. I am not that brave, not that foolhardy, and not that indifferent to my neighbors and healthcare workers that I’d defy our lawmakers to do so.
Still, in my heart, I mourned the passing of a lovely holiday. There were consolations, however: mass from the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception on TV. Glorious voices from an a cappella group spaced six feet apart and priests who offered mass to an empty, cathedral-sized basilica, both filled me with sorrow, and let me marvel at the closeup views of cardinals and church architecture I never could see when attending in person. The readings and lecture were tremendously poignant in this time of global suffering.
I was also heartened by my family in Italy, all sharing photos of green foliage posted by doors and windows — whatever bit of greenery they could find — as a symbol of the palms they could not bring home from their churches. I loved seeing videos of priests holding mass on rooftops and people straining to hear from balconies. Doing whatever they could to celebrate the day.
In my late, but heartfelt tribute to everyone who missed Palm Sunday, I am reposting this piece I wrote a few years ago. I will also be posting more about Holy Week — especially the holiday traditions in Italy.
No matter your religion, we are in this fight together, and in this, the holiest week in the Christian calendar, I wish you love, I wish you health, and I bid you peace.
Hugs!
Diana Belchase
Below are my thoughts from a few years ago. I hope they bring back joyful Easter memories for you.
Today is Palm Sunday, a holiday that many Americans overlook. But in churches around the world, people gather, pray, and use palm fronds during the mass to commemorate Jesus’ triumphal entrance into Jerusalem.
Among Italian-Americans this day is a whole lot more. I remember my father making us go to a second church service if the palm fronds at the first church weren’t to his satisfaction. Then we’d spend the day making little things out of the blessed palms — heart of Jesus rings, crosses, Jacob’s ladder. He regretted not learning the things his father and grandfather used to make — little donkeys, sheep and other animals.  Continue reading HERE
