Holy Week came and went in a flash. For me, this was my first time attending all Triduum services. Among the behind-the-scenes chaos, I found it difficult to remain present throughout the week. I was tasked with gallery organizing for the week, which turned out to be a bigger job that I thought. During each service, I was constantly going over a mental checklist: Did I put the right pieces of music in the choir binders? Did the organist have the correct music? What is the next piece we are singing? How do I change the music quickly and efficiently between masses?
To further exacerbate my difficulty focusing, we had the honor of having our Good Friday service live-streamed on RTE. This exciting opportunity was accompanied with a full run-through two hours prior to the service. It was an incredible opportunity—I can now say that I have been on TV in Ireland!—but I found that I was constantly worried about logistics, rather than being immersed in the service through prayer and song.
I know I wasn’t the only one to struggle with this throughout the week, but it made me feel a little lame. After all, I’m working in the church during the holiest week of the entire year. I should be constantly immersed in prayer, and my first real experience with the Triduum should be powerful. However, the logistics of the week constantly overshadowed my personal prayer life during work hours.
Despite this struggle for prayer during the services of the week, I found the most powerful experience in a simple moment after the Easter Vigil. The House of Brigid girls, the NDNC staff (and spouses), Fr. Mark, and our trusted altar server Adam gathered in the office to celebrate our hard work and the joyous resurrection of Jesus from the tomb. We shared homemade baked goods, laughed, and simply enjoyed being together. After the stress of the week, it was a gift to just sit with one another. In that moment, I realized that even when I struggled to feel fully present during the liturgies, the joy of Easter still found me—in community, in laughter, and in the quiet relief of being together after it all.
It reminded me that prayer doesn’t always look the way we expect it to. Sometimes, it’s not found in perfect focus or stillness, but in the small, human moments that follow—the ones filled with joy, relief, and gratitude. Even in the midst of distraction and responsibility, God was still present, working through it all. Maybe that is part of what makes Holy Week so meaningful.
