Laetare Sunday every year marks what the French call “mi-carême”, mid-Lent. It gets its name from the first words of the Introit of the Day: “Laetare, Jerusalem”: Rejoice, O Jerusalem: and come together all you who love her; rejoice with joy, you who have been in sorrow.” So on this Sunday in Lent we set aside the Roman purple vestments for rose vestments, a sign of the relaxation of the rigors of Lent. We also hear the organ for the first time played outside of accompanying a hymn. Flowers appear on the high altar. There is a subdued joy that is a hint of Easter to come.
So often this Sunday occurs at the beginning of Spring, when the shoots of daffodils and hyacinths are promises of the bursting forth of nature from the tomb of Winter. It is said that the Roman Christians would give each other roses at this time as symbols of the feast of the Resurrection to come. Some say that this is the origin of the rose vestments worn on this Sunday. Others say that it was on this Sunday that the Pope blessed the roses that he would send to Catholic kings and queens as a sign of the soon to be celebrated Feast of the Resurrection.
The traditional gospel for this Sunday is the feeding of the five thousand by the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes by Christ. The catechumens heard this with joy, for this Gospel is an anticipation of the Eucharist, that heavenly manna that serves as the supernatural food of the baptized.
It always saddens me that in reality Laetare Sunday for the great majority of Catholics is not part of their experience. The radical overhaul of the lectionary in the Novus Ordo form completely eliminated any rational or traditional basis for the celebration of Laetare Sunday. The color rose can still be worn on the Fourth Sunday in Lent in the Novus Ordo, but it has no grounding in the Tradition. It is a tradition without Tradition.
But tomorrow we return to the rigors of Lent. And these rigors must be more rigorous than before. And this rigor has nothing to do with a religiously effete program of self-actualization. It has all to do with a weak and sinful man or woman trying to reach down deep into those caverns of ourselves and by the grace of God subdue in some way those fleshly appetites that block growth in the Spirit. And yet we look forward in the deepest way even beyond Easter to that time and place in eternity that shall surely be where we are finally At Home.
Jerusalem, my happy home,
when shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
Thy joys, when shall I see?
O happy harbor of the saints,
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow may be found,
no grief, no care, no toil.
Thy saints are crowned with glory great;
they see God face to face;
they triumph still, they still rejoice:
most happy is their case.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
God grant that I may see
thine endless joy, and of the same
partaker ever be!
