Psalming the tomb

I just completed my thirty minute vigil over the tomb of Christ in the chapel, where we all take turns coming in all throughout the night and chanting psalms over the mock tomb in the middle of the chapel before Pascha. It's one of my favorite times of the year. You're there in the crisp morning air, in the austerity of a wood floored chapel, with nothing but a candle to illuminate the darkness, reading the ancient prayers of God over his entombed body, making alive once again the sorrow of feeling that all is lost and the one whom you thought was the messiah is dead, but also awaiting the resurrection that makes all things new.

I was especially entreated since I entoned the Psalms 10-25. There are some real gems in there, especially 22. For some odd reason I connected more than normal tonight with the sinner in need of penance. I guess this year has, if nothing else, made me comfortable with my identity as a forgiven sinner, while a sinner nonetheless.

Entoning prayers is so different from 'saying' prayers, and never more so than when one finds oneself alone with only the ancient Psalms and the still presence of God, before the dawn has broken through the dark, surrounded by candle light.