By: David Ducote, Deacon, Archdiocese of New Orleans
Yes. You did read that right. I recently had the great privilege of joining seven of my brother deacons on a special pilgrimage to the Holy Land before our ordination this upcoming summer. Words truly cannot describe how amazing this pilgrimage was: watching the sun rise over the Sea of Galilee, preaching on my thirtieth birthday on the Mount of Beatitudes where Jesus preached the world’s greatest sermon, walking in the footsteps of our Lord on the Via Dolorosa, praying Morning Prayer next to the pillar where Jesus was scourged with the Kyrie Eleison being chanted in the background. But by far the most memorable part for me was being locked in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher for an all night vigil in the place where our Lord was crucified, died, and rose from dead.
At around 7:00 pm myself and three of my fellow pilgrims looked on as the giant grey doors to this ancient church were ceremoniously closed and locked with us on the inside. After a long day of visiting the site where our Lord was born and the hill country where Mary visited Elizabeth, I have to admit that I was a little worried if I would be able to stay awake the whole night. I had to chuckle when I thought about Jesus’ question to his apostles “Could you not keep watch with me for one hour?” (Matthew 26:40). I thought, “Well, yes, Lord, I can keep watch for one hour, but this is eight!” Of course, that was just the fatigue talking. We decided to begin our vigil with a holy hour in Jesus’ empty tomb. Bent over and crouching I walked through the low marble doorway into the small rectangular room where our Lord was laid after being taken down from his cross trying not to hit my head. I was immediately struck by this. Here, in this most sacred of places, the only way to enter is by an act of humility. How appropriate that his disciples humble themselves before entering the place where our Lord lay after “he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8). I couldn’t help but think about Mary Magdalene coming to anoint the body of her savior walking into that same tomb only to find him gone. Or of Peter and John running to this very place after hearing the news and finding the burial shroud laying on the slab without a body and the head covering bundled up in the corner. I fell to my knees and placed my hands on the marble slab and closed my eyes. There I remained, saying nothing, taking in the peace and solitude of that place.
After leaving the tomb I climbed the steep stairs up to the foot of the cross. I can’t even begin to describe the emotions I felt in looking at the very rock which was once splattered with the precious Blood of my Lord. I did three things while here. First, I lay prostrate in front of the altar laying down my life for the one who laid down his life for me. In a few months I will do this very thing again as I lay prostrate in St. Louis Cathedral at my ordination. Then, when I rose again to my knees I prayed a Chaplet of Divine Mercy. I can’t begin to describe how much the words “Eternal Father, I offer you the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of your dearly-beloved Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ, in atonement for our sins and those of the whole world” came alive for me since it was here that Christ offered himself up for the sins of the world. Then to conclude the vigil I made an examination of conscience looking at the ways I contributed to the pain and suffering our Lord endured on this very rock and went to confession. Every time we go to confession we lay our sins at the foot of the cross and here I was literally laying my sins at the foot of the cross beseeching the Lord for his mercy and forgiveness.
When the doors opened again I have to confess there was a little sense of relief, but at the same time it was impossible not to be moved to the core of my very being. How much has he given for me and how little am I willing to give for him? How much does he thirst for me and how little do I thirst for him? I couldn’t help but weep at my own weakness and selfishness in the face of his strength and selflessness. Now as I enter into my final semester before being ordained a priest I feel rejuvenated and ready to begin my new life as a priest of Jesus Christ. I pray that I will receive the grace to live up to the responsibilities that I will be taking on as his priest and I look forward in a new way to serving him and his people.
About the Author: David Ducote, Deacon, Archdiocese of New Orleans
Deacon David is currently in his final year of theological studies at Notre Dame Seminary. He was born and raised in the New Orleans metropolitan area and has resided there his whole life. Deacon David entered Notre Dame Seminary for the Archdiocese of New Orleans in 2010 after completing his B.S. degree in Mechanical Engineering at the University of New Orleans. He was ordained to the Diaconate on May 23, 2015 and will be ordained a priest on June 4, 2016.
Disclaimer
All opinions published by the authors on this blog are solely those of the authors. Although the goal is that they should, they do not necessarily express the views and opinions of the Archdiocese of New Orleans, Notre Dame Seminary, the Church, or their respective dioceses and bishops.
Notre Dame Seminary and the Archdiocese of New Orleans are not responsible for the comments of commenters, although every effort will be made to remove offensive comments.
If you should find an error or offensive content, please email the NDS Blog editorial team.