The Church has a remarkable way of teaching us through signs. Sometimes those signs are grand and unmistakable. Other times they are small customs that quietly shape how we enter into a season. Two beautiful traditions help us move from Ordinary Time into the penitential season of Lent: burying the Alleluia and burning last year’s palms.
Throughout most of the year, the word Alleluia is a constant companion to our prayer. It is the Church’s great shout of joy—an ancient Hebrew expression meaning “Praise the Lord!” We sing it before the Gospel, we hear it in hymns, and it appears again and again in the liturgy.
Then Lent begins, and suddenly it disappears.
The Church sets aside the Alleluia as a way of marking a change in tone. Lent is a season of repentance, reflection, and preparation. By fasting even from this joyful word, we become more aware of what we long to hear again.
In some places, parishes mark this transition with the custom of “burying” the Alleluia. A banner or plaque with the word may be processed out of the church, placed away, or even symbolically buried until it returns in triumphant song at the Easter Vigil. Its absence makes the heart grow fonder. And when the Alleluia bursts forth again at Easter, it feels earned, powerful, and new.
Another tradition connects one Lent to the next.
On Palm Sunday, we hold branches in our hands and join the crowd that welcomed Christ into Jerusalem. Over the year those palms are often kept in homes, tucked behind crucifixes or holy pictures as reminders of that celebration.
But what happens to them after a year has passed?
Rather than discarding a blessed object, the Church reverently burns the old palms. Their ashes are then used on Ash Wednesday to mark our foreheads with the sign of repentance: “Remember that you are dust…”
In this way, the triumphal entry of Jesus becomes the doorway to Lent. Celebration leads to conversion. The symbol comes full circle.
Neither of these practices is strictly required, yet both carry deep meaning. They remind us that liturgy is not only something we think about—it is something we experience with our senses and live with our bodies. We put away a word of joy so that we may hunger for its return. We burn the branches of welcome so that they may become the ashes of renewal. And through it all, the Church gently leads us toward Easter.
Join us on Monday February 16th at 6pm at the entrance of the church for a short service to do both of these customs. We hope to see you there.