At the halfway point in our Lenten journey there is an underappreciated gem – Laetare Sunday.  As the Fourth Sunday in Lent, named with the Latin word for “rejoice,” this is a day with a rich past that largely goes unnoticed today. 

It is a day when the disciplines of Lent are lightened, the liturgical color changes from the violet of penitence to the color rose, symbolizing how that penitence is always permeated by the joy of Easter. 

In England and Ireland this day is also known as Mothering Sunday, a day when workers were free, originally, to visit their mother church or the cathedral. Returning home they would also see their mothers, often bringing her a geranium, a gesture which was a tradition on this day.

There were special treats called simnel cakes which added a sweet touch to the day.  From this tradition grew what we know as Mother’s Day, though, sadly, our contemporary celebration has lost the connection with the day once shared with the Blessed Mother and mother church.  I don’t think, in those days, mothers minded sharing the center of attention with these two special mothers.

This joyous center of the season also reminds us of those halfway through their preparation for the Easter Sacraments.  But there are others whose preparation gets less notice during this time.  Having just completed First Penance in most of our parishes, catechists are now turning their attention to preparing second graders for First Holy Communion.

There is not much that brings more joy than a First Holy Communion Mass, seeing the boys and girls all dressed and walking down the aisle in neat lines with their hands folded in prayer.  What I enjoyed most were the questions I would receive before First Communion.  From the parents there were usually concerns about the dresses or suits. Did the suits have to be white or black or blue? Could the girls have flowers and wear gloves? What about arm bands?

The children never asked such questions. Their questions were more substantial, as in this scenario: 

After showing them the sacred vessels used in Holy Mass, we gave a painstakingly clear explanation that only after being placed upon the altar, and having the priest and people say the prayers of the Mass, would the bread become the Body of Christ. Then we gave them an unconsecrated altar bread to taste.

Most were not terribly impressed, but we pointed out that the taste wasn’t as important as what the bread would become at Mass.  Then a question, “Will it taste different when it becomes the Body of Christ?” 

I explained it would not. My answer didn’t make any sense to my questioner, so other children jumped in to what became a rather serious conversation about transubstantiation – in second grade terms, of course.

Then came the real question. “If that really is Jesus shouldn’t we want Him all the time?” 

Certainly, a far cry from gloves and arm bands.

Easter, First Communions and Confirmations are a wonderful time to reach out to those who are on the margins of the Church and invite them deeper.  All they, and we, need to do is really watch the children, see what they believe, and let them teach us.