
This is the "main" porta-altar in the crossing.
In back is Canterbury Pulpit, where Martin Luther King gave his last sermon.
In back is Canterbury Pulpit, where Martin Luther King gave his last sermon.
As we entered, the cathedral lights were all quite dim. Once the service began, they lit the new fire in a brazier all the way back at the west end of the nave; we were sitting up front in the nave, by the second archway west of the crossing, so the fire was way too far away for us to be able to see it. (For those who have never been in the National Cathedral, the nave, or the area where the congregation sits, is incredibly long—in fact, it is said that one could lay the Washington Monument on its side and it would fit down the center aisle of the nave.) As the Pascal Candle was processed to the crossing, members of the congregation were able to light their own little individual candles from that flame and pass it on to those around them. The celebrant and two assisting priests wore a chasuble, dalmantic, and tunicle in procession; I was a little disappointed (but not surprised) to notice that the dean of the cathedral did not wear a cope, but merely his usual alb and stole (with the stole worn down bishop-style instead of crossed at the chest). The choirmaster chanted the Exsultet from the lectern to hundreds of flickering candles. So far, so good.

Finally, after an hour of torture, we got to the homily. The preacher was okay, but he spoke for eleven minutes, and in my book, that qualifies as a full-blown sermon, not a homily!

Once the baptisms were concluded, we had the Proclamation of Easter, and, finally, at last, they turned on the lights and we got a nice organ fanfare from the trompette en chamade over the high altar. A bunch of liberals in the congregation had brought cowbells to Mass and began to ring them, including some man wearing an all-white clergy shirt and collar with a particularly large and obnoxious bell. I was thinking some very un-Christian thoughts about what I wanted to do with his bell! Meanwhile, instead of singing the first Gloria in excelsis of Easter (the canon liturgist seems to have something against the Gloria, since she always substitutes some other little ditty at the regular Sunday services), the congregation and choirs sang Easter Hymn (Jesus Christ is risen today), while the clergy sprinkled/showered the congregation with branches of evergreen instead of aspergilla.

They used the Proulx A Community Mass setting for the Sanctus and Benedictus. Nothing else was sung, except for a dreadful chorus of "Taste and see" by James Moore (from GIA) as a fraction anthem, followed by a reprise of that nasty song as the first communion hymn. Several traditional lines in the prayers of consecration were converted to inclusive language, and we all noticed that the priestess did not do any of the genuflections before or after the elevation of the bread and wine.
The choir sang a lovely "Ye choirs of new Jerusalem" by Charles VIlliers Stanford as the communion anthem. The choir always does such a nice job with traditional Anglican choral literature that it's a shame the clergy makes them do so much bad contemporary Catholic music.
Unser Herrscher (He is risen! He is risen!) served as the recessional hymn. The crucifer and torchbearers, who used to always be so well trained at the cathedral, didn't have the old-time precision of movement, and they positively raced down the aisle (like the Romans are wont to do).
The service ended two and a quarter hours after it started. Not bad. I've been to Vigils that lasted a lot longer.
The cathedral organist played a postlude I didn't know, the Final from Sixième Symphonie, Op. 59, by Louis Vierne, a nice, massive, and festive piece.
Afterwards, we wandered around and took pictures like a bunch of tourists. When I get back to D.C., if I remember, I'll edit this post and try to add a couple of pictures.
And thus was our Easter Vigil experience.
EDIT: We now have pictures!

Morgan standing in front of the High Altar after Mass.
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