The past few weeks have not been short of polemic. Not quite uncommon for these islands since politics remains one of our national pastimes. Yet today marks the beginning of a 10-day interlude that occurs annually and which sees our cities, towns and villages almost take on the semblance of the old city of Jerusalem circa the year 33AD.

Coinciding with the start of spring, Holy Week and Easter fall during what I consider to be the best time of the year. Our islands never look better as they do in our brief spring interlude. However, it is not just the weather and the natural landscape that makes Malta such a unique place at this time of the year.

As from this evening, when thousands, including quite a few non-practising Catholics, will take part in the procession of Our Lady of Sorrows, heaven and earth seem to join forces in reliving the final days of the life of Jesus of Nazareth leading to his brutal execution and, for those of us who profess such belief, his Resurrection on that early morning of the first day of the week that we now mark as Easter Sunday.

I am old enough to recall when Holy Week was a much more solemn moment. Having lived in Valletta until I was seven, the city has always managed to fascinate me more than ever this time of the year. Even today, although no longer as devotional as it used to be, anyone being in Valletta on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday will know what I am talking about.

It remains a spectacle to see so many peopleshuffling from church to church to spend a few moments in front of the Eucharist

Maundy Thursday starts with the Chrism Mass at St John’s which is an extremely rich liturgical celebration which the diocesan bishop celebrates with his presbyters. It is the only Mass to be celebrated in the diocese that morning. Meanwhile, in the many other churches in every corner of the island, numerous helpers are putting the final touches to the setting up and decoration of the altar of repose to be visited by thousands in the evening and the following morning. Today, in many places, the professionals are called in. When I was a young boy, it was much more amateur possibly. Many people would go to the church taking with them white flowers, often lilies and ġiżi.

All available vases would be taken out of the cupboards where the flowers would be arranged fairly nicely and placed with many candles and other decorations that adorn these altars. As I said, in many places the arrangements are now more professionally done with flowers still brought by people from their gardens being mixed with the flowers ordered for the occasion. As an altar boy, I remember all this and the hustle and bustle going on in preparation for the evening celebration.

I recall the temptation not to eat the almonds and sesame seeds from the qagħqa tal-appostli that would be donated to each of the 12 men whose feet would be washed by the parish priest during the evening liturgy in remembrance of Christ washing his apostles’ feet during the Last Supper.

I was once asked to warm the water to be used in the washing of the feet. Apparently, in my overenthusiastic zeal, I was responsible for almost scalding the poor men. It would also be the day one could try to get a close glimpse of the tabernacle which lies empty from Thursday until the Easter Vigil on Saturday.

Another highlight for us used to be ringing every possible bell we could get our hands on during the Gloria on Thursday evening that would mark the start of the silence that accompanies the Easter triduumas well as the stripping of the altars after the evening Mass. By then the aroma coming from the borma, a mixture of spices and balm would already have permeated every angle of the church, still smelling of incense used during the procession with the Blessed Sacrament to the altar of repose. In Valletta, my parents used to take my sister and me to the functions celebrated at St John’s. That procession was always my favourite part of the Maundy Thursday celebration.

That and Archbishop Gonzi’s unique ‘intoning’ of the Gloria. Until a few years ago, the altar of repose at St John’s was set up in the oratory on the altar just beneath Caravaggio’s painting depicting the beheading of St John the Baptist. It was grandiose and I used to be fascinated by the deacon having to climb onto the altar to place the Blessed Sacrament in the tabernacle. I would, as a deacon many years later, be the last person to do so since, the following year, the altar of repose was moved to one of the side chapels in the church itself.

Valletta remains my favourite locality both on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday morning. Although the many people making their way from one church to another are no longer so immersed in prayer and meditation as we were expected to be when we were kids, it remains a spectacle to see so many people of different ages shuffling from church to church to spend a few moments in front of the Eucharist which, for believers, is the real presence of Christ in his humanity and his divinity. The Good Friday liturgy is also something fascinating.

I recall the a cappella singing with the organ remaining silent just like the bells. The function starts with the celebrants prostrating themselves on the floor in front of the bare altar. It is a solemn yet plain celebration during which the passion of Jesus Christ according to St John is read out. It is a magnificent account even from the literary point of view with the author making use of symbolism and double meaning such as the contrast between light and darkness, truth and falsehood. For the past few years, Good Friday has taken on even greater significance since I reside in a town where literally hundreds of people are involved in the celebrations, the procession in particular.

Living in Żejtun has made me grow even fonder of Holy Week and Easter. For many in this locality, Good Friday is even more important than the feast of the patron saint, which is as it should be after all. The stupendous parish church, designed by Lorenzo Gafà is a hive of activity. The interior is draped in black and each and every available space contains one of the statues depicting the passion of Christ that are carried through the streets on Friday afternoon. The procession itself is an immensely elaborate manifestation which lasts several hours. Besides the statues, hundreds of people accompany the procession dressed as biblical characters or Roman soldiers.

The two local bands also participate as do the many confraternities established in this parish. It is indeed a wonderful spectacle made even more sombre by the sound of the ċuqlajta from the belfry of the parish church. By the time the Easter vigil commences after sunset on Holy Saturday, the churches are once again adorned in the splendour befitting the celebration of Easter. It is indeed a pity that for quite a few, the climax is Good Friday rather than Easter.

The vigil itself is intense and pregnant with meaning – from the kindling and blessing of new light to the proclamation of the Exultet and the recounting of the history of salvation to the intonation of the Gloria to the happy peals of the bells that are silent no more and announce the proclamation of the Good News that He who was put to death is risen indeed. The resurrection of Christ is the fundamental tenet of Christianity. Besides being an important event in the socio-cultural fabric of these islands, Easter is also an opportunity to resurrect in our own selves as well as in our communities and society those underlying and universal human values for which Jesus of Nazareth was ready to give up his life such as love, mercy, peace, truth and honesty.