Not All Traditions Have Milkshakes

by Dan Masterton

As far back as I can remember, my mom always made an Easter bunny cake for Easter Sunday. With some basic box mix and a can of frosting, she baked the mold, and frosted it white with some accents color for the bunny’s features. Then, there was always the jelly bean garnish scattered around the plate, that we jokingly considered bunny poop. Even nine years after she passed away, my dad still uses the same mold, same process, and achieves the same traditional result for us.

When I was a middle-schooler, and I was responsible enough that my parents let me ride my bike places, I rallied some friends to go to Good Friday Living Stations at our parish. We knew some friends who were acting in the prayer service, so I persuaded a few other friends to come see them in the service with me. I enticed them by offering some french fries and milkshakes afterward. It was never more than a few of us – and the treat sounded better than it was (served out a little window at a defunct train-station McDonald’s in my hometown) – but it became a tradition that lasted several years, and eventually included driving, until we all went off to college.

At the University of Notre Dame, the Easter Vigil at the basilica is a heck of an event. A ton of seating is reserved for the families of RCIA students and staff and clergy, and then a huge line forms to try to get those last few seats. People start queueing hours beforehand. The liturgy is big and beautiful and the full reflection of what Easter joy ought to be in the Risen Lord. And unlike meatless Good Friday, the custom following Easter Vigil Mass was not shy or restrained, though it did still involve milkshakes. Catholics flocked to the nearby Steak’n’Shake just down the road, and we gorged ourselves on greasy burgers, shoestring french fries, and indulgent milkshakes. And with the three-plus-hour Mass not starting until 8pm, we usually only made it to our table about midnight.

Easter ought to be marked by joy, celebration, literal feasting. Catholics, and many Christians, are oddly skilled at embracing the ashen sackcloth of Lent but sometimes struggle to make the pivot to a feast-filled Easter – maybe because we’re too guilty about the indulgences we allow ourselves the other 320 days of the year?

Mmmmmmmmmm...
Steak 'n' Shake...

Either way, one of the strange realizations I have from time to time is that I am the primary mover for these things now. Growing up, I gained these traditions from my parents and family; in school, my friends and I sort of took turns collaborating on stuff; in adult life, it sort of continues to be a social group effort; now, as a parent and spouse, and as the primary stay-at-home parent, it's more or less up to me to try and get things started.

It means trying to be proactive and intentional about doing things that could become traditions – and not necessarily predetermining that something will become a “tradition” just because I managed to pull it off once (it’s possible no one will like it!).

One success in my children’s young lives is the importance we’ve placed on their patron saints. We invoke their patrons each night at bedtime prayer; we talk about their stories and examples when we naturally can; and we celebrate their feast days each year with ice cream (hopefully also a daily Mass, a service project, or more as they get older).

Coming out of the steepest restrictions of the pandemic, we hope we can be more active in our parish, that we can get to know the folks at our favorite fully reopened brewery, that maybe we become “regulars” at a few of our increasingly favorite places. On the same token, we hope holidays, birthdays, and other special occasions take on this hallowed traditional feel. I know I need to do my best to bring my family together with our loved ones and ensure we have opportunities to make great memories. I know I also need to leave plenty of space for my kids and family to stumble upon traditions we didn’t even know we wanted. Hopefully, this Easter is another step toward a lifetime of rich and joyful celebrations, for our family and yours.