Holy Week 2026 has come to a close. This year saw an unprecedented number of attendees, many coming from far and wide to experience Mass at Notre Dame. As a first-timer, I was woefully unprepared for the chaos that was the Basilica from Palm Sunday to the Easter Vigil. After several Masses spent in the dreaded black chairs, I have compiled a list of suggestions for those hoping to land a coveted pew seat next year:
1. Hire a substitute
Pros: Easiest option
Cons: Most expensive
If you are not lucky enough to have a fiancé who will wait in line for 12 (!!!) hours on Holy Saturday, consider paying a friend to wait for you. Notre Dame’s minimum wage per hour is $15, and you should be prepared to provide snacks, a lawn chair, an umbrella, and some sort of video game system to keep your substitute entertained. I would estimate the total cost at around $2k, but it depends on the cost of the Nintendo Switch.
2. Basilica sleepover
Pros: Great memories
Cons: Uncomfortable (and illegal)
If you’re looking to form some lasting memories and don’t mind breaking a few rules, try sleeping in the Basilica before your Mass of choice. The church technically closes at 9 p.m., so you’ll need to sneak in early. The pews are about as comfortable as the dorm mattresses, so your biggest problem is hiding from Fr. Brian until you can snuggle up in your row of choice.
3. Postpone Confirmation
Pros: Front-row seats
Cons: Morally dubious
For any precocious middle-schoolers already worried about their collegiate Holy Week experience. This could take a variety of forms, including intentionally failing your catechesis classes, sleeping through your Confirmation Mass, or pretending you can’t decide which saint to choose (for, like, eight years). The wait will certainly be worth it, since incoming Catechumens have the best seats in the house. I recommend consulting a priest before you try this—any C.S.C. worth their cassock should understand.
4. Sneak into the choir loft
Pros: Beautiful view
Cons: Can ya sing?
I recommend this approach for anyone with a friend in the Liturgical Choir, a decent voice, or an unused blue robe. You’ll need to blend in, so if you know (or a family member has told you) you can’t sing, work on your lip-syncing skills. Spend a few Tuesdays at O’Rourke’s karaoke to sharpen your skills beforehand or you risk incurring the wrath of several burly baritones.
5. Be a reader
Pros: Center of attention
Cons: Requires literacy
This option is for the prima donnas who look at all the catechumens and think, “Why isn’t more attention on me right now?” You’ll have to apply and go through a rigorous audition process, which may or may not include reading the Psalm upside down while members of Campus Ministry heckle you.
The few options remaining are a bit too difficult to recommend to our readers. You could sneak onto a high school sports team (they always seem to get four or five pews or some reason). Devout readers could even consider joining the C.S.C. Perhaps our best advice is to become a canonized saint with a relic in the basilica’s reliquary—you’ll always be bodily present for every single Mass without having to move a muscle. But if you want a seat at the vigil this side of heaven … good luck.
Haley Garecht is a senior studying political science, Irish studies, and constitutional studies. She can’t believe that her last published article in the Rover is a humor piece, since she is not particularly funny. To thank her for finally retiring from the humor section, please email hgarecht@nd.edu.