by Father James Rodriguez
IN THIS COLUMN last week, I wrote about an icon of Christ crucified. Through closed eyes, the image starkly reminds us of the price of our redemption.
At the end of this holiest of weeks, the light of Christ’s resurrection opens our eyes and shines all around us. In another beautiful icon, called H’anastasis (“The Resurrection” in Greek), this light radiates from the risen body of Christ in rays that touch the other figures in this scene, among whom we can count ourselves this glorious day.
His resurrection proves to be ours as well, since He holds by the hand the hands of Adam and Eve, our first parents, awakened from the sleep of death, risen from the grave of sin. With the venerable pierced hands that were once nailed to a tree, He holds the hands that reached out to the tree. Here, at the end of Lent, we who have contemplated the Cross of our Savior, His redeeming death, and now His glorious resurrection, arise with Adam and Eve, with the patriarchs and prophets, and touch the beaming radiance of salvation in the Holy Face. The Lord holds us by the hand, saving us from our downward spiral into hopelessness. He catches us, as He did Simon Peter on the lake, and the strong Son of God lifts us up.
It is the same Peter whose name begins today’s readings. He foundered on the waters (Mt. 14:30). He proclaimed that Jesus was the Messiah (Mk. 8:29). He denied that same Christ three times (Lk. 22:54-62). Today, he speaks boldly. He is the same, but something fundamental in him has changed. Here he is no longer hidden in the safe confines of the Cenacle, but in the public square, with the very people who crucified the Lord of life. This same Peter, no longer afraid, knew beyond doubt that Christ is alive, and will never die again.
Such is our luminous hope. We believe in a Lord who is alive here and now. The same Lord who was absent from our tabernacles only two days ago, on that Friday we call Good, is here with us now, and we can join in the Psalmist’s cries of rejoicing, for the Lord has made this day, and we are glad. With St. Paul, we who were raised with Christ are given the light to seek what is above, that light that towers over us as a Paschal Candle in the darkness of Holy Saturday. That light stands against the darkness of our failures, our crucifixions, and our sin, as a sign to us that while it was still dark the tomb was empty.
Not long ago, when I lived at the college seminary in Douglaston, the best night of the year was Holy Saturday. There was something special in the air. The spiritual exercises we undertook during Lent, along with the intense preparation for the liturgies of Holy Week, brought the seminarians together in a way nothing else could.
Sons in the Son
At the end of the Easter Vigil, before going our separate ways for Easter break with our families, we would hug and wish each other well. Admiration and joy filled us. As men studying for the priesthood we had become brothers, yes, but something more: what Meister Eckhardt called sons in the Son. Washed clean in the blood of the Lamb, illumined by the light of nations, our souls’ communal exuberance was itself a reaction to something ineffable, the mystery of Easter.
In today’s Gospel, Mary Magdalene, while it was still dark, was not joyful but terrified. She assumed that the body of the Lord had been taken away by thieves. She ran. As her very foundations, already weakened by the week’s events, began to crumble anew, she went immediately to Peter, the rock, and told him what she had seen. With John, he discovered and was changed by the secret of God’s love for you and for me, the secret of Easter — the life restored because it was given away. Jesus is the grain of wheat that fell to the ground and died, producing much fruit. The question for us is, are we fruitful? Are we willing to give it all? Will we see and believe, like John, in the face of this mystery? Will we allow the emptiness of the tomb to sanctify and unite us?
As you read these words, do not let the mysteries of the last 40 days slip into the past, another Lent over and done. Do not forget what you learned about yourself through fasting, or the people you helped by giving alms. Most of all, do not forget the Lord who spoke to you in prayer, for it is the same Lord foretold in the Scriptures, who had to rise from the dead.
Readings for The Mass of Easter Sunday:
Acts 10: 34a, 37-43
Psalm 118: 1-2, 16-17, 22-23
Colossians 3: 1-4 or 1 Corinthians 5: 6b-8
John 20: 1-9
Father Rodriguez, parochial vicar at Most Precious Blood, Long Island City, was ordained to the priesthood for the Brooklyn Diocese on June 7, 2008.
