Easter Sunday

Easter Vigil
Holy Saturday is a long, empty day: when the church remains bare of all decoration; even the doors of the tabernacle lie wide open. There's a feeling of emptiness, a feeling that something's missing. It's a day which only quickens into life after night has fallen, with the lighting of the Easter fire, the singing of the Exsultet and the Gloria. As the candles drive the darkness away, the emptiness is swallowed up in alleluias. We have just received light from the single paschal candle, the symbol of the risen Christ, Who is our living flame amidst the surrounding darkness. And, as the light of that flame spreads from person to person, the whole church is illuminated, and we can finally see through the gloom. Like John and Peter, we too are able to make the connection between what's happened and what our faith tells us. Words, prophecies and prayers suddenly take on a new meaning in the light of the resurrection. Grief and mourning are replaced with joy as Christ appears, risen triumphant over death and the grave. I said that Holy Saturday was a long, empty day. We share that emptiness, and bring our own emptiness to our celebration. But now all our own emptiness is finally swallowed up in the fullness of Christ's victory over death. Because the real good news is that not only has Christ risen from the dead, but that through His death we also shall rise to new life and live forever.

Easter Sunday
Acts 10: 34, 37-43;  Colossians 3: 1-4;  John 20: 1-9

Waiting is part of being human: insomniacs wait for dawn; we wait for wounds to heal; we wait in queues at check-outs or for buses; we even grow slowly, while grief and bereavement take time, as well as a toll, on our lives.

In the dark hours after the crucifixion, the disciples would have felt that time had come to a standstill: their Master had been put to death; He was gone, laid in a tomb. Was this the end? Did anything have meaning any more. And what of His promise, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I shall raise it up again." They still wanted to believe in Him, yet they were struggling to open their hearts.

Different characters in the Gospel have a different take on the resurrection. Without saying as much, Peter was very unsure about it; John "saw and believed." Thomas took even more convincing, whereas Mary Magdalen didn't. As soon as Jesus called her by name, she believed. We have the advantage of hindsight ... of knowing the whole Gospel story and the account of all the appearances after Easter Sunday morning. Peter and John have only the empty tomb as the sun rises. But perhaps they remembered that at His transfiguration Jesus had told them that He would rise again.

Since then, however, there had been so much sadness, and so much shame: betrayal after the Last Supper, desertion from Gethsemane, denial in the High Priest's courtyard. All these negative things seemed so real, and nothing, of course, had been sadder than the Master's crucifixion.

But now, death shall have no more power over us. This day was made for us. Truly we really have a right to rejoice and be glad. Because Christ goes before us into Galilee, and into our world once more; and every Sunday becomes an Easter Sunday when we can renew our baptismal commitment in the very presence of the risen, living Lord.

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Second Sunday of Easter

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Palm Sunday