Homily: Easter Sunday – Cycle A
“They have taken the Lord from
the tomb, and we don’t know where they put him.” These words of Mary of Magdala perhaps ring
in our ears and our hearts today as we enter this Easter solemnity. They resonate in our hearts because we,
perhaps, can sympathize with her feelings on that first Easter morning, even
though our situation is quite different.
Instead of coming to the tomb of our Lord and finding it empty
(misunderstanding, as she did, that the Lord’s body had been taken, instead of
raised from the dead), we long to come to our churches to find our Lord, yet we
cannot. Thus, in a sense, we, too can
say “They have taken the Lord … and we do not know where they put him.”
Thus, in a sense, we have
great solidarity with those first Christians who, absolutely bewildered by the
events of Good Friday, now, in their grief, and trying to come to terms with
the loss of their Lord and Teacher, are bewildered once again by this news of
the empty tomb. Peter, whom Jesus
acknowledged as the head of his disciples, after receiving this news, runs to
the tomb himself and finds everything as Mary had described. The Gospel writer does not give us his
reaction, but we are left to infer that he remained bewildered at the
sight. Perhaps we, too, remain
bewildered by this situation in which we cannot enter our churches today to
proclaim with one voice the good news of Jesus’ resurrection: showing that we
have not been slow to understand the meaning of these events, but rather have
understood and believed. This, to state
it mildly, is a great suffering for us.
Yet today we are called to
rejoice that Christ is risen from the dead.
And I believe that the suffering that we are experiencing this year
highlights for us a great truth that lies underneath the surface of this
celebration—a truth, I hope, that will bring consolation and a depth of joy to
our commemoration today—and that truth is this: that the way to resurrection is
through suffering.
Most
of us, perhaps, live relatively comfortable lives. We have places to live, clothes to wear, food
to eat, a job that provides for us (or has provided for us, if we are retired,
or parents or others who have jobs that provide for us). We have family and friends that support us
and add joy to our lives. Nevertheless, if we’ve lived long enough, we realize
that even those comforts that we enjoy haven’t kept suffering completely out of
our lives. Rather, we have all
experienced suffering in some way. We’ve
lost loved ones through death and we’ve watched loved ones suffer; we’ve been
hurt by those closest to us: our spouses, our family members (perhaps even our
own children), and our friends; we’ve lost jobs (or, perhaps, failed to get the
job that would help us fulfill our dreams).
In these and countless other ways, suffering has touched each of our
lives. And, now, because of the
pandemic, suffering is touching each of our lives in a unique way.
Suffering,
for many people, is a thing of despair; and if we think about it even for a
little bit, we can see why. We
instinctively know that our life spans are limited; and so, if suffering
becomes too great a part of it, we begin to despair that there is any hope of
enjoying this life that we have been given. For those for whom daily suffering is intense,
this lack of hope can be stifling: leading them to isolate themselves from the
world and, in some cases, to contemplate ending their own lives (for, they
believe, to end their lives would finally bring an end to their suffering).
This
is why today’s celebration—the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead—is
such good news: because not only has Jesus redeemed us from the punishment due
to sin, but he has opened for us a life beyond suffering: one into which we
enter precisely through suffering. Yes,
Jesus’ resurrection is a thing of wonder and awe; but it would be much
different if he had lived a comfortable and full life and died at a ripe-old
age of natural causes, wouldn’t it? We’d
certainly be overjoyed to see him at his resurrection, but would it truly be
the victory we had hoped for? No, Jesus’
resurrection holds such great power because it comes precisely after he
suffered horrendously: that he, the only truly innocent man ever to live,
suffered the full brunt of evil that the world could produce and defeated it by
rising from the dead. In doing so, he
demonstrates for us that suffering in this world is not meaningless; but rather
that, when it is accepted and endured in innocence of heart, for the love of
God and our neighbor, it will speed us along the path that leads to the life
beyond suffering that Jesus has made possible for us.
This
is so important to say today: and why?
Well, because it wasn’t enough for Jesus to be a “good person”
throughout his life—one who tries not to hurt others and otherwise doesn’t
create problems—and then to die of natural causes only to be raised again. Rather, he had to contend with this world—and
the evil-inflicted suffering within it—in order to open for us the way to a
life beyond suffering. Notice, that this
contention wasn’t to push suffering down and overcome it by his cunning or his
power; rather, his contention was to stay pure within the suffering, so as to
show that even the worst suffering that the evil in this world can inflict is
no match for the power of God.
My
friends, we do not proclaim an easy salvation.
Rather, we proclaim a salvation won for us through suffering: a
salvation in which we participate through suffering. And this, as I’ve said, is the great truth
hidden beneath the surface of today’s celebration: that if we embrace the
sufferings that come to us in this life—the sufferings that we are experiencing
now, as well as all of the daily sufferings that we experience because of our
sins and simply because this world is broken, and most especially the
sufferings that come to us precisely because we are disciples of Jesus... If we embrace these sufferings, then we are
uniting ourselves more perfectly to Christ in his suffering. And when we are united to Christ in his
suffering, then we will also be united to him in the fruits of his suffering:
the new life beyond suffering that he has made possible for us.
Friends,
this involuntary suffering that we are being forced to endure—seemingly being separated
from our Lord on this day when we most desire to draw close to him—is not
fruitless. Rather, for those who embrace
it for love of God and, especially, for love of our neighbor whom we are
protecting by our social distancing, this suffering is uniting us more
perfectly to Christ and, thus, preparing us to experience the resurrection with
him. This truth that, through suffering,
we are bringing forth new life could not be more evident to us than here in
this Mass: in which we offer back to God the perfect sacrifice of his Son in
thanksgiving for the salvation that his suffering has won for us.
You
know, one of the things that struck me this morning as I reflected, was that
Mary and the disciples went out, seeking to find Jesus’ body, but it was not
there. In other words, they went out
looking for him, yet did not find him.
If we read further in Gospel, however, we see that it was not they who
found him, but rather he who came to them.
Perhaps today, in this bewildering situation in which we are prevented from
seeking him, we can, like the beloved disciple after stepping into the empty
tomb, nonetheless believe; and, thus, make ourselves open to the ways in which
he will come to us and make his risen presence known to us.
My
brothers and sisters, from wherever we may be today, in whatever sufferings we
may be experiencing, let us open our hearts to the encounter that Christ wants
for us today by putting our whole hearts into this offering: for Christ is
risen and we have life in him.
Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN
– April 12th, 2020
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