Peace and joy in the Risen Christ to all of you! He is Risen! Alleluia!
Homily: Easter Sunday – Cycle A
Praised be Jesus Christ, now and
forever! My brothers and sisters, He is
Risen! I hope that you are joining with
me today in this joyful sense of relief that our Lenten fast has ended, that
is, our preparation for the celebration of our Lord’s resurrection has been
fulfilled, and that we can now feast on the splendor of this holy day. It has been a long journey since Ash
Wednesday to today; and especially in these last three days, recalling our
Lord’s passion, we have witnessed many things.
In order to bolster our joy today, let’s take a quick look at what we’ve
experienced.
First, on Thursday night, we witnessed
the Last Supper in which Jesus, knowing that he was about to die, instituted
the Eucharist by giving to his twelve closest disciples his body to eat and
blood to drink in the form of bread and wine.
At the same time, we witnessed how he instituted the priesthood that
same night in order to ensure that this Eucharist would continue after he was
gone. And we witnessed how Jesus bent
low to wash his disciples’ feet, giving them an example of how it is that they
were to serve one another. Finally, we
witnessed how he went out to the garden to pray and was arrested after he was
betrayed by Judas, one of his twelve closest disciples.
Then, on Friday, we witnessed how
Jesus was brought before Pontius Pilate and was condemned unjustly. Perhaps we even felt the sting of guilt as we
joined in with the crowds who shouted “Crucify him! Crucify him!” and who demanded for the
release of Barabbas the murderer instead of Jesus. We witnessed how he carried his own cross and
was crucified on Calvary. Perhaps the
sorrow for our sins moved us to venerate the cross that day: the cross on which
Jesus suffered for our sins, but through which he set us free. At the end, we watched as his dead body was
taken down from the cross and laid in a tomb before nightfall that night.
On Saturday, we witnessed that
strange, eerie silence that always comes with Holy Saturday. “There is a great silence on earth today, a
great silence and stillness” an ancient Christian homilist wrote. He continues, “The whole earth keeps silence
because the King is asleep.” We witnessed
the closed tomb of our Lord and (hopefully) witnessed the Sabbath rest. We sat and waited, not knowing if what Jesus
had said about the resurrection was true and, if so, how and when it would come
about. We witnessed night fall and felt
the anxiety of not knowing what the future would hold and the sadness in our
hearts for having lost, it seemed, all that we had hoped for.
Now this morning we come here and we
are witnesses to the incredible news that has come to us from the women who
went to the tomb: “They have taken the Lord from the tomb!” and we are
witnesses of what Peter would tell us after he ran to the tomb and found it
empty. “Could it be that our Lord has
risen?” Yes, Peter, he is risen and of
this we are witnesses.
In its most basic definition, a
witness is someone who sees an event take place. Typically, we associate a witness with legal
proceedings; and because of this, we all generally recognize that being a
witness carries with it responsibilities, specifically the responsibility to
recount what it is we have seen or experienced.
Here in the United States, one can only be demanded to “give witness” in
a court of law. Otherwise, we have the
“right to remain silent.” For
Christians, however, this right doesn’t necessarily exist. Certainly, our freedom to remain silent can
never be taken from us. Nevertheless, as
Christians we believe that an encounter with the risen Christ demands a
kerygmatic response. It is in fact a
response commissioned by Christ when he told his disciples, “You are
witnesses….”
Now I know many of you are probably
looking at me and saying, “I was with you, Father, right up until that
“K”-word. Right, kerygmatic. First let me tell you that it is not
important that you know how to say this word and it is even less important that
you know how to spell it (if it wasn’t for spell-check, I would get it wrong
every time). Now let me tell you what it
means. It’s a Greek word that means a
convincing proclamation of what one has seen and heard. For Christians, kerygma is a proclamation
that the crucified and risen Jesus is God’s final and definitive act of
salvation. This is exactly the witness
that Peter gives in our first reading today.
In it he has been summoned to the
house of a Roman Centurion, named Cornelius, who was experiencing
conversion. Peter, upon hearing all that
God had done to prepare this man to receive the gift of faith, gave this
kerygmatic witness. Upon hearing it,
they Holy Spirit came down upon Cornelius and all in the household and many of
them spoke in tongues. Cornelius and his
entire household was baptized that day, demonstrating the power that the
kerygma, the convincing witness to the faith, holds.
My brothers and sisters, we are witnesses. We have encountered the risen Christ. In fact, we encounter him every Sunday, here
at this altar. Peter and the other disciples knew that once they had
encountered the risen Christ, they could not remain in the Upper Room, but had
to go forth from there to proclaim what they had seen and heard. And so it is with us. As much as we can no longer claim ignorance
of our sins, having seen the suffering that they caused our Lord on the cross,
no longer can we stand idle, either, now that we have encountered the risen
Christ.
Every Sunday, and in a particularly
powerful way on Easter Sunday, we participate anew in the life, death, and
resurrection of Christ; we encounter again the risen Lord in Word and
Sacrament. My brothers and sisters, we
are witnesses. Therefore, the dismissal
at Mass is never the end of our Christian obligation for the week, but rather
it is just the beginning. The “go” in
the “go in peace” is not simply permission to leave, but rather it is a sending
forth; and it is understood that this “sending forth” involves some sort of
mission.
My brothers and sisters, the privilege
of being a witness—and it is a privilege—brings with it the responsibility to
proclaim what we have seen and heard in every place where we live. Saint Pope John Paul II reminded us of this
when he said these words at the beginning of his pontificate, “Do not be afraid
to go out into the streets and the public places—like the first apostles!—to
preach Christ and the good news of salvation in the squares of cities.” Friends, if we are to be authentic witnesses
then we must take seriously this “sending forth” that we receive today and
every Sunday.
Since we are learning Greek vocabulary
today, why don’t we try one more? Does
anyone know what the Greek word for “witness” is? It’s martyr.
Martyr is the noble title give
to Christianity’s most fervent witnesses: those whose unfailing proclamation of
the risen Christ led them to be killed for their faith. Brothers and sisters, may our kerygma, our
witness, to the risen Christ whom we encounter here at this Mass earn for each
one of us so noble a title.
Given
at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – April 16th, 2017
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