The Resurrection of the Lord
April 20, 2014
Stories of so-called “near death experiences” have become so popular that they
almost have their own section in the bookstore. There’s a fascination with the
stories people tell of hovering on the fragile frontier between life and death
but then, thanks to aggressive medical intervention, remaining on this side of
the great beyond. People who have had these experiences tend to have at
least two things in common: they are convinced that there is indeed a life
beyond this one, and their lives here are never the same again. Things
that once seemed all-important no longer do: people become more important than
possessions, time becomes more a gift than a taskmaster or a tyrant; life’s
simple blessings gain a new appeal: the dawning of a new day, fresh air, a
flower, a smile, an embrace, a sunset, a meal with family or friends. Things
like these are never quite the same. And no more are they taken for granted.
On this Easter morning, I want to suggest to you
that we have all had a “near-death experience” -- all of us who believe in Jesus
Christ. It’s called baptism. Baptism is the Christian near-death
experience. In baptism, we encountered both death and life. That’s what St. Paul
was getting at in today’s passage from the Letter to the Colossians: “You have
died,” he said, “and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”
“You have died.” It’s true, my friends. We
have all died, yet we live. Because of our baptism we live a life that is more
than just our life: Christ is living within us. That’s what baptism means.
It’s our sharing in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And it is not
just a moment. No, baptism is the beginning of a journey, a lifelong pilgrimage.
The baptism ritual itself tells the story -- not so
much in words as in water. Last night at the Easter Vigil, the people who were
baptized walked into the baptistery and knelt down and water flowed over their
bodies. It was a near-death experience for them, for as you know, water drowns;
water takes away life. But water also gives life. Without water there is no
life. No wonder the Church uses water in order to plunge us into the
twofold mystery of the death and resurrection of Christ!
I once heard it said that everything would be
different for us if we remembered our baptism. If we did, our baptism
would be every bit as dramatic and life-changing as a near-death experience.
Everything would be different: our priorities would change because our faith
would inform and influence everything we did. And prayer would not be an
afterthought: prayer would become our first language, so to speak, the one that
comes to us most naturally. And we would begin to look at people
differently – see people as God does. And we would come to see our work
not as drudgery, or as a necessary evil, or even as just a means to make a
living. We would see our work as our contribution, however modest, to the
building of God’s kingdom.
And if we took our baptism really seriously and
remembered it, we would see the appalling situation of the world’s poor and
oppressed as a wake-up call to charity, yes, but also to work for justice.
And we would begin to see the world around us with new eyes. We would
stand in awe of God’s creation and do everything we can to respect, protect, and
enhance it. So I say it again: if a near-death experience can change
everything for a person, imagine what baptism taken seriously could do for us!
My friends, let me honest with you. I don’t take my
baptism seriously enough. But I thank God for Easter because it reminds me to
try. Easter is the triumph of hope over experience and so, no matter what
my experience has been, there is still hope. I can change and so can you.
I can awaken to the Christ into whose death and resurrection I have been
baptized, and so can you. I can be like the elderly Japanese man I
baptized a few years ago at the end of a long life in which he had stoutly
resisted religion and everything it stood for. Then, remarkably, one day
he told his wife, a Catholic, that he wanted to be baptized. I visited
him, got to know him and his story, and one memorable day I baptized him in his
living room because he wasn’t able to get out. I’ve done thousands of
baptisms but this was one I’ll never forget. As the water streamed down his face
he looked at me with a smile and said, “Now everything is new!” And then
there was water running down my face – the water of my tears – as I realized
that this man really understood the meaning of baptism!
My friends, none of this is magic and none of this
can we do on our own, as if coming to faith or to a deeper faith is something we
do for ourselves. It isn’t. Faith is a gift from God, a gift that is lived
and nurtured in community, not in isolation. That’s why we need the
Church. We do. And we need it every day, not just on Easter.
All of this should become clear in a few moments
when we stand together to renew our baptismal promises. May the “I do’s”
we say together, the “I do’s” of everyone here, strengthen the faith of each one
here, and may the newly blessed baptismal water that is sprinkled over us awaken
us to who we are. And, later, as we come forward to receive the Eucharist,
may we find nourishment and strength for the journey that lies ahead.
Dear friends, this could be the Easter that will
take us past all the other ones, the Easter that, like a near-death experience,
will make everything new and different for us. It could be, you know.
It really could. The resurrection changed everything for Jesus. Our
baptism can do the same for us!
Father Michael G. Ryan
