An old legend from Crusader times tells of a warrior who, in a
reckless moment, and on a wager, accepted a challenge to carry all the
way from Jerusalem to Paris the flame that burned before the tomb of
Christ in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Given the great distance
involved and the formidable obstacles (winds and rains, rivers, robbers,
and marauding armies), it was a very foolish wager, but he made it
nonetheless.
As the
story goes, this tough Crusader soldier who had spent a lifetime proving
his prowess, overcame nearly insurmountable odds and succeeded in
carrying the holy flame all the way to Paris. But it was a remarkably
changed man who arrived there. All his efforts to protect the flame from
the forces of nature and the assaults of humans – cradling it and
caressing it along the way as a mother would her child - had a
transforming effect on him. The long, demanding journey changed his
heart: now his deepest desire was no longer winning a foolish bet and
making his mark on history, but simply protecting the tiny, fragile
flame. So, it was not a swaggering soldier who arrived in Paris many
months later, flame still burning, but a humble and gentle pilgrim. It
happened to be Holy Saturday and, in an act of prayerful gratitude, he
walked into the great Cathedral of Notre-Dame and lit the Easter fire
with his flame.
My
friends, standing next to me is the paschal candle, our Easter fire -lit
last night in total darkness out on the front steps of the Cathedral and
carried into the Cathedral where for some moments it was the only light
in this vast space. Then, slowly, as we passed the light one to another,
the entire Cathedral began to glow with a holy light.
This
Easter I find myself praying that the light of Christ that we celebrate
at Easter - light that is symbolized by this candle - might overcome the
darkness of suffering people everywhere: victims of war and violence,
poverty and privation, people suffering here in our own country:
migrants, refugees, and asylum-seekers. There is so much darkness, isn’t
there!
Happily, Easter is about light, all about light: Christ, the light, who
from the darkness of the tomb burst forth into the light of day. Christ,
the light, who at a moment in time was completely overcome by the powers
of darkness, but only so that he could in his very person turn darkness
into light, doubt into faith, despair into hope, hatred into love. In my
reading not long ago I came across these arresting words: “Our
Scriptures do not give us words to explain away pain and death; no, they
give us the Son of God who, not content with encouraging us from the
sidelines, insisted on getting into the trenches with us, suffering
along with us, and dying for us.”
My
friends, this is the Christ we celebrate at Easter, the Christ who
stopped at nothing to prove his love for us, the Christ who, thanks to
his victory over death, brings us life in abundance, overflowing life,
life that is ours for the taking in the sacramental life of the Church,
life that will one day completely overflow in us when the risen and
glorious Christ will raise our mortal bodies and makes them like his own
in glory.
Now, I
know that some people think of the Resurrection of Christ as a metaphor
and not an actual event – a metaphor for the triumph of good over evil,
of life over death; or as a poetic way of saying that Jesus and his
teachings are timeless and enduring, or that his disciples, after he
died and was buried, began to experience him in a new way. But, my
friends, we did not come here this morning to celebrate a metaphor! We
came here because we believe - or are doing our best to believe - the
astonishingly good news proclaimed to those three brave women at the
empty tomb early on that first day of the week: “Why do you seek the
living one among the dead? He is not here. He has been raised!”
We
need, my friends, on this Easter day of 2025, to hear that amazing news
the way those women heard it. We do. We need to hear it and to be set on
fire by it, jolted by it as if by a lightning bolt. The message those
women received – that Jesus was risen – is gospel - Good News - the
greatest news of all time, for in raising Jesus from the dead God was
not only intervening in human history but transforming human history. We
call the Resurrection the New Creation, and so we should. God, whose
all-powerful Word at the dawn of creation brought light from darkness
and sparked the first stirrings of life, was doing so again. God who, at
the moment the Word became flesh, embracing our mortal flesh and making
it his own, was now transfiguring that same flesh with glory, a glory
that even now, thanks to the grace of God and thanks to our baptism, is
ours!
My
friends, the Resurrection is mystery and miracle, but it is not
metaphor. And it is also Mission. That’s why, like those three women at
the tomb, we need to carry from this place the good news that Christ is
risen. We need to proclaim that faith. And how do we do that? Probably
not by standing on the street corner or by Facebook or Instagram posts.
That’s not our way. I like the way Carlo Carretto, a favorite spiritual
writer of mine, puts it: “Every time we forgive an enemy, every time we
feed the hungry, every time we defend the weak, we proclaim our faith in
the Resurrection. When we have the courage to marry, when we welcome a
newly-born child, we proclaim it. When we wake at peace in the morning
and sing Gods’ praise at the setting of the sun, we proclaim the
Resurrection.”
My
friends, we are Resurrection people. We must keep the flame of faith
alive in the face of some bruising odds - including all our personal
struggles and sufferings, and all our fears. And there is reason for
fear but, in the words of Pope Francis, we must “cast aside our songs of
sadness…and let the sound of joy resound.” Yes! Because the death of
Christ was not the final word. His resurrection was. And is. And will
be. Happy Easter!
Father Michael G. Ryan
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