Between the sadness of the Cross and the joy of Easter

The following comes from Fr. Thomas Rosica at Salt and Light:

Holy Saturday is a day of grief and mourning, of patient waiting and hoping. With Mary and the disciples, we grieve the death of the most important member of our Christian community. The faith of Mary and the disciples was strongly challenged on that first Holy Saturday as they awaited the resurrection.

When the full impact of the death of friends and loved ones fully hits us, it has the potential to stun, dull, and crush the human heart. It can immobilize us from action and thought. If we are people without faith and hope, the experience of confusion, grief and loss has the potential to kill us.

Today we reflect on that period of confusion and silence, between the sadness of the cross and the joy of Easter. From the bewilderment of Jesus’ disciples to the great faith of Mary, we examine our own lives in light of the great “Sabbath of Time” and draw courage from Mary’s example to face the future with deep hope, patience, love and interior peace.

At the end of this long day of waiting, we celebrate the mother of all liturgies, a true feast for the senses. The Church gathers in darkness and lights a new fire and a great candle that will make this night bright for us. We listen to our ancient Scriptures: stories of creation, Abraham and Isaac, Moses and Miriam and the crossing of the sea, poems of promise and rejoicing, and the story of the empty tomb. We see, hear, taste, feel the newness of God in Jesus Christ, risen from the dead. In the “Mother of all liturgies” the past and present meet, death and life embrace and life is triumphant; we reject evil and renew our baptismal promises to God.

On Holy Saturday, many of us are far too busy with Easter preparations to reflect on the significance of this day. We do not take the necessary time to grieve, ponder and enter into the mind and heart of Mary and the disciples on that first Holy Saturday.

I am very grateful to one of my good friends and Basilian confrères, Father Robert Crooker, CSB, who taught me years ago about the mystery and meaning of Holy Saturday. Father Crooker is a retired professor of Canon Law from our Basilian University of St. Thomas in Houston, Texas. Though now in his 80s, this priest is a great example of one who has remained “evergreen” in his faith, spirituality, outlook and love of the Church. He is one of those special persons with whom one can discuss the deepest spiritual and religious matters in simple, profound, wise and always hopeful ways.

Father Crooker sent me the following text back in 1990, which I have read on every Holy Saturday since. His words can help us appreciate more deeply the significance of this great day of watching and waiting.

Read more here.

Fr. Rutler: Christ comforted, encouraged and prepared a few to convert the many

The following comes from Fr. George Rutler:

In the forty days between the Resurrection and the Ascension, our Lord appeared to numerous individuals and to various groups, including some five hundred on one occasion, and at last to the group who witnessed his ascent to glory in a cloud of light. A forensic investigator would logically ask why he did not appear to those who had crucified him, to those who had plotted against him, and to Pontius Pilate. Napoleon, in an amalgamation of pragmatism, cynicism and fascination, is said to have remarked that Jesus could have converted the whole Empire had he appeared from the dead in front of Caesar in the Roman Forum.

God’s ways are not our ways, and were it otherwise, there would have been no Holy Passion. But the same Saint Peter who had been appalled that Christ must die on the cross, was the first to enter the empty tomb and then proclaimed on Pentecost that he and others had seen the Lord. The question lingers though, about why Christ did not stun his enemies with his victory. Reports of his resurrection did cause some panic among the Sanhedrin and others, and the soldiers feared they might be to blame for having been neglectful watchmen, but none of the chief players in this greatest of all dramas, as far as we know,  had any encounter with the Risen Christ. One tradition holds that Pontius Pilate spent his last days wandering in exile, haunted because he could not be inspired.

As usual, the fertile mind of John Henry Newman proposes that that Christ did not show himself to all people, because appearing only to chosen witnesses “was the most effectual means of propagating His religion through the world.” Had his murderers seen him, they would have reacted with “sudden fears, sudden contrition, sudden earnestness, sudden resolves, which disappear suddenly.” By a strategy more pragmatic than any general’s, Christ comforted, encouraged and prepared a few to convert the many, for “Many are called, but few are chosen.”  So Newman says, “Doubtless, much may be undone by the many, but nothing is done except by those who are specially trained for action.”

Many saw Christ resuscitate the daughter of Jairus and the son of the widow of Nain, to no lasting effect, for then as now, excitement is momentary and even threatening: the raising of Lazarus was what finally compelled the authorities to kill Jesus. Spectacles are not divine graces, and while false Messiahs can give people a thrill, only the true Messiah can give grace. “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rise from the dead” (Luke 16:31).

Peter, the chief witness, was trained the hard way through his own denials and repentance, and he continues to confirm others in the Faith through his apostolic successors: “This is a cause of great joy for you” (1 Peter 1:6). 

Archbishop Fulton Sheen on the Resurrection of Jesus

“What is most peculiar about Easter is that although the followers of Jesus had heard Him say He would break the bonds of death, when He actually did, no one believed it…The followers were not expecting a Resurrection and, therefore, did not imagine they saw something of which they were ardently hoping. Even Mary Magdalene, who within that very week had been told about the Resurrection when she saw her own brother raised to life from a grave, did not believe it. She came on Sunday morning to the tomb with spices to anoint a body – not to greet a Risen Savior. On the way, the question of the women was who will roll back the stone? Their problem was how they could get in; not whether the Savior would get out.” 

Archbishop Fulton Sheen (Way to Inner Peace)

The Lord has Risen!

The following poem from the second century priest Melito of Sardes (Asia Minor) praises the Resurrection:

Trembling for joy cries all creation;
What is this mystery, so great and new?
The Lord has risen from among the dead,
And Death itself He crushed with valiant foot.
Behold the cruel tyrant bound and chained,
And man made free by Him who rose!

The Resurrection: The Greatest Event in History

The following comes from Fr. Rutler at the NCR:

We know directly from Saint Paul that Greek philosophers thought the Resurrection was a curious absurdity. Politicians more pragmatically feared that it would upset the whole social order. One of the earliest Christian “apologists,” or explainers, was Saint Justin Martyr who tried to persuade the emperor Antoninus Pius that Christianity is the fulfillment of the best intuitions of classical philosophers like Socrates and Plato.

Justin was reared in an erudite pagan family in Samaria, in the land of Israel just about one lifetime from the Resurrection. Justin studied hard and accepted Christ as his Savior, probably in Ephesus, and then set up his own philosophical school in Rome to explain the sound logic of the Divine Logos. Refusing to worship the Roman gods, and threatened with torture by the Prefect Rusticus, he said: “You can kill us, but you cannot hurt us.” Then he was beheaded.

Fast forward almost exactly a thousand years, and another philosopher, Bernard of Chartres, also admired the best of the Greek philosophers and coined the phrase “We are dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants.” There had been long centuries without much effort to explain the mystery of the Resurrection with luminous intelligence. In the seventeenth century, Isaac Newton would describe himself the same way. Being intellectual dwarfs may sound pessimistic, but there was also optimism in the fact that, lifted on the shoulders of giants, they could see even farther than the giants themselves. In witness to that, less than fifty years after Bernard died, building began on the great cathedral of Chartres. The magnificent rose window in the south transept depicts the evangelists as small men on the shoulders of the tall prophets. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John are closer to Christ in the center of the window, than Jeremiah, Isaiah, Ezekiel and Daniel who lift them up, seeing in fact what the prophets had longed for in hope.

The Risen Christ is neither a ghost nor a mere mortal. Ancient philosophies could be vague about things supernatural, and ancient cults could be distant from personal conduct. The Resurrection unites ethics and worship. The famous letter of an anonymous contemporary of Justin Martyr, meant to be read by the emperor Marcus Aurelius, said that the way Christians live “has not been devised by any speculation or deliberation of inquisitive men; nor do they, like some, proclaim themselves the advocates of any merely human doctrines.”

The Resurrection was the greatest event in history, and unlike other events that affect life in subsequent generations in different degrees by sequential cause and effect, the Resurrection is a living force for all time, making Christ present both objectively in the Sacraments, and personally in those who accept him. Thus, indifference to the Resurrection is not an option. The future life of each one of us depends on a willingness to be saved from eternal death. 

The Promise of Easter

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:

The serpent’s bite was a deadly one.  The venom had worked its way deep into the heart of the entire human race, doing its gruesome work.  The anti-venom was unavailable until He appeared.  One drop was all that was needed, so potent was this antidote.  Yet it was not like Him to be stingy.  He poured out all he had, down to the last drop.  The sacrifice of His entire life, poured out at the foot of the cross – This was the Son’s answer to the Problem of Sin.

Three days later came the Father’s answer to the Problem of Death.  It was equally extravagant.  For Jesus was not simply brought back to life like Lazarus.  That would be resuscitation, the return to normal, human life, with all its limitations.  Including death.  Yes Lazarus ultimately had to go through it all again . . . the dying, the grieving family, the burial.  Jesus did not “come back.”  He passed over, passed through.  His resurrection meant that he would no longer be subject to death.  Death, as St. Paul said, would have no more power over him.

You may say that physical death was not the worst consequence of sin, and you’d be right.  Separation from God, spiritual death, is much more fearsome.  But enough with the talk that physical death is beautiful and natural.  It is not.  Our bodies are not motor vehicles driven around by our souls.  We do not junk them when they wear out and buy another one (that’s one  problem with the reincarnation idea).  Rather, are bodies are an essential dimension of who we are.  Our bodies and immortal souls are intimately intertwined, which makes us so different from both angels and animals.  Therefore death separates what God has joined.  So it is natural that we rebel against it and shudder before it.  Even the God-man trembled in the Garden.

So Jesus confronts death head on, for our sake.  The Roman Easter sequence, a traditional poem/song stretching back into the first millennium, highlights the drama:“Mors et vitae duello, conflixere mirando.  Dux vitae mortuus regnat vivus.” (“Death and life dueled in a marvelous conflict; the Dead Ruler of Life reigns Alive!”)  Gandalf the Grey who sacrificed himself to take out the Balrog, returns as Gandalf the White (Tolkein heard this sung for many Easters before he wrote The Lord of the Rings).

“He descended into Hell” of the Apostle’s Creed means that Jesus endured the wrenching of body and soul for our sakes and came out the other side endowed with a new, different, glorified humanity.  How does the Bible describe it?  Well, Mary Magdalene did not recognize the Risen Christ at first, until He called her by name.  The disciples on the road to Emmaus didn’t recognize him either.  But doubting Thomas shows us that his wounds were still evident.  And though he could pass through locked doors, he proved he was not a ghost by asking for something to eat.  Paul describes it as a “spiritual body” in I Corinthians 15, which sounds like an oxymoron to me.  But we have to take off our shoes here, realize that we are on holy ground, and that we do not have words adequate to describe the awesome reality of the new humanity he has won for us.

Read the rest here.

Bishop Robert Barron on the Resurrection of Jesus

Fr. Robert Barron on the Resurrection of Jesus

Bishop Robert Barron on “Risen”

Christus Resurrexit

St. Michael the Archangel and the Resurrection of the Dead

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:

November 15, 2015
First Reading: Daniel 12:1-3
http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/111515.cfm

History moves inexorably toward a climactic conclusion. Sometimes we don’t feel the momentum and every day feels like a repetition of the last. Yet other times, we feel like we are on the cusp of a new era as events unfold around us. The Bible does not present a cyclical view of the universe, as if everything just kept repeating. Instead, it offers us a linear view of history, with a real beginning, a definite trajectory, and a conclusive end. So much of the time we are stuck in the here-and-now, maybe only looking a few years ahead. Yet God invites us into his perspective regarding time, where the story that we are living in the midst of will finally be brought to a close. That end is not likely to be a nice, quiet affair. Rather, as we can see from human history, it will probably shake things up. The Bible frequently describes the end in terms of war, famine, pestilence, conflict, and division. In this Sunday’s first reading, we get a glimpse of the climactic close of the age and what will happen afterwards.

Who is Michael?

The passage from Daniel 12:1-3 presents “Michael, the great prince” (RSV). He will come as a great deliverer of God’s people. Now Michael himself is often celebrated in Christian art—the heroic, sword-wielding archangel, who makes for a great boys’ All Saints Day costume. Yet Michael is mentioned very few times in the Bible – here in Daniel (10:13, 21; 12:1), and then again in Jude 1:9 and Rev 12:7. Michael is one of the seven archangels. Wait! There are seven? Well, Catholic tradition normally only recognizes three: Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael—the only ones mentioned in the biblical text. Yet Tobit 12:15 calls Raphael “one of the seven holy angels,” a thought which is revisited in Revelation 8:2, 6, which also mentions seven angels. Non-biblical traditions have identified the names of the other four angels as Uriel, Sariel, Ramiel, and Raguel (though these are uncertain and disputed). Michael’s name in Hebrew means “Who is like God?” His very name is a provocation, a taunt to God’s enemies. The Church invokes Michael’s protection in the context of spiritual warfare. Both in Daniel 12 and Revelation 12, Michael is depicted as leading the angelic armies in battle, so he can help us in combat too.

Which Battle?

Daniel 12 depicts a battle, but context makes it difficult for us to parse exactly which battle we’re talking about. The previous chapter spoke at length in cryptic terms about the Maccabean revolt, the persecution of Antiochus IV Epiphanes and his downfall. The very end of chapter 11 describes the fall of a certain king, who could be identified as Antiochus, but many identify this king as the anti-Christ. So Daniel 12 could either be referring to the battle at the end of time or to the battles of the Jewish revolt against Antiochus in the second century BC. However, if it does refer to the Maccabean revolt, that would not be all that surprising since angelic forces show up to aid the Jews in this time (see 2 Macc 3:25-26; 10:29; 11:6). Either way, God sends Michael to the aid of his people in the midst of combat. If this is the same battle mentioned in Revelation 12:7, then we can identify it with spiritual warfare.

Read the rest here.

Fr. Robert Barron on The Meaning of Easter

How do we know Jesus rose from the dead?

To Rise Again: Scott Hahn Reflects on the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

The following comes from Scott Hahn:

2 Maccabees 7:1-2, 9-14
Psalm 17:1,5-6,8,15
2 Thessalonians 2:16-3:5
Luke 20:27-38

With their riddle about seven brothers and a childless widow, the Sadducees in today’s Gospel mock the faith for which seven brothers and their mother die in the First Reading.

The Maccabean martyrs chose death - tortured limb by limb, burned alive - rather than betray God’s Law. Their story is given to us in these last weeks of the Church year to strengthen us for endurance - that our feet not falter but remain steadfast on His paths.

The Maccabeans died hoping that the “King of the World” would raise them to live again forever (see 2 Maccabees 14:46).

The Sadducees don’t believe in the Resurrection because they can’t find it literally taught in the Scriptures. To ridicule this belief they fix on a law that requires a woman to marry her husband’s brother if he should die without leaving an heir (see Genesis 38:8; Deuteronomy 25:5).

But God’s Law wasn’t given to ensure the raising up of descendants to earthly fathers. The Law was given, as Jesus explains, to make us worthy to be “children of God” - sons and daughters born of His Resurrection.

“God our Father,” today’s Epistle tells us, has given us “everlasting encouragement” in the Resurrection of Christ. Through His grace, we can now direct our hearts to the love of God.

As the Maccabeans suffered for the Old Law, we will have to suffer for our faith in the New Covenant. Yet He will guard us in the shadow of His wing, keep us as the apple of His eye, as we sing in today’s Psalm.

The Maccabeans’ persecutors marveled at their courage. We too can glorify the Lord in our sufferings and in the daily sacrifices we make.

And we have even greater cause than they for hope. One who has risen from the dead has given us His word - that He is the God of the living, that when we awake from the sleep of death we will behold His face, be content in His presence (see Psalm 76:6; Daniel 12:2).