An Easter Vigil Homily

Readings: Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Ps 118; Col 3:1-4; Jn 20:1-9

Statue of Jesus on the main facade of St. Peter's Basilica at the Vatican

I have a friend who’s a practicing Jew, bordering on the orthodox. He and his family make a conscious effort to follow the precepts of Jewish Law, a not so simple task in today's a-religious society.

Over the years we've had some long discussions that often center on religion. And as you might expect, because we each hold some very strong beliefs, these conversations can become quite animated. But perhaps the most interesting aspect of these exchanges is that, more often than not, we find ourselves is complete agreement. My friend, you see, has tremendous respect for the Catholic Church, which he once called, "one of the few beacons of sanity in an otherwise insane world."

I bring him up tonight because of something he said to me a few years ago. We were discussing how so many of today's evils are really, at their core, the fruits of selfishness. At this point, my friend looked at me and said, "It's more than selfishness. It's really a form of despair, because for so many people, this is it. They see nothing else but this life. They live their lives as if God, eternal life, heaven and hell are mere words. And so they focus all their efforts on the gratification of what they see as their immediate needs and wants.

"In one very limited sense, they are optimists, but only short-term optimists. This is why there is such a sense of urgency to all that they do. They need to 'get theirs' before it's all over. For in the long run they are pessimists.

"But you and I," he said, "Christian and Jew, are just the opposite. Yes, we may look at the world and all its evils, shake our heads, and express a sort of pessimism, but only in the short term. For our faith guarantees our long-term optimism. We know that God, a loving and just God, is in charge of it all, and that He has prepared a place for those who believe in Him and do His will."

Brothers and sisters, what does all this have to do with tonight's celebration, our celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus? Well, just about everything. For today we come face-to-face with the Risen Christ, the very source of our faith and hope – the fuel for that Christian optimism that keeps us going even during the darkest moments of our lives.

When we look again at the Gospel reading from John, we see Mary Magdalene finding the tomb empty and running back to the Apostles to let them know. Why was Mary going to the tomb? Because Jesus had died on the very eve of the Sabbath, prohibiting the anointing of His body immediately after His death. Yes, Mary, along with the other women, returned to the tomb at dawn on Sunday prepared to do their duty to the Master, the One they love.

You see, Mary, like the Apostles and the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, didn’t expect the Resurrection. Jesus, the One in Whom they had placed all their hopes, had not only died, but died the ignominious death of a criminal. In a display of courage sorely lacking among the Apostles, the women had been there, at the very foot of the Cross, joined only by the young John.

The women knew He had died. They had heard Him take His last breath. They had seen the soldier's lance pierce His heart. They had grieved with His Mother as she cradled her Son's lifeless body in her arms. And they had seen that body placed hurriedly in the tomb.

Oh, yes, they knew He had died. And in their overwhelming grief, a grief of emptiness and tinged with an underlying fear, they made their way to the tomb of a dead man. They, like all the disciples, hadn’t understood Jesus when He spoke of His Resurrection. And faced with the finality of death, their faith and their hope had all but disappeared. All that was left was their love. And it is this love for Jesus that carried them along the path to the tomb that first Easter morning.

But when they arrive, they find that the huge stone no longer blocks the entrance. It has been rolled away. The tomb is empty. What has happened? They don't know what to make of it, and their hearts are bursting with a jumble of emotions: confusion, astonishment, fear.

In Mark’s Gospel they also encounter a young man, who appears and tells them not to be amazed. For the One they seek, the One Who was crucified, the One Who had died before their very eyes, is risen. In the shock of sudden revelation, they realize that death has not had the last word, but that the Word has overcome death. With this revelation, faith and hope explode into their hearts. Like St. Paul in tonight's epistle, the meaning of this glorious event becomes crystal clear. They too will be united with Him in the Resurrection. And just as suddenly, all of His teachings, every word He uttered, take on new meaning. Now they know what He meant by the Kingdom of God, for it is in their very midst, catapulted into the here and now by the Resurrection.

Matthew in describing this same event, tells us that the women left the tomb "fearful yet overjoyed." Fear and joy – a rare combination of emotions that I suspect exist only in the presence of God. Oh, yes, they were fearful, for they had just witnessed God's awesome power, and for the first time truly understand Who Jesus is. He is the Messiah. He is the Redeemer. He is the Chosen One. He is the Son of God. It is this same understanding, and all that it brings with it, that makes them so joyful. He is risen! And so too have all of His promises, that suddenly make such perfect sense.

Yes, they are overjoyed. Overjoyed that their trust in Jesus had not been misplaced. Overjoyed that they, like all of us, are the object of God's overwhelming love. Overjoyed because pessimism has turned to optimism, despair has turned to hope – and that tiny kernel of faith, almost lost during the dark hours after the crucifixion, has blossomed into a sure knowledge of redemption.

Perhaps Mary Magdalene understood this best. Later in Mark’s Gospel, we read that Our Risen Lord appeared first to Mary Magdalene. Have you ever wondered why Jesus appeared first to Mary? It really makes perfect sense. Mary – she who had been dead in the slavery of her sin, she who had been sealed in a tomb of her own making – had been given new life through the healing power of God's love and forgiveness. Jesus knew that she, who had experienced this power in her own resurrection from the deadness of sin, would believe.

Who better to break the news – the Good News – to a sinful world. For Mary Magdalene is what every woman and every man is called to be. She is the sinner who became the saint. She is living proof of the power of God's redeeming love. She is the fruit of Christ's Resurrection.

And so today, as we receive the gift of Our Lord’s Body and Blood in the Eucharist, let’s lift our hearts and minds in thanksgiving and celebrate Christ's victory over death and sin, a victory that resounded throughout the universe. St. John Chrysostom, the great fourth-century preacher, said it best:

Poor death, where is your sting?
Poor hell, where is your triumph?
Christ steps out of the tomb and you are reduced to nothing.
Christ rises and the angels are wild with delight.
Christ rises and the graves are emptied of the dead.
Oh, yes, for He broke from the tomb like a flower, a beautiful fruit: the first fruit of those already gone.
All glory and power be His, through every age…forever and ever.
Amen.