Easter Sunday: Risen Indeed

The tradition I handed on to you in the first place, a tadition which I had myself received, was that Christ died for our sins, in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried; and that on the third day, he was raised to life, in accordance with the scriptures; and that he appeared to Cephas; and later to the Twelve; and next he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers at the same time . . . . This is what we preach and what you believed. --Corinthians 15:3-6,11

Easter Vigil. The Lord is risen indeed. They shouted it in French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Dutch, and Arabic. There were bells, alleluias, smiles, laughter, and a deep sense that there is hope. This community of handicapped people and their assistants was loudly proclaiming that Christ's body did not remain in the tomb, but was raised to new life, and that our own bodies will join him in glory.

While all this joy was filling the chapel, I saw that Nathan stood up with Philippe in his arms and left the church. Philippe's body is severely distorted. He cannot speak, walk, dress, or feed himself and needs help every second of his waking hours. He had been lying in an assistant's lap, quietly sleeping. but when the celebration became more lively he started to howl, an anguishing howl coming from deep down in his being . . . .

When I saw Philippe in Nathan's arms I suddenly realized what we were proclaiming on this Easter vigil. Philippe's body is a body destined to a new life, a resurrected life. In his new body he will carry the signs of his suffering, just as Jesus carried the wounds of the crucifixion into his glory. And yet he will no longer be suffering, but will join the saints around the altar of the lamb.

Still, the celebration of the resurrection of the body is also the celebration of the daily care given to the bodies of these handicapped men and women. Washing and feeding, pushing wheelchairs, carrying, kissing, and caressing--these are all ways in which these broken bodies are made ready for the moment of a new life. Not only their wounds but also the care given them will remain visible in the resurrection.

It is a great and powerful mystery. Philippe's poor distorted body will one day be buried and return to dust. But he will rise again on the day of the resurrection of the dead.

He will rise from the grave with a new body and will show gloriously the pain he suffered and the love he received. It will not be just a body. It will be his body, a new body, a body that can be touched but is no longer subject to torture and destruction. His passion will be over.

What a faith! What a hope! What a love! The body is not a prison to escape from, but a temple in which God already dwells, and in which God's glory will be fully manifested on the day of the resurrection.

Easter season is a time of hope. There still is fear, there still is a painful awareness of sinfulness, but there also is light breaking through. Something new is happening, something that goes beyond the changing moods of our life. We can be joyful or sad, optimistic or pessimistic, tranquil or angry, but the solid stream of God's presence moves deeper than the small waves of our minds and hearts. Easter brings the awareness that God is present even when his presence is not directly noticed. Easter brings the good news that, although things seem to get worse in the world, the Evil One has already been overcome. Easter allows us to affirm that although God seems very distant and although we remain preoccupied with many little things, our Lord walks with us on the road and keeps explaining the Scriptures to us. Thus there are many rays of hope casting their light on our way through life.

Our Prayer

Almighty, everlasting God,
on this day
you conquered death through your son
and opened for us the path to eternal life.
And so we celebrate in joy
the feast of his resurrection.
Make us new through your Spirit,
so that we too may rise
and walk in the light of life.
We ask this through Jesus Christ.

Source: Henri J.M. Nouwen, Show me the way (Crossroad Publishing Company, 1992). Used by permission.

Mortification

You cannot have forgotten that all of us, when we were baptized into Christ Jesus, were baptized into his death. So by our baptism into his death we were buried with him . . . . But we believe that, if we died with Christ, then we shall live with him too.--Romans 6:3-4, 8

If the God who revealed life to us, and whose only desire is to bring us to life, loved us so much that he wanted to experience with us the total absurdity of death, then--yes, then there must be hope; then there must be something more than death; then there must be a promise that is not fulfilled in our short existence in this world; then leaving behind the ones you love, the flowers and the trees, the mountains and the oceans, the beauty of art and music, and all the exuberant gifts of life cannot be just the destruction and cruel end of all things; then indeed we have to wait for the third day.

But mortification--literally, "making death"--is what life is all about, a slow discovery of the mortality of all that is created so that we can appreciate its beauty without clinging to it as if it were a lasting possession. Our lives can indeed be seen as a process of becoming familiar iwth death, as a school in the art of dying. I do not mean this in a morbid way. On the contrary, when we see life constantly relativized by death, we can enjoy it for what it is: a free gift. The pictures, letters, and books of the past reveal life to us as a constant saying of farewell to beautiful places, good people, and wonderful experiences. All these times have passed by like friendly visitors, leaving us with dear memories but also with the sad recognition of the shortness of life. In every arrival there is a leave-taking; in every reunion there is a separation; in each one's growing up there is a growing old; in every smile there is a tear; and in every success there is a loss. All living is dying, and all celebration is mortification too.

Our Prayer

I call to you, Yahweh, all day.
I stretch out my hands to you.
Do you work wonders for the dead,
can shadows rise up to praise you?
Do they speak in the grave of your faithful love,
of your constancy in the place of perdition?
Are your wonders known in the darkness,
your saving justice in the land of oblivion?
But, for my part. I cry to you, Yahweh,
every morning my prayer comes before you.
--Psalm 88:9-13

Source: Henri J.M. Nouwen, Show me the way (Crossroad Publishing Company, 1992). Used by permission.

Cross of Hope

By Henri J.M. Nouwen

After Jesus had taken the wine he said, "It is fulfilled"; and bowing his head he gave up his spirit . . . .

One of the soldiers pierced his side with a lance; and immediately there came out blood and water. This is the evidence of one who saw it--true evidence, and he knows that what he says is true--and he gives it so that you may believe as well. Because all this happened to fulfill the words of scripture: . . .

They will look to the one whom they have pierced. -- John 19:30, 34-37

Good Friday: day of the cross, day of suffering, day of hope, day of abandonment, day of victory, day of mourning, day of joy, day of endings, day of beginnings.

During the liturgy of Trosly, Père Thomas and Père Gilbert . . . took the huge cross that hangs behind the altar from the wall and held it so that the whole community could come and kiss the dead body of Christ. They all came, more than four hundred people--handicapped men and women and their assistants and friends. Everybody seemed to know very well that they were doing: expressing their love and gratitude for him who gave his life for them.

As they were crowding around the cross and kissing the feet and head of Jesus, I closed my eyes and could see his sacred body stretched out and crucified upon our planet earth. I saw the immense suffering of humanity during the centuries: people killing each other; people dying from starvation and epidemics; people driven from their homes; people sleeping on the streets of large cities; people clinging to each other in desperation; people flagellated, tortured, burned, and mutilated; people alone in locked flats, in prison dungeons, in labor camps; people craving a gentle word, a friendly letter, a consoling embrace, people . . . all crying out with an anguished voice: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?"

Imagining the naked, lacerated body of Christ stretched out over our globe, I was filled with horror. But as I opened my eyes I saw Jacques, who bears the marks of suffering in his face, kiss the body with passion and tears in his eyes. I saw Ivan carried on Michael's back. I saw Edith coming in her wheelchair. As they came--walking or limping, seeing or blind, hearing or deaf--I saw the endless procession of humanity gathering around the sacred body of Jesus, covering it with their tears and their kisses, and slowing moving away from it comforted and consoled by such great love . . . . With my mind's eye I saw the huge crowds of isolated, agonizing individuals walking away from the cross together, bound by the love they had seen with their own eyes and touched with their own lips. The cross of horror became the cross of hope, the tortured body became the body that gives new life; the gaping wounds became the source of forgiveness, healing, reconciliation.

Our Prayer

O dear Lord, what can I say to you?
Is there any word that could come from my mouth,
any thought? any sentence?
You died for me, you gave all for my sins,
you not only became man for me
bust also suffered the most cruel death for me.
Is there any response?
I wish that I could find a fitting response,
but in contemplating your holy passion and death
I can only confess humbly to you
that the immensity of your divine love
makes any response seem totally inadequate.
Let me just stand and look at you.
Your body is broken, your head wounded,
your hands and feet are split open by nails,
your side is pierced.
Your dead body now rests
in the arms of your Mother.
It is all over now. It is finished.
It is fulfilled. It is accomplished.
Sweet Lord, gracious Lord,
generous Lord, forgiving Lord,
I adore you, I praise you, I thank you.
You have made all things new
through your passion and death.
Your cross has been planted in this world
as the new sign of hope.
Let me always live under your cross, O Lord,
and proclaim the hope of your cross unceasingly.
Amen.


Source: Henri J.M. Nouwen, Show me the way (Crossroad Publishing Company, 1992). Used by permission.

New and Eternal Covenant

By Henri J.M. Nouwen

Holy Thursday

Jesus . . . removed his outer garments and, taking a towel, wrapped it round his waist; he then poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel he was wearing . . . . [He said], "I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you." --John 13:4-5, 15

Just before entering on the road of his passion he washed the feet of his disciples and offered them his body and blood as food and drink. These two acts belong together. They are both an expression of God's determination to show us the fullness of his love. Therefore John introduces the story of the washing of the disciples' feet with the words: "Jesus . . . having loved those who were his in the world, loved them to the end" (John 13:1).

What is even more astonishing is that on both occasions Jesus commands us to do the same. After washing his disciples' feet, Jesus, "I have given you an example so you may copy what I have done to you" (John 13:15). After giving himself as food and drink, he says, "Do this in remembrance of me" (Luke 22:19). Jesus calls us to continue his mission of revealing the perfect love of God in this world. He calls us to total self-giving. He does not want us to keep anything for ourselves. Rather, he wants our love to be as full, as radical, and as complete as his own. He wants us to bend ourselves to the ground and touch the places in each other that most need washing. He also wants us to say to each other, "Eat of me and drink of me." By this complete mutual nurturing, he wants us to become one body and one spirit, united by the Love of God.

I'm looking at you, Lord. You have said so many loving words. Your heart has spoken so clearly. Now you want to show me even more clearly how much you love me. Knowing that your Father has put everything in your hands, that you have come from God and returning to God, you remove your outer garments and, taking a towel, you wrap it around your waist, pour water into a basin and begin to wash my feet, and then wipe them with the towel you are wearing . . . .

You look at me with utter tenderness, saying, "I want you to be with me. I want you to have a full share in my life. I want you to belong to me as much as I belong to my Father. I want to wash you completely clean so that you and I can be one and so that you can do to others what I have done to you."

I am looking at you again, Lord. You stand up and invite me to the table. As we are eating, you take bread, say the blessing, break the bread, and give it to me. "Take and eat," you say, "this is my body given for you." Then you take a cup, and, after giving thanks, you hand it to me, saying, "This is my blood, the blood of the new covenant poured out for you." Knowing that your hour has come to pass from this world to your Father and having loved me, you now love me to the end. You give me everything that you have and are. You pour out for me your very self. All the love that you carry for me in your heart now becomes manifest. You wash my feet and then give me your own body and blood as food and drink.

O Lord, how can I ever go anywhere else but to you to find the love I so desire!

Every time we celebrate the Eucharist and receive the bread and wine, the body and blood of Jesus, his suffering and his death become a suffering and death for us. Passion becomes compassion, for us. We are incorporated into Jesus. We become part of his "body" and in the most compassionate way are freed from our deepest solitude. Through the Eucharist we come to belong to Jesus in the most intimate way, to him who has suffered for us, died for us, and rose again so that we may suffer, die, and rise again with him.

Our Prayer

Almighty, everlasting God,
on the evening before he suffered
your beloved son entrusted to the church
the sacrifice of the new and eternal covenant
and founded the banquet of his love.
Grant that from this mystery
we may receive the fullness of life and love.
We ask this through Jesus Christ.

Source: Henri J.M. Nouwen, Show me the way (Crossroad Publishing Company, 1992). Used by permission.

Sacred Space

One time a week during Lent we'll send a message to our ZOE-Wineskins list, showing you good resources that help prepare our lives for receiving Christ in Easter celebration - that's what Lent is all about.

So this week we're bringing you Lent reflections from Sacred Space and using them by permission. I bought the small book and have been "enjoying" it. I heard of an old Catholic mother who said, "If you're enjoying Lent, you're doing it wrong."

A friend once said the difference between happiness and joy is that joy comes through suffering and happiness is attempted by avoiding suffering.

Sacred Space Lent page is excellent. After you read this short summary they provide of what it means to prepare for Easter, I encourage you to go to Sacred Space Lent page and use this excellent resource. If you contact them, please let them know you heard about Sacred Space from Wineskins.



Greg Taylor
managing editor
www.wineskins.org




Click here to see Sacred Space Lent page

In summary, the Lenten preparation for Easter could be summed up in these points:

* Lent is about turning back to God; God is always turned towards us and looking for contact and communication ("Turn to me and be saved," Isaiah 45:22).

The Israelites in the desert were forgetful and had to be reminded by Moses about all the good things God had done for them (Deut 26:1-11). We need to take time to remember how lucky we are, to consider what God has done for us and to appreciate the blessings that are ours.

* God's promise is one of Good News - 'Gospel' - of 'good things' for us, a better life and more fulfilment; i.e. being led out of 'slavery' (sin as 'slavery' to lesser goods) and into the fullness of life in God.

* Reconciliation, or healing our life, is possible only through realising that we are forgiven, even though we don't deserve it. We can recall the story of the Prodigal Son, the classic Lenten text, in the light of God's great love for us through Christ, his amazing love & self-gift. (The Gospel of the Prodigal Son - Luke 15:1-32 - is read on 18 March this year).

* Inevitably Lent involves commitment to change, through this free gift of God's love; a conversion of heart and priorities that will mean decisions and doing things differently.

* Easter Sunday will then take on its fuller meaning: that we have died with Christ on Good Friday to our 'old selves' and destructive ways, and have been 're-born' on Easter Sunday with Christ to a new life in him. Easter always has strong echoes of Baptism for us as we touch the water, hear the words and celebrate with our communities.