Letter for the year
Easter, stained-glass window by Brother Eric of Taizé
The Easter Gospel tells of a woman, Mary Magdalene, weeping, full of confusion, as if Jesus’ death had sealed the failure of all her hopes. Yet whereas the apostles of Jesus hid behind locked doors out of fear, she went to the tomb. This act expressed not only her grief, but also an expectation, however confused it may have been. It was the longing for a love that the greatest suffering could not completely wipe out.
So Jesus, the Risen Lord, came to her. And he did this in a completely unexpected way, not triumphantly, but so humbly that she did not recognize him, taking him for the gardener.
Jesus called her by name, "Mary", and that would change everything. Mary recognized in her heart the voice of Jesus. She turned to him and called him in turn: “Rabbouni, Lord”. A new life began in her; she was confident that Jesus was close to her, even if his presence was now different. Then the Risen Christ sent her: "Go to my brothers; tell them that I am risen!” Her life received a new meaning; she had a task to accomplish.
We too are like Mary Magdalene at the tomb. As there was in her, there is a longing in us, and often unresolved questions. Sometimes we feel this longing as a lack or as emptiness. We may express it by a cry of distress or, without words, by a simple sigh. In that way our being begins to open up to God. It is the longing, even confused, for a communion; it already allows us to live by trusting in God.
Then Christ calls us by our own name. He knows each one of us personally. He tells us: "Go to my brothers and sisters; tell them that I am risen. Convey my love by your life." Our world, in which so many people are disoriented, needs women and men who take the risk of moving forward along the path of faith and love. And Mary Magdalene’s courage stimulates us. She, a lone woman, dared to go to the apostles of Jesus to tell them the unbelievable news: "Christ is risen!" She knew how to convey the love of God by her life.
Each of us can communicate this trust in Christ. And then something surprising happens: it is by transmitting the mystery of the resurrection of Christ that we understand it more and more. Then this mystery becomes ever more central in our lives; it can transform our existence.
But how can we express this mystery? For the disciples of Jesus, his resurrection was something so new that words failed them. And yet they dared to try and communicate what could scarcely be put into words: Christ loved and forgave until the end; he is the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (see the stained glass reproduced above). His love was stronger than death; he broke the infernal circle of violence; he rose from the dead and is present through the Holy Spirit. That is the source of a hope beyond all hope.
At the end of the first letter he sent to the believers in Corinth, Paul speaks of the resurrection, taking up the words of those who believed before him: "I handed on to you what I myself received, namely that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, he was buried, he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, he appeared to Cephas, then to the Twelve" (1 Corinthians 15:3-5). Like him, we can build on the faith of the Christians who have gone before us. Alone, it is difficult to believe in the resurrection. It is through the experience of the communion of all Christians, of the whole Church, that our faith flourishes.
How can we renew in our daily lives such a personal communion with the Risen Christ, always present? When we read a few words of the Gospel, he is the one we encounter. In the Eucharist, we receive the gift of his life. When we come together in his name, he is in our midst. And then there is this amazing road on which he comes to us: he is also present in those who are entrusted to us, especially those who are poorer than we are. He said it himself: "I was hungry and you gave me to eat; I was a stranger and you welcomed me" (Matthew 25:35).
One day, I was visiting the brothers of our community who live in the North-East of Brazil. For years they have been sharing the life of a very poor neighborhood. They welcome children, young people, among them deaf-mutes and the blind. One of those young people caught my attention: he was blind and his face was completely disfigured, to such an extent that it was difficult to look at him for very long. All at once, in a firm voice that blind boy began to sing: "I see God! I see God in the laughter of a child. I see God in the waves of the sea. I see God in the hand that gives to the poor…" His voice was full of life and hope; it was like a hymn of resurrection.
More and more today, people have difficulty believing in the resurrection. Believing in Christ, believing in his presence in the world, even if it is invisible, believing that through the Holy Spirit he dwells in our hearts, is the risk which the feast of Easter invites us to run. Daring to rely on this presence. In that way the resurrection of Christ gives new meaning to our lives and it also kindles a hope for the world.
That hope is so creative. Without it, discouragement becomes a real temptation for many. It can affect our personal relationships and can cause us to become resigned to our future, to the future of the world and of all creation.
In the face of suffering, violence and exploitation, the Gospel causes a source of new hope to flow. Let us not allow anything to obstruct that source. Will we let ourselves be touched by the presence of the Risen Christ, who is alongside each and every one of us?