Alice and the Empty Tomb (Jn 21:1-14)

 

In the story of Alice in Wonderland, Alice argues with the White Queen and says, “You can’t believe impossible things”.  The Queen takes offense and replies to Alice, “I daresay you haven’t had much practice.  When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast” (Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll, Chp 5).  The Queen never reveals what those six things are, but I wonder, would she think the resurrection is one of those impossible things to believe?

All belief—whether religious or some other kind—derives from personal experience.  Belief is simply the result of interpreting our experience and deciding what that experience means to us.  In other words, belief is a conclusion we reach about how things are based on the evidence we have at hand.  This process helps explain how the early disciples who encountered the risen Christ came to believe in his resurrection. 

The basic evidence for the resurrection is threefold—the empty tomb, the many post resurrection appearances stories, and the testimony of those who encountered the risen Christ.  Those of us today might include the additional evidence of the faith traditions that arose during the following centuries.  Despite such evidence, the reality of the resurrection remains an open question for many today.    

Paul takes on the question about the resurrection in his letter to the Corinthians.  In that letter, Paul writes that, “if there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised.  And, if Christ has not been raised,” Paul says his preaching is in vain.  “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ,” Paul writes, “then we are the most pitiable people of all” (1 Cor 14:19).  Paul makes this claim with the confidence of faith because he has firsthand experience of the risen Christ.  For Paul, therefore, the reality of the resurrection of Christ is proof positive of our own personal resurrection that will follow (1 Cor 15:22).

Paul’s story is not the first nor the only meaningful story about the resurrection.  The stories of those who encounter the risen Christ before Paul are legendary, beginning with Peter and the disciples who encounter the risen Jesus on the beach after a night of unsuccessful fishing.  When Peter hears that the Lord is on the beach, he jumps in the water and wades toward Jesus.  He hears, he sees, and he believes.  The demonstration of Peter’s belief becomes a familiar pattern for other appearance stories.

When Mary Magdalene, for example, first encounters the risen Lord, she thinks he is the gardener.  When she hears Jesus call her name, she sees that it is the Lord who speaks to her and she believes (Jn 20:16).  She hears, she sees, and she believes.  The same is true for the disciples on the road to Emmaus, and for the Apostles in the Upper Room who encounter the risen Lord.  They see, they hear, and they believe.

Of all the post resurrection appearance stories, however, the experience of Thomas perhaps holds the most meaning for us today.  When Thomas joins the Apostles in the Upper Room, he refuses to believe their claim of having seen the risen Lord without hardcore evidence.  He wants to see and touch the wounds of Christ.  Once that happens, Thomas believes.  Jesus then says to Thomas, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me?  Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed” (Jn 20:29). 

Today, we are among those who have not seen nor heard the risen Christ up close and personal like the early disciples.  Our experience is much more indirect.  We encounter the risen Lord primarily through Word and sacrament, and through those we encounter in our daily lives.  Yet, the pattern and process of forming belief as reflected in the post resurrection appearance stories are the same for us as for the early disciples.

These stories show that Jesus takes the initiative and looks for us; he does not wait for us to look for him.  The risen Jesus went looking for the early disciples and came to them where they were.  These stores also show that Jesus gives us time to believe; he doesn’t expect instantaneous belief.  The risen Jesus allowed each of the early disciples to believe at their own pace and in their own way.  Each of the disciples followed a different path in coming to believe in the resurrection.

For us today, we too follow many different paths and time frames to encounter the risen Lord.  In one way or another, Jesus finds us and we hear, we see, and we believe.  The resurrection, therefore, is not one of those impossible things to believe as Alice’s White Queen might have it.  We believe in the resurrection of the Lord because we know that, with God, all things are possible (Lk 1:36-37; Mt 19:25-26).

In his final Easter message, Pope Francis explained the meaning of the resurrection in this way:  "Love has triumphed over hatred, light over darkness and truth over falsehood.  Forgiveness has triumphed over revenge.  Evil has not disappeared from history; it will remain until the end, but it no longer has the upperhand; it no longer has power over those who accept the grace of this [Easter] day." 

Easter is a Celebration of Life (Jn 20:1-9)

 

Today is a joyful celebration of life.  We are joyful not only because our Lenten journey of preparation has ended.  Today, we celebrate a renewed faith and journey into the mystery and the hope of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Jesus the Anointed One, the Son of Man and the Son of God, is the source of our celebration.  Jesus Christ is the light of the world who gives light to our journey into the mystery of his resurrection, and calls us to embrace the hope of iHii   what and who His light reveals.  Jesus calls us to embrace the breadth and depth of His light and His Spirit as we journey with him in a renewed commitment of faith to his way of life.

We are like the disciple Jesus loved who went into the empty tomb and believed.  Today, we are the disciples Jesus loves and we believe.  Jesus prayed that all those who believe in him will be one with him and the Father, just as he and the Father are one (Jn 17:20-22).  We are children of the light (Mt 5:14).  We are the handiwork of God, created in Christ Jesus for good works that God has already prepared for each of us to do (Ep 2:10).  The celebration of Easter marks our call to become one with God by believing in Jesus Christ and imitating his good works.

For us, the vision offered by the empty tomb is therefore not one of death, but of life.  Not one of despair, but of hope.  This vision of hope speaks to the nature of our calling—to be visionaries of life and hope to all, especially to those who are near and dear to us.  Our hope is that our light, in turn, will lead others in their journey to the Father (Mt 5:16).

Our journey of faith can be a challenge at times, for sure.  Like the ancient Hebrews, saved by God from the overwhelming challenge of the Red Sea, we too often face challenges on our journey.  Each of us faces our own Red Sea, and when we do, the light of Christ helps us navigate the rough waters.  Sometimes we don’t even realize who helped us.  Sometimes we mistakenly think we helped ourselves, we did it all on our own.  Sometimes we don’t see that the single set of footsteps in the wet land of the pushed back waters belong to the one who carries us—Jesus Christ, the light of the world. 

And so, what do we do when we get to the other side of our Red Sea (and, by the way, sometimes we go through the Red Sea more than once)?  We accept the fact that we are not alone.  We are not abandoned.  We have the light of Christ who gives us the courage and determination to continue our journey of faith (Jn 1: 9-12). 

The prophet Ezekiel helps us understand how to fulfill our commitment of faith.  Speaking on behalf of the Lord, Ezekiel says that the Lord will remove our hearts of stone and give us a new heart and a new spirit.  Our new hearts will be made of flesh and will enable us to walk in the way of the Lord and keep his statutes (Ez 36:26-27).  This natural heart, infused with the Spirit of God, is the heart God gave us at our creation.  

It’s just that sometimes, struggles and disappointments in life often lead to bitterness and resentment, and these become stones in our hearts.  These stones make it harder to love ourselves and others, let alone God.  When we allow God to remove our stony hearts and restore our natural hearts, however, we can do the will of the Father, especially in how we treat others.

We know from scripture what Jesus expects of us—feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, welcome the stranger.  Jesus is the voice of love that we have heard many times.  Our belief and hope in the resurrection make it easier to follow his call to do the will of his heavenly Father.  We listen and find the courage to stop judging ourselves and others.  We treat ourselves and each other the way God treats us—with great tenderness and enduring love.  We reject oppression.  We become peacemakers.  We accept the truth that we receive God’s love without cost, without effort.  We seek the Lord where he may be found.  We live in the light of Christ and are able to perceive that God is near to us.  Whether we are in the Red Sea or on the other side, God calls us to listen to His beloved Son “that we may have life to the full” (Jn 10:10).

Living our faith is truly a life-long spiritual process of renewal and conversion.  In that sense, Easter is a celebration of the Lord finding each of us—AND—each of us finding the Lord.  This life-giving hunt for each other is a spiritual journey that may wax and wane, but ultimately leads to our spiritual healing.  All healing comes from the risen Christ, who continually shines his light to show us the way to the Father.

For that reason, our celebration today includes gratitude for our relationship with Jesus Christ, for this relationship of faith brings salvation and makes us whole (Knight, “Living God’s Word”).   But, faith in Jesus Christ is not the result of a mere passive belief in the Word of God.  We can’t go limp and just wait for Jesus to carry us off to heaven.  Rather, the Word of God compels action, and true faith is our response to that Word.  Faith in the risen Jesus Christ is therefore nothing less than a new life in the Spirit, carried out in word and deed. 

Living in the Spirit means that we dare to be Christ to others.  We dare to be Christ each time we renew our commitment to be just and good to others.  We live in the Spirit of Christ when we do not give up on life just because virtue does not pay off, or when things don’t go our way.  Life in the Spirit enables us to remain true to our convictions even when doing so appears to us as a disadvantage.  The Spirit empowers us to be true to ourselves and true to our conscience as disciples of Christ.

As Pope Francis reminds us, the Spirit of Christ prepares the whole Christian community of disciples to care for those who are most vulnerable so that no one is ever robbed of hope for a better future.  Our sure guide in this way of life is the Lord’s words in the great parable on the Last Judgement: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” for “just as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did it to me” (Mt 25:35-40; Spes non confundit, Pope Francis 2025, 13). 

For that reason, the Spirit enables each of us to be loving, kind, patient, understanding, merciful and just towards others, especially the poor and marginalized members of society.  Clearly, we are not all these things to all people at all times.  But gradually, over time, and sometimes even with great effort, we can live as disciples of Christ in the fullest sense with the help of the Holy Spirit.  All that God wants and expects from us is sincere, honest effort to do what we can.

In the end, life in the Spirit of Christ is a gift of the Holy Spirit offered to all.  We accept and develop that gift in a fundamental way with the light of Christ.  The light of Christ directs our lives and leads us on our journey through life.  The sign posts for the journey given by Jesus are simple.  Trust in Jesus and allow God to make us whole.  Here I am Lord.  Tell me what to do Lord, and I will do it.  We hear, we act, and we are made whole (Is 55:2-3).

We thus have reason to be thankful to God in our Easter celebration of the resurrection.  We all need the light of Christ to grow in faith by leaving behind an old way of life and taking up a new one.  The new way that we seek is the way of the Lord.  Finding that way is a spiritual rebirth and gift from Jesus Christ, the Light of the World.  Our hope is to embrace his light to the fullest extent as we once again celebrate our Easter gift of faith.

The Son cries out, but the Father does not answer (Mt. 27:46)

 

Nailed to the cross for our salvation, Jesus cries out to the Father, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  This is a painful cry of desolation that we hear from Jesus.  With these words, Jesus seems to express despair in the face of his suffering.  No wonder.  His cross is the culmination of a hellish tragedy, laden with deceit, infidelity, betrayal, ridicule and rejection.  

Religious and political leaders have falsely accused Jesus.  His dearest and closest friends have fled in fear.  The crowds have mocked him and spit on him.  He has suffered the indescribable cruelty of crucifixion.  He is physically and morally exhausted.  Every ounce of energy gone.  Even the heavens have darkened in solidarity.  Is there any wonder that Jesus cries out in agony, “My god, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Yet, these are not words of despair.  These are words of protest.  Jesus protests his sense of abandonment and neglect.  His entire mission has been to do the will of his heavenly Father.  This was his only food by which he carried out his mission, emptying himself for others, proclaiming God’s kingdom, and doing good works.  And, Jesus had some measure of success—gathering a band of faithful followers and inspiring crowds to embrace his message of love and hope.  And now this—the injustice of the crucifixion—and the stone, cold silence of God.  The Son cries out, but the Father does not answer.

The Evangelist “does not hesitate to show Jesus in the utter agony of feeling forsaken as he faces a terrible death” (R. Brown, 44).  At his lowest moment, Jesus cries out in unity with the whole human condition.  We can understand the anguished prayer of Jesus in the Garden where he prayed for this cup to pass from him.  No wonder that, in the depths of his suffering on the cross, Jesus now confronts God with his pleading—but God does not answer.  God is silent.

The contrast between Jesus on the cross and Jesus in the desert at the beginning of his public ministry is stark indeed.  Jesus in the desert declares his unwavering faith in God, and the angels immediately come to his aid.  Jesus on the cross has proven his faith in God to the last, and yet, no one comes to his aid, not even God it seems.  This contrast, this undeserved abandonment, this is the injustice that Jesus questions with his protest.  And yet, God is silent.

Perhaps the explanation lies in plain sight at the foot of the cross.  No one is there except his holy Mother and his beloved disciple, and the idle passersby who mock Jesus with sneering contempt.  All those who should have been there are nowhere to be found—his disciples, his supporters, his friends.  Even the women who had followed Jesus and ministered to him watched from a distance.  All those whom Jesus held near and dear had left him alone in his greatest need.  Because he was abandoned by all, Jesus felt abandoned even by God.  Are we surprised that this is what drives his question—why have you forsaken me?  Why have you left me alone?  Despite his sorrowful pleading, Jesus does not hear the Voice of Love.

Sad to say that a similar fate awaits many in today’s society.  When those who should care for us abandon us, we often feel abandoned by God.  When we abandon those for whom we should care, they feel abandoned by God.  This is especially true for those who cannot fend for themselves—the young, the old, the homeless, those without resources, the weak.  Those who are isolated from a web of love and support often have a deep sense of powerlessness.  When their pleas for help go unanswered, they often feel abandoned.  Eventually, they feel abandoned even by God.  If they do not hear us, they do not hear God.

This is a sad and terrible fate that the prophet Isaiah warns against (58:7).  Isaiah warns us not to turn our backs on our own, especially the vulnerable and those who suffer.  We are called to see the face of Christ in the sufferer, even in those whom we think deserve to suffer.  Our commitment to Christ compels us to respond to suffering with love.  There is no place for self righteousness in regard to the suffering of our neighbor.  We, the Samaritan of today, stop by the side of the road, not out of curiosity, but out of solidarity, availability, sensitivity, and a willingness to be effective in our help (Salvifici doloris, 28-29, John Paul II).

Although our immediate response to suffering is invariably one of protest, our love for Christ and for others compels us to discover anew the meaning of suffering, not on a human level, but on God’s level.  On God’s level, love becomes the most effective response and antidote to suffering of any kind, especially suffering from hatred, violence, cruelty, contempt, and insensitivity.  Through his own life and mission of love, Christ taught us to care for those who suffer and to seek the good with our own suffering.

Christ is our model and our protector.  He has been in the depths of our suffering.  The crucified Christ understands how we feel when faced with insurmountable odds.  He knows what it means to feel all alone and without help from anyone.  Jesus knows the feeling of exhaustion, the fear of never being able to succeed, the horrible doubt of not having done enough or the right thing.  He knows the pain and isolation like those who are divorced, addicted to drugs or alcohol, battered or raped, out of work and without resources.  Jesus knows the feeling of depression and chronic disability.  Jesus understands the silence of God.

With his own life, crucifixion, and death, Jesus shows us that we are not alone in these experiences.  Because of our mutual need for care and understanding, there is solidarity among those who suffer.  Because of Christ’s constant concern and love for each of us, there is also solidarity with him, who suffers with us each time we suffer.  For this reason, all suffering is holy and deserves reverence.

The Anglican poet Elizabeth Lavers gives voice to this solidarity and reverence in her poem, “Why hast Thou forsaken me?”  Her loving verse of four stanzas with four lines each is a fitting reflection on our way of the cross:

Rejected and set apart

To hang between earth and sky,

Straight from his anguished heart

Comes this dreadful cry.

 

His spirit wearies now.

Forsaken and alone.

Bearing, I can’t tell how,

Our sins, not his own.

 

No voice to wish him well.

No milestone or mark

In all the bleak wastes of Hell,

All the freezing dark.

 

Now that he nears death’s gate

I must not turn away.

But I weep for him, desolate.

And try to pray.

A Defense of Love (Jn 10:31-42)

 

The need for Jesus to defend himself against a charge of blasphemy is hard to imagine.  Yet, Jesus does exactly this by reminding the crowds of the “many good works” he has done in his Father’s name.  He says to them with a sense of urgency, “Believe the works, so that you may realize and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father” (Jn 10:38).  The crowds interpret this to mean that Jesus is asserting equality with God, and so they levy the charge of blasphemy “because you, being a man, make yourself God” (10:33).

The unity between Father and Son acknowledged by Jesus is not an exclusive relationship.  Jesus intends this same relationship of unity for all those who believe in him and follow his way.  Towards the end of his mission, in fact, Jesus prays that all those who believe in him will be one with him and the Father, just as he and the Father are one (Jn 17:20-22).  Jesus invites us to become one with God by believing in him and imitating his good works.

Because the crowds do not understand or perceive the unity that Jesus speaks of, they do not see the good works of Jesus as coming from the God the Father.  Thus, they persist in their charge and want to stone Jesus for his claim that he and the Father are one (Jn 10:30).  Their charge of blasphemy in effect amounts to a denial of their own roots.  The Israelites were God’s chosen people, who had agreed to follow his laws and commandments. 

From their study of the prophets alone, the crowds who accused Jesus had to know that their covenant with God required them to do good by defending the rights of the poor and the oppressed, to seek justice, to take up the cause of the fatherless, and to plead the case of the widow (Is 1-17).  Their study would also have revealed “what is good and what the Lord requires—to do justice, love goodness, and walk humbly with God (Mic 6:8).  No wonder Jesus is bewildered by their inexcusable failure to recognize him as the promised Messiah by virtue of his own good works, let alone union with God as their true destiny.

In light of the many scripture passages that reveal who Jesus is and what he was about, the question remains: why was the crowd so blind to Jesus?  Familiarity breeds contempt, as the saying goes.  Perhaps the crowd did not accept Jesus because they knew his parents, where he was from, and what he did for a living.  Or, perhaps it was simply because Jesus did not fit the mold of who they expected to lead them in the way of holiness.  After all, Jesus himself noted that a prophet has no honor in his native place and in his own house (Mt 13:56-57).  Thus, being rejected for his way of life and good works was not something new to Jesus.

Despite the offense that many took at what he did or said, Jesus remained steadfast in his teaching that loving God and loving others is the ground and motivation for all good works (Mt 22:37-40).  Jesus expected his followers to let the light of their good works shine before others, so that others may see the good works that they do and give glory to God (Mt 5:16). 

Those of us today learn how to apply the principle of love in many ways, sometimes from an unexpected teacher and through unexpected sources.  In any case, our prayer this Lenten season is to let the love and fidelity of Christ be the guide posts of our own lives.  When we allow the values of Christ to determine the shape and character of our lives and what we do, we can face whatever challenges and criticism come our way.  This way of life then enables us to find “favor and esteem before God and human beings” (Prov 3:3-4).

A Clash in Values (Jn 8:21-30)

Jesus calls attention to a clash in values when he compares his values to those of the Pharisees.  Jesus says, “I belong to what is above; You belong to this world.”  He said this because the Pharisees determined the value of all matters by appearance alone.  They had little or no appreciation for anything with lasting value.  Thus, their focus was not on pleasing God, but on gaining material wealth, social status, and political power. 

For the Pharisees, enough was never enough.  Jesus thus warned them that their way of life driven by worldly values alone will result in spiritual death.  They will die in their sins and remain beyond the reach of Jesus.  By the time they realize their error, it will be too late.  They will look for Jesus, but not find him.

The fundamental error of the Pharisees was their failure to understand who Jesus is and the purpose of his mission.  Despite the revelation that Jesus himself made in that regard, the Pharisees did not believe or accept that Jesus was the one sent by God, and that following him was the way to life in the fullest sense (Jn 5:26).  They failed to perceive that the only motivation and guiding value for all that Jesus did was to carry out the will of the heavenly Father (Jn 10:10; 6:38-40).  No wonder the Pharisees did not bother to learn what was pleasing to God, or that doing so was even possible (Eph 5:8-10).

Nor is it any wonder that the Pharisees failed to adopt the fundamental value embraced by Jesus—love of God and love of neighbor.  This dual principle was not something new introduced by Jesus, but a basic commandment already contained in the Old Testament (Dt 6:5. Lev 19:18).  The Pharisees were scholars who specialized in interpreting and applying the Torah to daily life.  Thus, they would have been familiar with this dual principle as a guide for authentic worship of God.  Their failure compounded their predicament.

As a result, the Pharisees failed to see that love of God and love of neighbor are an essential aspect of justice.  They did not appreciate that the justice of God is not a matter of settling wrongs, but a matter of restoration for those who suffer the lack of a basic necessity.  This is the whole point of the sermon on the mount.  The beatitudes are a guide for virtuous living that will bring about such restoration—mercy, peace, and a longing to correct injustice.

The prophet Micah makes this same point when he claims that the Lord requires justice and a love of kindness for right living (Mic 6:8).  For Micah, right living is the only way “Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; justice and peace will kiss each other.  Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and justice will look down from the sky” (Ps 85:10-11; 89:14).

In practical terms, we honor the justice of God through service to his children and his creation.  This is the consistent theme of all that Jesus preached.  He informs his followers that he came to serve, not to be served.  He tells them that they must not lord it over others, that the greatest among them must be the least, the one who washes the feet of the others.

These are the values of Jesus rejected by the Pharisees.  Jesus is the obedient Son who is one with the father and does the father’s will.  He tells his followers that they must live in the same manner.  Those who love Jesus will keep his commandments, and he and the father will abide in them.  Their treasure for following Jesus in this way is not silver or gold, but an everlasting life of peace and joy in an intimate relationship with God.

 

His Friends Know Him (Jn 7:1-2, 10, 25-30)

 

If someone were to ask us whether we know someone, we could answer yes or no without hesitation.  That’s because we think we know what it means to know someone, that is, until someone asks us what it means to know anything, let alone someone in particular.  Then, we are hard pressed to come up with a general explanation that fits the bill.  We often think we know someone because we know things about that person.  We know their name; we can pick them out of a crowd; we know where they live and where they work.  Then, they do or say something that makes us realize we don’t really know them at all. 

This was the experience of those who were with Jesus as he taught in the temple.  They thought they knew Jesus because they recognized him and knew things about him.  They knew his name and where he was from.  They even knew that the Jewish authorities had rejected him as the expected Christ, and for that reason, wanted to kill him.  These were things that the people knew about Jesus until he did the unexpected.  Then, they realized they did not know him at all. 

Jesus exposed their lack of knowledge by pointing out what they didn’t know.  They didn’t know, for example, that he was sent by God and therefore his mission was of divine origin.  Even worse, they didn’t even know God the Father.  Thus, they did not know the truth about their own destiny.  Because they did not know Jesus, they wanted to arrest him. 

If the many who saw and heard Jesus in the temple did not really know him, how do we, who ordinarily have never seen or heard Jesus, know him?  Thomas and Phillip expressed a similar concern at the Last Supper.  After the meal, Jesus informed the disciples that he was leaving to prepare a place for them. Thomas wanted to know where he was going and how to get there.  We know the response of Jesus. 

Jesus says to Thomas that following him is the way to the Father.  In fact, following Jesus is the only way because no one comes to the Father except through Jesus (Jn14:6-7).  Phillip remains skeptical.  He presses Jesus further and wants to see the Father as proof positive.  Show us the Father and that will be enough, he says to Jesus.  Jesus makes it plain to Phillip that anyone who sees Jesus sees the Father (Jn 14:8-9). 

All of which shows us that we get to know Jesus in the same way we get to know anyone.  We encounter Jesus.  We meditate on the gospels.  We spend time with him, listen to him, try to understand him, what he is about, and what he expects from us.  In our encounter, we reveal ourselves to Jesus.  We tell him our hopes, our dreams, our fears, and we ask him questions, just like we would with our closest friend.  Peter makes exactly this point when he tells us to cast all of our cares on God because God cares for us (1 PT 5:7).

We have help from the Holy Spirit, who speaks to us in a special way through prayer, scripture, and sacrament (Jn 14:26).  We also come to know Jesus through those we encounter in our daily lives—friend and foe alike—but especially through his other beloved children who follow his way.  We come to know Jesus perhaps best during those private moments of personal encounter and conversation with him.  Knowing Jesus is to become his friend.  We can be sure that he then makes known to us, his friends, all that he has heard from his Father (Jn 15:15).