Easter Sunday

“No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne; no gall, no glory; no cross, no crown.”

- William Penn

Every Sunday of the year is the Sabbath, the Lord's Day, the Day of the Resurrection. And Mother Church considers each Sunday as a “Little Easter” as the Church celebrates the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Today we celebrate the “Big Easter." Easter is the Feast of feasts, the Solemnity of solemnities, the Church's holiest day of the year. Today, in a tradition of 20 centuries, the Church boldly announces to the world, “Christ Lives!” Easter is more than an annual feast in the Church's liturgical cycle; resurrection is a way of life. There are two sides of the Cross — in death lies the promise of life, and in life is the remembrance of death. A happy and peace-filled Easter to all of you!

St. Augustine says that we who are Christians should be an “Alleluia” from head to toe. Alleluia is a Hebrew cry of jubilation which means, “Praise the Lord!” The Lord lives with us and in us and is the very center of our lives. His story has become our story, our hope of glory. The word, “Alleluia” is ecstatic love, joy praise, adoration, gratitude — all rolled into one. “Alleluia” is the song of the Resurrection.!

Atop the city of Pittsburgh on Mt. Washington at St. Mary of the Mount Church is a powerful and breathtaking depiction of the Crucifixion, seen as one peers into the 24-hour chapel at the entrance. However, once inside the church, and upon walking out, one sees in the stained glass windows above the triumphant Jesus risen in glory. These images at the back and front of the church bring together both death and life. It is in the Lord's Death and Resurrection that our redemption lie. In Jesus' farewell address at the Last Supper he said to His disciples, “There is no greater love than to lay down your life for your friend” (John 15:13). Like Christ, we are called to lay down our lives to serve to others with generous and committed love.

Easter celebrates when Jesus “passed over” from death to new life. On the day of our Baptism we were incorporated into the Paschal Mystery of the dying and rising of Christ. Throughout our lives as Christians, we must die completely to self, to sin, to the flesh, to the world, and to earth, in order to rise through the grace of the Holy Spirit with the Risen Christ to freedom, peace, joy, love, hope, and new life. One of the highest points in my life as a priest is Sunday. (Some people think it's the only day priests work!) As I arise early in the morning to open the church, I always wonder who will enter into God's house this day — what challenges they face, what crosses they carry, what burdens they bear, what problems they wrestle with, what blessings they have received, what prayers they seek answered, and what graces will be shared in celebrating together. It is indeed a humble blessing to serve as a priest. It is a joy to share His story of love.

After 23 years of service to the Church in the Diocese of Pittsburgh this May, I've come to realize that priesthood is not just a position, title or function to fulfill, but instead is a unique calling from God to serve His people by accompanying and being with them as a companion on the journey.

One of my heroes from my first seminary days at St. Paul's in Crafton was Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen (1895-1979). In his autobiography, Treasure in Clay, he spoke of the “daily hour of power." That hour is a Holy Hour made in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, which he observed each day. The closer we experience the intimate love of Jesus in prayer, the more we desire to share that love with others. Archbishop Sheen said, “Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for Divine Love?”

My patron, St. Richard of Chichester (1197-1253), wrote:

Thank you, Lord Jesus Christ,
for all the benefits and blessings
which You have given me,
for all the pains and insults
which You have borne for me.
Merciful Friend, Brother and Redeemer,
may I know You more clearly,
love You more dearly,
and follow You more nearly,
day by day.

At each Mass and at every prayer, we seal ourselves with the mark of faith, the Sign of the Cross. Carrying the cross is the daily occupation of the Christian. There are no shortcuts to discipleship. There are no shortcuts to Easter. There are no shortcuts to the Kingdom of God. Embracing, accepting and carrying the cross is necessary for following Jesus. One of the most powerful and dramatic times of the liturgical year is when we venerate the cross on Good Friday. The Bishop takes his ring off, and Christians bow, kiss, genuflect, touch, bless, pause in silence, or offer some gesture of love, in thanksgiving for the ultimate sacrifice Jesus made for us sinners. The Cross became the trophy of our salvation. Jesus' Cross is the bridge by which all humankind can traverse from sin to forgiveness, slavery to freedom, darkness to light, and death to life. It is through the redeeming love of our Savior Jesus Christ, who bore the weight of our sins, that we receive salvation. Jesus died and rose again, thus becoming our pledge of hope, of peace, and of our victory.

Bishop Bob Morneau, a long-time mentor and companion of mine, offers an Easter poem in Poems Thrown Into the Wind:

Is my soul an empty tomb,
cold, silent, dark,
devoid of life, the risen Lord?
Or is my soul a home,
warm, welcoming, filled with light,
a site of Love’s dwelling bright?
These Easter questions haunt me,
taunt me into major remodeling.
My architect -- the Holy Spirit --
whose cost is grace,
who transforms me into a Holy place.