Easter Tuesday
Acts 2:36-41 | Psalm 32(33):4-5,18-20,22 | John 20:11-18

They said, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ ‘They have taken my Lord away’ she replied ‘and I don’t know where they have put him.’ As she said this she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, though she did not recognise him. (John 20:13-14)

I’m reminded of some startling photos my sister posted on Facebook, taken of our parish’s Divine Mercy stained glass that was veiled during the Easter Tridiuum.

I also recalled a prank I played on my wife after Easter Sunday lunch. We were walking to Thomson Plaza with a friend, but because I had to use the facilities, I walked on ahead of them.

When I’d finished in the toilet, I discovered that they were now ahead of me. Thinking to have a little fun, I snuck up behind them and intoned:

Who are you looking for?
JESUS THE NAZARENE!

Odd that Jesus asks Mary of Magdala that same question in today’s Gospel.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

We weren’t there when Christ rose from the dead, but we have seen through the eyes of those who beheld that Easter mystery, by their accounts of what transpired during those dark days that ended gloriously.

We weren’t there when He spoke to His disciples, but we have heard His words through sacred scripture.

Our eyes have seen; our ears have heard. What now?

Mary of Magdala exclaimed: “They have taken my Lord away, and I don’t know where they have put him.”

Where have we taken Jesus, and where have we put Him?

Front and center, surfacing in our daily words and deeds?

Or hidden away in a musty closet somewhere, to be dusted off a few times a year for “private consultation” at church?

Where can we find Jesus in our lives? How often do we see but not recognize Him?

In the forlorn expression of the elderly lady I passed over at church on Easter Sunday?

In the migrant workers and local citizens who clean our surroundings each day?

In the mother and Down syndrome child on the train, whom everyone seemed to avoid for irrational reasons?

As the old hymn exhorts us:

Let our light shine for all to see
Serving both friend and enemy
Since He died for us, let us live for Him
And be His disciples eternally

Amen.

Easter Monday
Acts 2:14,22-33 | Psalm 15(16):1-2,5,7-11 | Matthew 28:8-15

And there, coming to meet them, was Jesus. ‘Greetings’ he said. (Matthew 28:9)

Christ is risen! Hallelujah!

So why am I so reluctant to share that joy with others of my own faith?

I just came to that painful realization while remembering the events of the last 24 hours, particularly how few people I greeted with “Blessed Easter!” I must’ve run into at least two hundred people across 3 separate celebrations, yet the only folks I offered felicitations to were those whom I knew personally.

Perhaps some of those “children of the same God” were somewhat off-putting, wearing what Fr. Cornelius hilariously described as “perpetual Good Friday faces”, and radiating a leave-me-alone-I’m-just-fulfilling-an-obligation aura. (One Hospitality Minister described his responsibility as “quite stressful”, and I can understand why.)

But there I was, exiting the main church after 7am mass, greeting a Communion Minister I knew, then walking right past an elderly lady, sitting forlornly in a wheelchair outside the sacristy, to greet another friend. A smile, a clasping of hands, and two simple words “Blessed Easter!” would’ve taken all of five seconds out of my life.

The memory of her lined face, looking around for someone to talk to, will haunt me for a while yet.

That was surely not a passover Jesus would’ve countenanced, and while I may not possess the all-encompassing love of Christ, and while personal interaction actually drains me, those would just be pathetic excuses.

I can do better. I must.

In the meantime…

Filled with awe and great joy the women came quickly away from the tomb and ran to tell the disciples. (Matthew 28:8)

“Greetings, dear brothers and sisters. Christ is risen! Hallelujah!”

Amen.

Easter Sunday

It was very early on the first day of the week and still dark, when Adrian of Ho came to the church to greet the rising Son, just as Mary of Magdala went to Jesus’ tomb in the early hours, to find Him gone.

There’s something magical about the pre-dawn hours, when all creation slowly wakes from their slumber. One by one, the creatures of this world arise from their sleep and go about their daily business.

Some more awake than others…

But today is not a normal day. Today, we come in hope and joy, exultant that our Lord and Saviour has broken the bonds of death, winning for us the prize of eternal life.

In the words of M.D. Ridge:

Three days our world was broken and in an instant healed,
God’s covenant of mercy in mystery revealed.
Two thousand years are one day in God’s eternal sight,
and yesterday’s sorrows are this day’s delight.
Though still Christ’s body suffers, pierced daily by the sword,
yet death has no dominion: the risen Christ is Lord!
Alleluia!

Holy Saturday

All the earth now falls silent,
All God’s sons and daughters too,
For the Christ has descended to death
That God’s Covenant with us will come true.

Such boundless love for creation,
That His Blood and Water be shed,
For ourselves and for our sins,
From damnation be won instead.

We await His rising from the dead
In breathless anticipation,
We stand vigil with faith and hope
For the coming of our salvation.

With Abraham, Moses, and David,
Our forefathers in faith and grace,
Sing praise to the Father and Son
And Spirit, thrice blest, sing praise!

Amen.