Christ is risen!
He is risen, indeed!
So Christians have proclaimed for centuries on Easter morning, as we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. (Photo: A painting of the resurrection of Christ by Matthias Grünewald, c. 1515. I changed the shape a bit to fit this space. This was originally an altarpiece for the Monastery of St. Anthony in Isenheim [once in Germany], now France. Today it is in the Unterlinden Museum in Colmar, France.)
For the past fourteen days, I have been reflecting on the Stations of the Cross in preparation for a deeper experience of the reality of Jesus’ death, and therefore a greater celebration of his resurrection.
Without the resurrection, we’d never have known about Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives, where he submitted to the will of his Heavenly Father.
Without the resurrection, Judas’ betrayal of Jesus would have been long forgotten.
Without the resurrection, the Sanhedrin who condemned Jesus would have been seen as largely correct in their estimation of him as a blasphemer who needed to be silenced.
Without the resurrection, Peter’s denial of Jesus might seem like a judicious way to preserve his own life.
Without the resurrection, we’d probably never have heard the name of Pontius Pilate, unless we happened to take a class in Jewish history.
Without the resurrection, the fact that Jesus was scourged and crowned with thorns would seem to be a sad but fitting end to one who pretended to usher in the kingdom of God.
Without the resurrection, Jesus would have been one more nameless individual who took up his cross on the way to dying a cruel death.
Without the resurrection, Simon of Cyrene would have disappeared into the dust of history.
Without the resurrection, the women who mourned for Jesus would have continued to mourn for a long, long time . . . not for only two days.
Without the resurrection, most of us would know very little about crucifixion, unless we had seen the movie Spartacus.
Without the resurrection, the promise of Jesus to the thief, that he would join Jesus in Paradise, would seem like a bad, sad joke.
Without the resurrection, the presence of Jesus’ mother at the cross would be painful in the extreme, without a hint of meaning or hope.
Without the resurrection, the cross would be largely forgotten, and it would not appear on millions of buildings or around millions of necks.
Without the resurrection, the tomb would have been the final resting place of Jesus, untill his body was exhumed so his bones could be placed in a ossuary.
Without the resurrection, there would be no Stations of the Cross.
Without the resurrection, there would be no Christian church.
Without the resurrection, there would be no assurance of salvation.
Without the resurrection, there would be no reason to hope.
Without the resurrection, there would be only death.
Because of the resurrection, we reverence the cross.
Because of the resurrection, the symbol of the cross is one of the best known in the world.
Because of the resurrection, what was once the sign of horrific death is now a sign of life and hope.
Because of the resurrection, the death of Jesus is remembered, cherished, even celebrated.
Because of the resurrection, the Stations of the Cross lead, not to death, but to live.
Because of the resurrection, we are reborn into a living hope.
Because of the resurrection, we know that we too will live anew.
Because of the resurrection, everything is different.
Because of the resurrection, new life has begun.
Christ is risen!
He is risen, indeed!
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