This is the Day
“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Ps 118[117],24)... We Christians, though born in our very infancy into the kingdom of God... and though knowing and believing this truth entirely, yet have very great difficulty and pass many years in learning our privilege. Not any one, of course, fully understands it... And here we are, even on this great Day, this Day of days, on which Christ arose from the dead,—here are we... as infants... without eyes to see or heart to comprehend who we are...
This is Easter Day. Let us say this again and again to ourselves with fear and great joy. As children say to themselves, "This is the spring," or "This is the sea," trying to grasp the thought..., let us say, “This is the Day of Days, the Royal Day, the Lord's Day (Rv 1,10 Gk.). This is the Day on which Christ arose from the dead; the Day which brought us salvation”. It is a Day which has made us greater than we know. It is our Day of rest, the true Sabbath. Christ entered into His rest (Heb 4), and so do we. It brings us, in figure, through the grave and gate of death to our season of refreshment in Abraham's bosom (Acts 3,20; Lk 16,22).
We have had enough of weariness, and dreariness, and listlessness, and sorrow, and remorse. We have had enough of this troublesome world. We have had enough of its noise and din. Noise is its best music. But now there is stillness; and it is a stillness that speaks... such is our blessedness now. Calm and serene days have begun; and Christ is heard in them, and His “still small voice” (1Kgs 19,12), because the world speaks not. Let us only put off the world, and we put on Christ (Eph 4,22; Rm 13,14)... May that unclothing be unto us a clothing upon of things invisible and imperishable! May we grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior, season after season, year after year, till He takes us to Himself... into the kingdom of His Father and our Father, His God and our God (Jn 20,17).
After 40 days of preparation — penance, fasting and the countless confessions, many good folks who have made their way back to the church after a long interlude — we celebrate the risen Christ. The sanctuary, no longer barren, is filled with the festive color of flowers in full bloom. He is risen. But remaining always prominent in the sanctuary is that cross — uncovered, a permanent fixture. There is an eternal freshness in the wounds of Christ.
Although He is risen, the way of the cross remains the only path to the Resurrection. We are not ashamed of the cross. The cross and the Resurrection are inseparable.
Too often we think the Passion of Christ is finished. Several years ago, a major Christian denomination removed the cross from an Easter evangelization campaign. A clergyman bizarrely explained that the cross had “too much cultural baggage” associated with it. So the cross was replaced with an exclamation. A simple word, “Surprise” followed by a joyous exclamation point. But without the cross there can be no Resurrection.
In the Book of Revelation we read the words of St. John: “Then I saw standing in the very middle of the throne, a lamb with the marks of slaughter on it.” In heaven everyone sees the marks of slaughter on the glorified body of Christ. St. John uses another word for "lamb" in Revelation. The word he uses means “pet lamb”; one belonging to the family. Christ came among us as our own. And we are not ashamed of His wounds, wounds we have inflicted upon Him. Because He is risen.
What consolation can we give to someone dying of cancer? To a bereaving widow? To the victim of war? What is the answer to the problem of evil? Of man's inhumanity to man? Of suffering? There is no answer we can grasp by reason. The Book of Job comes close. Satan is sometimes the cause of the ills of so many good people. But God protects Job where it really counts: You may touch the body of Job, He instructs Satan, but not his soul. And so it happens that Job loses his crops, his children and suffers bodily afflictions.
Satan has several unwitting accomplices in his temptations. Satan wants Job's body and soul. Mrs. Job demands that her husband “Curse God and die.” The friends of Job give every possible explanation, except the right one. And Job cries out to God, “Why was I born? Why did I ever see the light of day?” God does not answer the questions; He responds with His own questions: “Where were you at the foundation of the world? Where were you when I created the heavens and the earth?” And Job understood that the questions of God were more satisfying than the answers of men; the human mind cannot apprehend the mystery of suffering.
There would be no answer to the problem of evil until the good Lord Himself would come down from heaven. The Lord Himself would answer our questions: Lord, do you know anything about pain? About the accident wards of hospitals? About prisons? The gulag? The concentration camps? We are compelled to ask, Lord, just what do you know about human suffering?
The risen Lord who still carries the wounds of the cross on His glorified body is sinless. Yet He took on the responsibility of all the sins of man. In Gethsemane He was fully conscious of the horror of those sins. He died a thousand times over in that Garden, anticipating the suffering of the crucifixion. Still He died in unspeakable agony. Jesus on the cross, the innocent lamb, looked into the past. The sin of Adam was there. So was the sin of Cain; the abominations of Sodom and Gomorrah; the persistent sins of infidelity on the part of the chosen people. And they were all dragged to the cross in the consciousness of Christ.
But Christ also looked into the future. He saw the sins of the 20th century: the concentration camps, the wars, the slaughter of unborn babies. He saw our sins, He saw the crimes we commit in our hearts. And for these sins He also suffered. But these are the sins He also has overcome through His mighty resurrection. We are not ashamed of the cross: We do not — even in this Easter season — cover up His wounds.
His wounds can be found throughout the world — wherever man suffers; wherever man dies. But we are not ashamed of the cross; we will never be ashamed of the cross. They can kill the body, but if we remain always in the risen Christ, they cannot kill the soul. For He is risen. He has overcome sin. He has overcome suffering. He has overcome death. Now and for all time.
Fr. Pokorsky is pastor of St. Michael Church in Annandale.