HE'S ALIVE!
Mary of Magdala came to
the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark. Later, Simon
Peter and John came to the tomb. None of them understood yet that he
had to rise from the dead.
John 20:1-9
Speaking of visiting cemeteries, in a couple of my weekly
columns in The Record, I have written about my
fascination with cemeteries, especially the two in my own country parish of
Saint Theresa where I will be buried, the two in Calvary, Kentucky, down around
Lebanon, where I used to serve, the Sisters’ cemeteries at the Motherhouses at
Nazareth, Springfield and Loretto, Kentucky, as well as the abbey cemetery at
St. Meinrad in Indiana.
Down home, I love to walk through the cemetery and remember
my parents, grandparents, neighbors, friends and fellow parishioners dating
back to 1804. It is a bit like walking through heaven and visiting with people
I have known and loved, reminding me that I come from those English Catholics
who escaped religious persecution in England, came to Maryland and on to Kentucky in the late 1700s - people who held onto their
Catholic faith through thick and thin. It is especially sobering to look down at he very spot where I will be buried among them.
In Calvary, right outside Lebanon where I was pastor before
coming here, the parish was founded in 1796. The oldest of the their two
cemeteries holds five soldiers from the American Revolution and the last person
buried there was killed by Indians.
At. St. Meinrad, I know one third of the hundred plus monks buried there.
These are the people who had the most positive effect on my development as a person and as a priest. I never think of the bones buried there, but the brains. Many of them
were European trained and held doctorates from prestigious universities. One of
my monk teachers worked for NASA during the summer and invented the plastic for the
nose cones of the early unmanned fights. Another went on to become a respected theologian
at Yale University. Another was a language expert who once was missing, only to
be found in a caravan in Saudi Arabia learning Arabic.
I am fascinated, not with death, but with those who have
lived the Catholic faith and served the church, as I have done these last 73 years.
It does something for me – several things for me, in fact. (1) It reminds me
that life is short so I need to live well while I can. By looking death in the
face, it reminds me that death is a fact of life, not only for those who have
gone before me, but also for me. I feel that it is good to remind myself to
live with the end in mind. (2) It reminds me, as well, that I am part of
a large family of faith, that stretches back for two thousand years around the
world and over two hundred years here in Kentucky. (3) I am reminded of a line
from the creed where we say that “we look forward to the resurrection of the
dead and the life of the world to come.” We believe that life does not end with
the grave, but rather that we continue to live - that we will rise again
someday, just like Christ rose from his grave that first Easter. (4) Believing
in the “communion of saints,' it reminds me to pray for those who have died and
it reminds me that they are praying for me as well.
The great Lutheran theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, once
said, “The pastor should visit the cemetery as often as he is able. This is
wholesome for him personally, for his preaching, for his spiritual care and
also for his theology.” Bonhoeffer was right. When I walk through these
cemeteries and view the names on the gravestones, I experience a peaceful,
reassuring calmness.
I recommend this practice to any of you, especially when you
are depressed or down about something. Looking death in the eye makes us
realize how short and precious life is, makes us put our problems in
perspective and restores our peace of mind so that we can get back to living
while we can. It reminds us that we are not alone, that we belong to a
huge family of faith and that we will be remembered after we die, even by
people who have never met us.
There are several things that stand out when we read about
the disciples’ visit to the cemetery shortly after the tragic death of
Jesus. First of all, it was a woman who first brought the news about the
empty tomb to the men.
Obviously, no one among them was expecting a resurrection. Even those who knew
Jesus, saw him die and viewed his empty tomb, were slow in coming to faith.
Mary Magdalen did not go to the cemetery to get a front row seat for the
resurrection. She went to finish burying Jesus according to Jewish custom.
Jesus died on Friday and had been buried hastily because of the approaching Sabbath.
Seeing that the tomb was empty, she concluded that the body had been snatched.
The youngest apostle, John, looked in but was scared to go into the tomb. The
impulsive Peter, wanting to get to the bottom of things, was the first to enter
the tomb. John was the first to believe, and only gradually, over several days,
did the others come to believe.
If the resurrection of the body was hard to believe, even for
those who were there, what about us? Are we not, also, slow in coming to faith?
As Jesus said about us to the doubting apostle, Thomas, in his demand for
proof, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those
who have not seen and have believed.”
With the Church, we believe in “the resurrection of the body.”
Saint Thomas Aquinas, the great theologian, said that without the body, the
human soul is incomplete. We need our bodies to be who we are, to have memories
and relationships, to express our unique personalities. Our risen bodies will
not be our limited bodies, but fully realized bodies, glorified bodies. Our
risen bodies might exhibit some properties of our physical body, but without
its limits. Like the risen Lord, who seemed to pass through doors but was also
able to be recognized, our bodies will be our bodies, only in a glorified state. Frankly, I am hoping to trade this one in for an upgraded version!!!!
If you are finding it hard to comprehend what I am trying to
say, don't worry about it. It really cannot be described in normal language. Frankly, I don’t spend a whole lot of time trying to logically figure all
this out. I am simply comforted by the words of Saint Paul, “Eye has not seen,
nor ears heard, nor has it even dawned on human beings, the great things God
has in store for those who love him.” I can live with that!
So, on this Easter morning, let us not just remember the
resurrection of Jesus as a historical event, but let us remember it with our
own end in mind. Let us look forward to our own resurrections - whatever that
reality may look like. For me, in final analysis, the Easter story should
be read as one would read a love letter or a book of poetry, not like one would
read a science book or cookbook.
When it comes right down to it, all I really believe is that my
life will continue after this life – and that life is going to be wonderful.
Therefore, in the meantime, I am trying to live my life to the fullest
while I am here and I am trying to remain connected to Christ as I “wait in
joyful hope” for that great and glorious time, which will be beyond my wildest
imagining.
Blessed are those of us who have no proof, who have not seen
with our own eyes, yet still believe!
No comments:
Post a Comment