Easter Sunday Morning

Despite what we may think…  Easter isn’t just a noun.  Easter is something you should think of as a verb.  Just like our faith.  It is active.  It moves.  It’s something alive, and wondrous, and constantly in motion.

And if you want more proof, look no further than the gospel for this morning: Mary of Magdala in this story runs to tell the apostles what has happened, and two apostles runto the tomb to see for themselves.  Running, in fact, is mentioned no less than three times in this short passage.  Even in the earliest moments of our faith – literally, the dawn of Christianity – ours was a faith on the move.

We saw it last night, too, at the Easter Vigil.  More than a hundred candles lit this church – and the flames were not static.  The light glimmered and flickered.  It moved.  There were processions, to the baptismal font and to the altar, reminding us that we are a pilgrim people.

And then, of course, there was the quiet stirring of the human heart, as we heard again the story of our salvation, told again and again through readings that took us from creation to resurrection.  You could not help but be moved at how God moves us – to be humbled and in awe at how far we have traveled as children of God, and how God has moved through creation.

Easter is about going.  It’s about rising.  It’s running, pouring, anointing, sprinkling, affirming, and rejoicing.  It is about opening our throats in full-throated cry that has been too silent for too long: Alleluia!

Easter is hearing – it is hearing once more the astonishing news that awakened the hearts of the women at the tomb: “He is risen.”  Easter is proclaiming – it is proclaiming the Good News that our Savior lives.  Death has been conquered.  We have been redeemed.  Easter assures us that Christianity is a faith on its feet, running to spread the Word.

It’s Mary, racing to tell the others.  It’s Peter, a man who once denied Jesus, running toward a destiny that will transform his life – and the lives of countless others through history.  It’s the apostles fanning out around the world, by ship or on foot, to face prison or torture or death.

It’s sisters arriving on ships from places like Italy and France and Ireland to teach an impossible country called America.  It’s priests living in huts and saying Mass in tents and baptizing with muddy water from shallow rivers in Africa.

It’s Pope Francis, on his knees last Thursday, washing the feet of prisoners in a mean jail in the outskirts of Rome, and doing it for one simple reason: because we are not meant to keep what we have to ourselves.

It is hundreds of faithful women and men gathered in a former hotel to celebrate Mass and the start of a new parish in downtown Seattle.  By God’s grace, our church continues to grow.

Christ lives.  And we live in him.  It is just that simple.  This day, we carry that with us into the world, continuing what Mary of Magdala began all those centuries ago.  We have to tell others.  It’s not the sort of news that you spread by walking.  You have to run.

And today, Easter, the celebration of Christ’s resurrection, is the greatest reason of all to keep the momentum going.  Alleluia?  Alleluia!

Paul A. Magnano

Pastor