Happy Easter! Christ is risen; he is risen, indeed!
Weeks after the candy has been eaten and the baskets emptied, our church continues its liturgical celebration. In the Catholic tradition, Easter is not a day but a season. Although Lent gets more attention, the season of Easter lasts longer than the fasts of the 40 days of Lent we observe each year.
But are we, as individual Catholics, willing to enter into Easter for more than a day, through the eight days of the octave, and then for a full 50 days? Are we building upon the growth we’ve experienced in Lent, both humanly and spiritually, throughout the Easter season? If you’re like most of us, probably not.
It’s counterintuitive, but has been confirmed innumerable times in my experience: Many people find it easier to fast than to feast. Why is that? One reason is neurological.
As human beings, created in God’s image and likeness, we need to remember that it’s important first to consider our human foundations, how God created us to be as men and women. Grace builds on nature, and our humanity is the foundation of our formation in Christ.
When we make progress toward a goal, we are rewarded with dopamine. Dopamine is a naturally occurring hormone and a neurotransmitter that is released in our brains when we accomplish milestones toward a goal. Dopamine feels pleasurable and is commonly known as “the feel good” drug. It literally feels good to make progress.
We do not get the same release after we achieve a goal or arrive at a destination. And this often leads to feelings of sadness and letdown. Is that all there is? What was all the effort even for? What do I do now? These questions are completely normal, and in part explainable when we consider our human foundations.
The liturgical calendar of the church is not a destination, but a participation in eternity. Through the recurring cycles of the year, we enter into the mysteries that define our faith, allowing our understanding and love for them to deepen as we change through time. We can overcome the struggle to observe the full Easter season if we enter into it with intentionality. During this time of uncertainty in our world and transition in the church, the importance of entering this sacred season well takes on even greater emphasis.
We need to look no further than the liturgy for inspiration to give our expression of the Easter expression a concrete direction. How do we do that?
Take to heart the renewal of our baptismal promises. Easter can be a time when we grow in the awareness of who we are, as we renew our baptismal promises each week at holy Mass. If we live out these promises of renouncing Satan and turning toward the Lord, we should see this freedom expressed in our lives through the rejuvenating leisure of the Easter season. This can become a time to implement the fruit we experienced during Lent, building lasting habits. We can learn again to depend upon God for everything as though he really is who we believe him to be: Our Father.
Every Sunday at holy Mass, we renew our baptismal promises by rejecting Satan and his empty promises, professing our belief in God who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and committing to live by way of the creed. In addition to our participation in the sacred liturgy, we can also pray the Nicene Creed daily and allow the faith we profess to shape us from within.
It is through the waters of baptism that we died with Christ, and through baptism we have been raised with him. We have truly been re-created, and given a new identity: We have become sons and daughters of the Father. God is our Father; this is the revelation of Christ. St. John Henry Newman once preached, “Being then the sons of God and one with Him, our souls mount up and cry to Him continually.” We are children in the hands of “everlasting arms.” Maturing in the faith, taking on the mind and heart of Christ, is more fully realizing what has happened to us, and living faithfully and fruitfully from this mystery.
Remember Christ’s wounds glorified. In the Gospels throughout the Easter season, we are presented with the appearances of Jesus after his resurrection, before his ascension into heaven. He appeared to the 12, overcoming their locked doors, and pledged his peace in response to their fear.
Thomas declares that he will not believe until he puts his hands into Christ’s wounds. The account is dazzling, but what struck me recently is that Christ in glory should have wounds at all. Indeed he does, this is the same Jesus who presents his sacred wounds touched with glory, definitively answering Thomas’s doubt. Every one of us has wounds. How are we to view them?
Bishop Erik Varden, the Bishop of Trondheim in Norway,teaches that our relationship with wounds is bifurcated today: We either hide them away as though they do not exist, or we identify with them so completely that they define us.
Christ shows us something altogether different in the upper room. We don’t have to hide our wounds. We can face them. This Easter season, what if we placed our wounded hands in his?
With God’s grace and the natural support we need from others, our wounds can become sources of transformation for others. Our wounds cry out for healing, and the resurrection of Christ teaches us that they are not in vain. In fact, they open up new space to receive the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, who can make them fruitful.
Call upon the Holy Spirit to dwell in us anew. The Easter season culminates in Pentecost, when the apostles receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. As we make our way through what remains of the Easter season, we should have this culminating event before us as well. During the 40 days before his ascension, Jesus ate and drank with his disciples and prepared them to receive the Holy Spirit. Easter is a time of preparation as well, as we feast with Christ and prepare to embrace anew the mission he has entrusted uniquely to us.
It is remarkable that God should choose to dwell among us, not figuratively but in reality.. Indeed, the Christian who perseveres in the sacramental life of the church is taken up body and soul by God’s indwelling as a human being. We are temples. God’s presence in us is holiness.
My children remind me of this; they deepen my understanding and experience of my faith. My youngest son, William, just turned 1. William is not taking steps just yet; he’s crawling around all over the place. He scoops up any crumb he can find on the floor, like a vacuum, and shoves it into his mouth. My wife exclaimed playfully the other day: “Really, sweetie, you are above this!” This struck me, because I act like William all the time. How many times do I turn back to things below God dwelling in me? All too often.
The Easter season offers a chance for continued reflection: Is there something that we need to give up not merely for the 40 days of Lent but forever? Is there a practice we need to take up to live more faithfully in the freedom of the children of God?
Our experience of Easter can be different if we enter into this time with intentionality. Our Easter spirit need not fade into oblivion; the season can become a time when we seek to embrace our identity as sons and daughters of God, to confront the wounds we carry with Christ, and to call upon the Holy Sprit to dwell within us anew.
