Thursday in the Octave of Easter

From Agitation to Mission

Readings: Acts 3:11-26; Psalm 8:2ab and 5, 6-7, 8-9; Luke 24:35-48

Consciously or not, I think I often expect myself to greet Easter as I would a much-anticipated holiday destination. You know, sort of like how you would be quite spontaneously happy when, after a long bus ride, you finally set eyes on the sandy beaches of Batu Ferringhi in Penang or Club Med Cherating in Kuantan. Yipee! We have arrived! After all, haven’t we spent more than forty days journeying through the discipline of Lent? And now, is it too much to expect that we should be happy to have finally arrived at Easter? Isn’t this a natural and spontaneous reaction?

And yet, if there’s one surprising thing in the scriptures, it’s how people greet the resurrection and its aftermath not so much with relief and joy but with surprise and even agitation. Notice the reaction of the people to the healing of the cripple in the first reading. Why are you so surprised?, asks Peter. Of course, Peter is only using the question as an introduction to the main point of his speech. Peter is saying that the people should not be surprised, because the man’s healing is a only the natural result of faith in the name of Jesus, whose suffering and death had already been foretold in the same scriptures that are read in the synagogues each week. All the prophets that have ever spoken… have predicted these days.

Still, aren’t Peter and the disciples themselves surprised when they first encounter the Crucified and Risen Christ? Not only are they surprised, but the gospel tells us that they are actually in a state of alarm and fright. It is only after hearing Jesus’ greeting of peace and his reassurance that he is not a ghost, that their shock and surprise is gradually transformed into joy. Even then they still could not believe it. They need to watch Jesus eat with them and remind them of the very thing that Peter reminds the people of in the first reading: how it is written that the Christ would suffer and on the third day rise from the dead.

And what about me? What about us? If this is how the disciples react to the risen Christ, is it reasonable or even desirable for us to expect to bypass the surprise of Easter and simply to enter spontaneously into its joy? Of course, we may indeed be privileged to have such an experience. But then, isn’t it also possible that we’re just too used to celebrating Easter every year? Could our lack of surprise be due to fact that we haven’t quite grasped the awesome implications of Christ’s rising for our own lives today? By consciously or unconsciously shielding ourselves from the shock of Easter, could we also be depriving ourselves of the true joy that is ours to experience? After all, is it not likely that, like the first disciples, we too need to allow ourselves to experience the shock of the resurrection and then to allow Jesus to reassure us by opening the scriptures to us and breaking the bread for us? Isn’t this why we are here this evening?

But how will we know whether our joy is authentic or not? Jesus presents us with an indication at the end of today’s gospel. An essential part of the Easter experience is when, as it is written in the scriptures, in Christ’s name, repentance for the forgiveness of sins is preached to all nations. This is what we see happening in the Acts of the Apostles. And this is what we expect to happen to and through us as well. We expect to be moved from agitation and fright to commitment and mission. For it is only through the fruit that it bears in our own lives that we will know whether we’ve truly reached our Easter destination.

Have we?

Wednesday in the Octave of Easter
The Reason for Our Name

Readings: Acts 3:1-10; Psalm 105:1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8-9; Luke 24:13-35

Today’s readings remind me of a scene from a movie that’s still playing in town. Entitled The Namesake, it’s based on a best-selling novel of the same name, written by the Pulitzer prize winning Bengali writer Jhumpa Lahiri. In the story, a man names his son Gogol, after an obscure Russian writer. But, as the boy grows up, he becomes embarrassed and ashamed of his name, not just because people make fun of it, but also because he learns that his namesake was a very strange and eccentric person whose talent was only recognized after his death. So he decides to change his name. Then one day, his father tells him why he was given that strange name. Many years ago, before Gogol was born, the father had been the sole survivor in a tragic train accident. And, while on that train, the father had been reading a book written by his namesake. In fact, he was still clutching pages from the book when he was found by his rescuers. After hearing his father’s explanation, Gogol is even more confused, and asks him: Is this what I remind you of? A painfully tragic train wreck? To which his father smiles and replies: No, you remind me that everything after that accident has been a gift.

Isn’t Jesus doing something similar in the well-known gospel story that we just heard today. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus are not just leaving Jerusalem. They’re really running away from all that has happened there. They’re running away from the pain and disappointment, the shame and the embarrassment of the Cross of Christ. We have only to replace the word Gogol with the word Cross, to see that, like the boy in the movie, the two disciples are really running away from their past. They are trying to change their name. But the risen Christ helps them to understand the significance of all that has happened. He shows them that it was ordained that the Christ should suffer and so enter into his glory. He helps to transform for them a painfully tragic memory, into a reason to rejoice. He helps them to see how, even through the shame and the disappointment, God has been blessing them with the gift of salvation. And like the crippled man in the first reading, these two disciples are healed. They are freed from their depression. They are able once again to rejoice in the Lord. They are given the ability to run back to Jerusalem and to praise God for all that has happened to them.

Isn’t this the wondrous grace that is being offered to us as well? Not just at Easter, but every time we come together to celebrate the Eucharist, every time we gather to Break the Word and the Bread, we are being offered the grace to see new meaning in the train wrecks of our lives. We are being empowered by the Lord to return to our own personal Jerusalems and to rejoice in the Lord calling us by name. For truly, after the Lord’s dying and rising, everything is gift.

How is the Crucified and Risen Lord convincing us of this today?

Tuesday in the Octave of Easter

Talk that Cuts to the Heart

Readings: Acts 2:36-41; Psalm 33:4-5, 18-19, 20 and 22; John 20:11-18

We probably all know what coffee-shop talk is. It’s the kind of conversation that one has, for example, with one’s kakis on a lazy Sunday afternoon, sitting at the neighbourhood kopitiam, chatting over a cuppa. Sometimes one complains about things that may affect us directly, such as the impending rise in the Civil Service pay-packet or the higher GST or the latest COE prices. Other times one just exchanges comments about things in general, like the war in Iraq, or the murder of the Pakistani cricket coach. These days, of course, the venue for these conversations is changing. Even as old neighbourhood kopitiams are vanishing, coffee-shop talk continues, at hawker centres in the Heartland, at Starbucks outlets in hipper parts of town, and especially on blogs and online forums over the internet. And it’s important that such conversations continue, because they are such a good way to relax, to let off steam, and especially to exchange ideas as to how the world can be made a better place.

Yet, isn’t it true that much of such talk is carried out in ways that are often less than conducive for uncovering the Truth? Isn’t it true that sometimes, if not often, we carry out such conversations simply to reaffirm our own prejudices and biases, or worse, to try to force others to think the same way we do? And what happens when we fail? Instead of politely agreeing to disagree, some of us resort to personal attacks on the conversation partner. Isn’t this why there is now a call in some quarters for regulating such conversations on the internet?

What a contrast to the conversations that we overhear in our readings today. You will remember that yesterday, the readings focused on the sense of sight, on the importance of keeping the Crucified and Risen Lord ever in our sight. Today, the focus is on the sense of hearing. What is the kind of hearing that leads people deeper into the life of the Risen One? It’s the kind that Mary Magdalene and Peter’s listeners are engaged in today. Mary is crying at the tomb because Jesus’ body is missing. But she hears the Risen Christ calling her by name. And everything changes. She rushes off to do all that he tells her. Something similar happens in the first reading. In the power of the Spirit, Peter tells a large crowd of people quite plainly that God has made this Jesus whom you crucified both Lord and Christ. And instead of denying or arguing or hurling insults, the people are cut to the heart. They realize the truth of their own involvement in what has happened. Listening to Peter, they realize that they have just been called by name. And they are anxious to know what they must do.

Isn’t this openness to Truth, this responsiveness to being called by name, this willingness to being cut to the heart, just the kind of thing that we need for our conversations, wherever and however they are carried out, to lead us more deeply into the resurrected life? Isn't this something for which we need to pray?

Today, how is the Crucified and Risen One cutting us to the heart? How is He calling us by our name?

Monday in the Octave of Easter
Keeping Him In Our Sights

Readings: Acts 2:14, 22-33; Psalm 16:1-2a and 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11; Matthew 28:8-15

Tell us, Mary: say what thou didst see upon the way…

The rigours of Lent are finally over. The intensity of the Easter Triduum has all but dissipated. And there’s a part of me that heaves a sigh of relief. But we bid farewell to the six Sundays of Lent only to plunge into seven Sundays of Easter. Even though the Triduum is over, we remain in the Octave of Easter. We continue to celebrate Easter Day, the first day of the week for us Christians. And truly, I need all this time to allow myself to enter more deeply into the reality of the resurrected life of the Crucified and Risen Christ.

The texts for Mass help us to do this today by reminding us about the importance of sight. In the first reading, Peter quotes King David as saying: I saw the Lord before me always, for with him at my right hand nothing can shake me. And in the psalm, we made these words our own: I keep the Lord ever in my sight: since with him at my right hand, I shall stand firm. How then are we – who want so much to experience the joy of Easter more deeply – to keep the Lord in our sights?

We begin, as we did in the sequence, by questioning Mary Magdalene, asking her to tell us what she saw. What did she and her female companions see? At the tomb, they saw the same things that the guards saw. There was an earthquake and an angel rolled the stone away from the tomb’s entrance. And guards and women alike were stricken with fear. But here the similarity ends. The guards run off to report to the authorities who are just as fearful, and all become party to a cooked-up story. Their fear blinds them, and they see no longer.

Things are different for the women. Even in their fear, their faith in and love for the Lord moves them not only to remain at the tomb, but also to converse with the fearsome angel, who calms their fear and tells them what to do. They are to go and tell the other disciples that the Lord is risen. At once fearful and yet filled with great joy, they obey. And in their obedience they see the risen Christ, who gives them further instructions. How are they and the disciples to continuing seeing Christ? How are they to keep the Lord ever in their sights? They must leave for Galilee. They must return to the place where Jesus began his mission. They must remember all that the Lord had done and taught. They must continue the work that saw their Lord walking the road to Calvary and beyond. And they must do all this in memory of Him. This is how they can experience the resurrected life. This is the way for them to continue to see the Lord.

Sisters and brothers, how is the Crucified and Risen Lord inviting us to keep him ever in our sight? Where is our Galilee?

Easter Sunday (Mass of the Day)
Terminals to Interchanges

Readings: Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Psalm 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-9

Sisters and brothers, many of us here, myself included, are probably old enough to remember a significant development in the history of public transport in Singapore. There was a time when, if you fell fast asleep on the bus and didn’t wake up until it reached its destination, you would find yourself at a bus terminal. Often, this was a lonely, God-forsaken place, without even a shelter for you to stand under. This secluded spot was where the bus route terminated. This was where people were expected simply to end their journey.

Then (was it sometime in the eighties?) things began to change. Many old terminals were renovated and rebuilt into posh new interchanges. And the difference was not just in the label and in the look, but also in travel habits. People no longer stopped abruptly at a terminal. They arrived at an interchange and then continued on the next stage of their journey by transferring to another feeder or trunk service. More recently, we can even transfer to the MRT or the LRT. These changes reflect a radical transformation in public transportation in Singapore. The many different and disconnected bus routes of the past are now being integrated with other modes of transport into a single transit system. All this so that people are better able to get to where they need to go. And it all began with the transformation of terminals into interchanges.

This significant development provides us with a good image of what we are celebrating on this Easter Day. It indicates to us the reason for our joy. The action in our readings today revolves around the tomb of the crucified Christ. This is the place where the disciples had left the bruised and battered body of their Master. This is also the place where they had laid to rest all their hopes and dreams for an earthly Messiah. This is the secluded spot where their journey with Jesus had come to an abrupt and tragic end. The tomb was their terminal.

Yet, even though the tomb is a desolate place – full of painful memories – something prevents the disciples of Jesus, especially the women, from simply abandoning it altogether. Something draws them to revisit it. And it is in the revisiting that an impossible transformation happens. The place of darkness and death, the place of desolation and despair, is changed into a place of light and life, of consolation and hope. The tomb that once held the corpse of Christ is found to be empty. Not only are the linen cloths that once wrapped Jesus tightly in an embrace of death loosened, but to the eyes of faith they now become signs of a new and indestructible life.

Where once the disciples were fearfully wrapped up in their own grief, gradually they are given the courage and the energy to do what we hear Peter doing in the first reading. They reach out to others, bearing witness to all that Jesus had done and taught. Most of all, they proclaim to everyone they meet the wondrous story of his dying and rising. This outward change in their behavior is the result of an inward transformation in their attitude and perception. They are gazing upon the world with new eyes. They are now able to do what we heard about in the second reading from the letter to the Colossians. Having seen eternal life in a few linen burial cloths lying in an empty tomb, their thoughts are now on heavenly things. Although they appear as they did before – very ordinary people, walking this earth like everyone else – their lives are now hidden with Christ in God. And for them this radical transformation begins when the secluded spot of journey’s end is changed into the starting point of an exciting new adventure. It all begins today at the empty tomb where the terminal is transformed into an interchange.

This is the event we are celebrating today. This is the cause of our joy. And we are joyful not only because of what happened to the disciples. We rejoice because this is also what continues to happen to us even now. On our own life’s journey, perhaps we too have sometimes been brought to an abrupt halt. Perhaps we too have experienced disappointment and despair. Perhaps we too have known the feeling of falling into darkness, of being wrapped in death’s embrace, of being sealed in a cold and clammy tomb.

And like the disciples, whether it is in our memories, our conversations, or in our prayer, we too may have somehow been drawn to revisit the places of our pain, even as we continued to cry out to God in our desolation. Only to discover – as Mary does, so early in the morning on that first Easter Day – that the stone has been rolled away and the tomb is now empty. There is no longer any reason for us to remain trapped within our own loneliness and pain. Although we may still not be able see the face of the Resurrected One, we can already glimpse signs of his rising. Like the beloved disciple gazing upon those linen cloths, we can, with the eyes of faith, already discern Christ’s call to a new life. We can hear his invitation to forsake our preoccupation with the things of earth so as to set our minds on the things of heaven. And in this new vision, we find the courage and the strength to rise again and to continue on our way, reaching out to others and proclaiming to them all that the Lord has done for us. We bear witness so that others too may find themselves closely connected to the One who is the source of life, so that we may all be brought to where we need to go.

Sisters and brothers, how is the Risen Lord transforming the terminals of our lives into interchanges today?