Easter Came Later

By Sister Mary Francis Reichenberger

Isn’t it amazing (and it is for our amazement) that certain memories stick? They provide consolation in times of desolation.  The recent celebration of the Paschal Mystery of the death and resurrection of Christ recalls a powerful experience, my own Easter narrative that occurred some decades ago.  Powerful ones last.

I can’t recall what occasioned this empty feeling that Easter, but all I know is that this particular Easter Sunday felt tomb-like, the stone had not been rolled back.  No alleluias there!  The Easter readings spoke of resurrection, an encounter with the Risen One, and rejoicing, but for me the mood was more like the psalmist who complained, “How can we sing the song of the Lord in a foreign Land” (Psalm 137).  I was walking by faith, but blind. Still waiting for Easter to bloom within me.

Then, a week into Easter as I was walking through a windowed corridor, I was stopped, mesmerized, literally, by an African violet.  It was the way the sun shone on the vivid purple blossoms and the green velvety leaves.  It’s one of those encounters, a truth beyond telling, as most experiences of the heart and spirit are. The stone was rolled back. I felt visited by the Risen One who brought me back to life, that the promise of a new life for all creation and a home with Him was for me, too.   I remained fixated.  Who would want to leave a place of such peace and ultimate certainty? It was Easter!

Joe Wise, the religious song writer, expressed my experience with this lyric:

                  And then it dawns on me your Word is life,

                  Your love is stronger than the night,

                  And then the darkness in my soul packs up its bags and has to go,

                  Your word is life.

Wherever we are:  looking at an empty tomb where the burial cloths lie and we are clinging to a hope that seems contrary to all reason, or are filled with resurrection joy, both are places where the Risen Lord is there to meet us.

Happy Easter!