We are Easter People

“We are witnesses of all that he did, both in the country of the Jews and in Jerusalem…,” (Acts 10:39). This verse in the book of Acts is very simple, but it tells the entire story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection in eighteen words. It conjures up images that are full of joy, frustration, perseverance, fear, amazement, suffering, and sorrow; the apostles experienced this then and two thousand years later, so do we.

Pope St. John Paul once said, “Catholics are Easter people” because of our belief in these images that Scripture gives us of Jesus’ life. Bishop Joseph Williams of Camden, New Jersey, beautifully says in his understanding of Easter people, “being ‘Easter people’ means holding joy and sorrow in tandem; to hold together both the crucifixion and the resurrection,” (see living out Easter joy on his show “Practicing Catholic”). Holding in tandem the sorrow and joy of the crucifixion and the resurrection…what does that mean for us as Easter people, in the day-to-day? Or more simply, in the “pots and pans of our lives” as St. Teresa of Avila tells us?

Joy and Sorrow Together: Finding God in the Moments of Letting Go

I remember the day that we drove our son to College Station for Fish Camp at Texas A&M, a rite of passage that every new Aggie participates in which is intended to help prepare them for the new life they will soon be experiencing as a college student. Our son was very excited and nervous to begin this new life, and I tried to support him and make sure he had everything he needed to begin this journey. But my heart was heavy, I was anticipating the loss of his daily presence, the simple pleasures of watching him enjoy a meal I had prepared, running errands together, or sitting outside enjoying the sunset with the rest of our family. I was overjoyed when he received his acceptance letter to my alma mater, I knew he would have a wonderful experience there and he had worked very hard for this moment. 

It was such a miracle to watch this boy-child grow into the young man he had become and

I felt so blessed and grateful to God for entrusting me with this person. But the sorrow I felt as I watched him walk away from our truck that day in the parking lot of Reed Arena was overwhelming; I cried all the way home even though, at the same time, I felt so full of joy because of how brave he was in beginning this adventure on his own. I knew that I would have to “clear out the old yeast, so that I [we] could become a fresh batch of dough…;” (1 Corinthians 5:7).  In this letting go of my son, I was experiencing and witnessing the transformation that God had intended both for him and for me. 

Christ and St. Mary Magdalene at the Tomb, Rembrandt, 1638

The apostles had to let go of Jesus. In Mary Magdalene’s frantic declaration, “they have taken the Lord from the tomb and we don’t know where they put him,” (John 20:2), we hear the sorrow she must have felt, the panic of facing life without the Jesus she had known and loved. But we also know that, when Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene on the eighth day, the first day of the new week, and said, “Mary! She turned to him and said in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,” in the realization that the “old” Jesus would no longer be available to her, but that the glorified Jesus would be, as she announces to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” (John 20: 16, 18). She held the sorrow of the crucifixion and the joy of the resurrection in tandem in her heart in those moments. As Easter people, we are called to do the same. Not just on Easter Sunday, but every day, giving glory to God, in gratitude for what was and what is, in confident trust of what will be. “This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice it in it and be glad,” (Psalm 118:24).

Terri Edgington, St. Peter Prince of Apostles, San Antonio, ASC class of ‘14