The lengthening daylight, the rising temperatures, the yellow forsythia, the first buds of the early roses, all cause us to gaze with fresh vision upon a world being reborn, the wonders of springtime. The landscape which appeared dull and dead in the dreary days of January and February rises to new life in May. Mother Nature is herself a plenitude of resurrection parables and calls to reflection and prayer. The disciples who witnessed the cold finality of Good Friday felt that Calvary was the end of all their hopes and dreams. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus were so explicit: "But we had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel ..." How often do we too, in our winters, in our moments of personal tragedy, or when we hear of the heart-rending scenes in Kosovo, or foot-dragging in the Northern peace process, how often do we echo: "But we had hoped"?
Over the past few weeks we have prayerfully reflected on the empty tomb, the women in the garden, Peter and John standing at the entrance, and doubting Thomas and his call to come closer with hand outstretched. The disciples on the road to Emmaus, on meeting Jesus, became "alive" as never before: "Did not our hearts burn within us?" We live in the mystery of God and His world - we also have to learn now how to live in the mystery of Christ's resurrection.
Jesus, in one of his final talks at the Last Supper said, "I am the way, the truth and the life." How often has it happened, when in a strange place we ask for directions, people say: "Turn right here, take the second left, turn to your right again and the road you want is the fourth on the left. Or is it the fifth or third road?" We probably ended up getting lost or asking someone else for the directions. Now suppose the person we ask were to say, "Come, I'll take you there." In the latter case the person is the way and we cannot miss where we are going. That is how Jesus saw himself. He does not only give advice and directions; he leads to the Father, walks with us, encourages and strengthens us even feeds us for the journey. He does this for us in scripture word and sacrament and through the ministry of others.
When we place our trust in people, we soon become aware of their feet of clay, the weakness of their humanity, their selfishness, or pride, or blindness. Our weary pilgrim steps falter and are so easily led astray. Our questing journey can find us immersed in dark and dismal ways, our heart sunk in sorrow or despair. Those who help us or direct us, being human too, have mixed motives and often add to our confusion and pain. Jesus alone can say: "I am the Truth". The uncomplicated presence of the pure truth in Jesus protects us in mind and heart and saves from all that can corrupt and kill. Jesus does not just teach truth, he lives and breathes it. He is truth. With Cardinal Newman we call aloud in faith and with awakened hope:
"Lead Thou me on.
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on.
Keep Thou my feet, I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me."
When Jesus spoke of himself as "life", he was talking of the inner core of being. We all seek that which will make our lives worth living. Adventurers love to pitch their energies against some perceived challenge be it mountain, river, speed or distance, knowledge or sickness. Jesus knew that the greatest goal and challenge in the core of our being was to give and receive love. Love makes life worth living. Life lived with Jesus is the greatest adventure. Life with Jesus is love revealed and it is life fulfilled.
Let us pray:
Almighty and everliving Lord, you restored us to life by raising Christ from death. Strengthen us by the Easter sacrament that we may feel your resurrection power in our daily lives.
F. Mac N.