He Is Risen!

"Who will move the stone?" According to Mark, that's what the women wondered as they approached the tomb with oils and spices to anoint the body that had been crucified three days before.

What they found was "a young man, dressed in white." Mark does not call him an angel. So who was this young man?

I love the Triduum. I love the rites and the rituals from Holy Thursday through Saturday. The covering of the statues. The washing of the feet. The story about the Last Supper. The procession of the Holy Eucharist through the church to the Altar of Repose. The empty tabernacle. The extinguished candle.

And then the solemnity of Good Friday. The necessity of the Death so that Christ may triumph.

This year, I was privileged to be a lector, sharing the reading of Genesis--the beginning of it all. Reading in the dark Church, with just our voices. Then the story of Exodus and Isaiah--the story of God's Promise to His People.

Then the Gloria, the bells and the light and the celebration.

And the best part: welcoming those who have chosen to "cross the Tiber"--or to complete their journey. This year we welcomed an entire family as well as a long-time parishioner who had never been baptized.

Afterwards, there is the chorus of "Happy Easter!" as we head out of the church, back to our homes, knowing we have been saved and that Good has, indeed, triumphed over Evil.

I am dependent on these rites, these rituals. They mark the passages of my life. I love it when Passover coincides with Easter, the way it was in the beginning, the way it should be. There is a strength to that, a Power.

Add the prayers of those celebrating Pascha (Mimi--did I get that right?) and God is truly Here.