Christ is risen: he is risen indeed!

In the upper Midwest, the new life of spring is finally peeking out of the ground at every turn. We are –barring a late April surprise– finally escaping winter. Many Easter reflections will focus on that theme: springtime, new life after a season of dormancy, and new beginnings. But this analogy breaks down if we consider the experiences of Christians all over the world.

In the Southern Hemisphere it is not spring; it is fall, and winter approaches. Near the equator, there may be no discernible difference in the weather or vegetation at all. And in many places around the world, today would not be joyful if analyzed on its own. Many Christians face famine, shelter from bombs and shelling in war zones, or grapple with the greatest sorrows of their lives. Yet these Christians are also hearing and proclaiming that Christ is risen.

Maybe you feel truly joyful today. (If so, I am glad). But maybe it does not seem that way, and you don’t know what that means. Maybe you are looking at your life–or your family, or your country– wondering what the Resurrection truly means if things still are as they are.

What might our insistent proclamation that “Christ is risen” have to say to Christians if Easter’s meaning can’t hinge on the new life of spring or if we can’t feel the renewal? We could consider the words of St. Paul the Evangelist in the first letter to the Corinthians on the meaning of the Resurrection to help us:

“Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where O death, is your victory? By dying and then rising, Christ defeated sin that had separated us from God and from one another and caused death. (St. Paul sees death as the ultimate effect of sin). Because of the Resurrection, death’s power isn’t just dismissed or neutralized. It has been “swallowed up” -totally consumed-by God’s victory. The same goes for evil, darkness, and all other effects of our fallen world.

“Where O death, is your sting?” Death had a “sting” like a scorpion, injecting sorrow, sin, and more. Paul reminds us that because of Christ’s Resurrection, the “sting” of death is gone. We will still experience bodily weakness and death, but Christ has removed death’s ‘poison’ from us. Indeed, he himself is the antidote.

“Christ is risen: he is risen indeed!” does not mean the most difficult things–death, sin, sorrow, grief, separation, pain, wars, and injustice–do not exist anymore to us or to our brothers and sisters around the world. We are not saying, “Forget about it all, because Christ is risen. Ignore it, please.” Instead, the Resurrection means these realities, potent though they may seem now, are ultimately disarmed. Like St. Paul, we can know that evil will not ultimately win. These difficulties are vivid to us now (and God knows that), but God’s power shows us they cannot win. Indeed, these realities will barely even register on the scales of eternity; they will be like dust by comparison to what God has done and will continue to do. The agonies of this life are brief; risen life is eternal, and even the worst horrors of this world will one day be swallowed up into true communion.

We could also look to St. John Chyrostom’s famous Easter homily to help us:

Enter all of you, therefore, into the joy of our Lord, and, whether first or last, receive your reward…. Let all partake of the feast of faith. Let all receive the riches of goodness. Let no one lament his poverty, for the universal kingdom has been revealed. Let no one mourn his transgressions, for pardon has dawned from the grave. Let no one fear death, for the Saviour's death has set us free. He that was held prisoner of it has annihilated it.

Entering into this Easter joy does not discredit the suffering of the world. It does not mock or dismiss our sorrows. Christ’s Resurrection totally transforms our suffering, just as it transformed his.

The God who came to earth to be with us, who loves each one of us and died to save us, has risen to free us. Today he holds his hand out to us. He invites us to live in the joy of the Father–because nothing now can separate us from him.

In the words of the Easter entrance antiphon, we can imagine Jesus saying to us, “I have risen, and I am with you still, alleluia.”

Hope Zelmer

Hope Zelmer is a writer and a former theology teacher and campus minister at Fenwick High School, a Dominican Catholic preparatory school in Oak Park, Illinois. Hope has written for publications such as FaithND, Church Life Journal, and FemCatholic. She holds a BA and MA in Theology from the University of Notre Dame.