The Octave of Easter is an interesting time in which the chronology of the days of the week are eliminated, the calendar is disregarded, and time suspended. In the Christian Koinonia (Koinonia is the original word used to describe the Christian community in the early history of Christianity. I am making a mindful step in eliminating the word “church” from my vocabulary. The word “church” comes from the German “kirche” which describes a building, NOT a community of faithful disciples of Jesus), we believe that the 7 days following Easter Sunday is all one and the same day, namely, Easter. This is reflected in the Liturgy of the Hours, in which the psalms and many of the readings are the same as Easter Sunday. After Evening Prayer (Vespers) tonight, the Octave will end.
In our “home church” service on Easter, Ruthie and I were reflecting that the uneasiness, the uncertainty, the anxiety, and the fears that have arisen from the Covid-19 pandemic is not dissimilar from that of the disciples of Jesus who hid themselves away from the scrutiny of the public behind the locked doors of the upper room. They were unsettled and fearful for their lives. During these days in which we are wisely staying at home, we are probably experiencing the unease at the same level as the disciples. We feel uncomfortable, and are afraid to step outside our doors. It is as if we are “oned” to the disciples of Jesus 2000 years ago. We have, in a sense, crawled into their bodies and feel everything they are feeling.
In the midst of this unsettledness and doubt, steps Jesus whose words, “Peace be with you,” begins to soften the fear, and settle the unsettledness of our lives. We are assurred by Jesus’ words, that, in spite of what may happen to us, whether we get infected or not, whether we die from this illness or not, we are embraced by the love and the peace of Christ Jesus. The “oneing” (to use the words of Julian of Norwich” we have with God which happened when the Incarnate God died on the cross is permanent. God’s love cannot be taken from us, in spite of ourselves and our shortcomings. The image I carry in my mind is that of Jesus encompassing all of humanity in a huge loving embrace. We are all held close to the breast of Christ who loves us so much.
It is in this image that I find peace. It is in this image that I know God still loves me, even when I don’t much love myself that much (alas, I am too well aware of my faults, my sins, my own brokenness). It is in this image that I know God will welcome me home when I die.
To this day, my favorite novel is Victor Hugo’s “Les Misérables”. It is probably the most Christian book ever written, and it puzzles me greatly and am scandalized that the Catholic Church had it on its list of condemned books for such a long time. I remember taking my daughters to see the staged opera (it is hardly what I would call a musical) of Lez Misérables at the Ordway Theater. I did warn them that I would be an embarrassment to them during the show. I brought a pocketful of Kleenex because I knew I would weep from the beginning notes of the opera to its closing scene.
This morning, when I awakened I turned on the television and on HBO was the movie musical version of Lez Misérables. Jean Valjean is at the convent dying and sings that beautiful song to God, asking God to forgive his sins and take him home to eternal life. Cosette and Marius, finding where he is, rush to be at his Valjean’s side. There appears to Valjean Cosette’s mother, Fantine, who had died earlier. Valjean had promised to the dying Fantine, that he would find her daughter Cosette and raise her as his own daughter. Fantine sings to Valjean to take her hand and accompany her to heaven. As he walks with her, he sees the Bishop of Digne, who had helped Valjean in his own conversion, hold out his hand and welcome him to heaven. As usual, I found myself reaching for Kleenex, again, overcome by the beauty of this scene.
This is what awaits us. This is what Easter is all about. A God who loves us so much. A God who is there for us as we leave this life and enter into eternal life. Though we all have our own passions and death, we are assured by the words of Paul, that we are also one with Christ in his resurrection. As we read the story of Jesus appearing to the disciples in the Upper Room, and Thomas kissing the hands of the resurrected Jesus, we know that in spite of our belief, or even unbelief, our certainty, and our doubting, that Jesus is, indeed, risen and is there to welcome us home.
