But as the newness, the freshness of the Easter joy and triumph passes away, does not another feeling come and mingle with it? A feeling of awe, almost of dread, comes upon us, like that terror which came upon the guards at the sepulchre as they saw the angel who rolled away the stone, of whom St. Matthew says that his countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow; like that fear which came even on the holy women as they saw the two angels in shining apparel standing at the empty tomb; and upon the Apostles themselves when Jesus stood in their midst soon after; for the evangelist tells us that they were troubled and frighted, in spite of his words giving them peace and telling them not to be afraid.
Indeed, I think there was no one of those who saw our risen Lord, except his glorious and Blessed Mother, whose love was so perfect that it quite cast out this fear. And still more is it in our poor and imperfect hearts; we cannot shake it off. How many are there of us, unless, indeed, those innocent ones who have not yet known what sin is, who, if this were really and truly the morning of the resurrection, and the risen one could be seen by those who should seek him, would arise gladly and run to meet him, and fall in loving adoration at his feet?
If we can in our inmost heart feel that we would, we have reason indeed to be glad and rejoice to-day. But to feel so there must be something in us besides that thrill of triumph and of victory which overpowers us as the splendor of the resurrection first breaks upon our souls. There must be a true, fervent, and deep love of the God who to-day comes so near to us; a hatred from the bottom of our hearts and souls of all that in the least degree separates us from him; there must be, beside faith, also hope and charity, such as the saints have had—that hope which knows that he loves us and has forgiven us, that charity which would make us die sooner than offend him again. And these we have not because of our sins.
Yes, it is sin which casts the shadow on our Easter; it is the love and affection for it which still remains in us; it is that compromising spirit which is even at our best times holding us back, keeping us from fully loving, trusting, and giving ourselves up to God, for fear that we might lose something by doing so; it is this that makes us afraid to approach him and to share in his joy. As for mortal sin, that, of course, takes the happiness of Easter away altogether; to one who is in its darkness the thought of meeting God brings, and can bring, no thought of joy. But even venial sin brings its dread with it, too. And what is the remedy for this dread? It is very simple. It is only to try now to begin to love with our whole hearts him who has loved us, and given his life for us; whose delight is to be with us and to have us come to him; to keep nothing back from him—in short, to live here in our feeble measure the life we hope to live in heaven. This is the way, and the only way, for us to enter now as we would wish into the joy of our Lord.
Sermon LXIII.
The Triumph Of Christ.
This is the day which the Lord hath made:
let us rejoice and be glad in it.
—Psalm. cxvii. 24.
[USCCB: Psalm cxviii. 24.]
The festival of Easter is, above all things, my brethren, a day of joy. Just as we love the sunshine more after days of cloud and tempest, so also is our joy keener and more intense when it follows sorrows.
It is for this reason that the joy of Easter is greater than that of Christmas, or of any other season of the Christian year. For we have been passing through a time of sorrow. We have beheld in Passion-tide our dearest Lord in suffering. We have beheld him as the King of Martyrs, worthy of the title, because his pains were so far in excess of anything that mere man has ever suffered or could ever suffer. We have seen him in his agony in the garden, when the sins of the whole world and of all time were presented to his vision and pressed heavily upon him, filling his Sacred Heart with deepest grief. We have called to mind his betrayal by his trusted friend and disciple; his arraignment before impious and unjust judges; his cruel condemnation and death. Despised and rejected by his own chosen people whom he had come to save, a robber and murderer preferred before him, we have beheld him abandoned to the tortures of the heathen soldiers, scourged, and spit upon, and crowned with thorns, and finally led forth to die a malefactor's death upon the cross.
And worse than all is the thought that he was forsaken by those whom he held most dear, those whom he had chosen to be his special friends and disciples, and who had been his constant companions in his public ministry. They all forsook him and fled, leaving him to die.