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The testimony of women

Monday, April 2, 2018

From Matthew 28
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them on their way and greeted them. They approached, embraced his feet, and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid. Go tell my brothers."

In The Messiah, Jacques Duquesne's beautifully illustrated biography of Jesus, he reminds us that women were of little account in those days: "The surest means of discrediting the whole idea of Jesus' resurrection would be to have it proclaimed by women, whoever they might be."

At the tomb Jesus charged the women with a mission. "This was an extraordinary privilege that many Fathers of the Church would skirt around and whose underlying reasons they do not bother to elucidate." These women kept the faith. They came first to visit Jesus' grave, almost the first minute Sabbath was over. And they were the first to see him, risen and new but also risen and the same. "Jesus!" In that recognition tears and joy were all the same.

Maureen Day is a young mom who writes about her infant daughter, Veronica at her first Easter Vigil. "When the lights went out she was totally quiet. Suddenly the Paschal candle pierced the darkness; then Veronica did the same. She shrieked with delight. She put her feet on my belly and lunged toward the light. Her fists were opening and closing, my abdomen had become a trampoline, and her echoing squeals were unceasing."

Taken to the vestibule, "her delight gave way to heaving sobs. When I said 'If you can be quiet, we'll go back inside,' she responded with total silence. Back in the pew, however, she again saw that wondrous flame. The same wild, shrieking scene ensued. My husband Joseph and I took turns in the vestibule until the lights came back on."

Move ahead eleven years. Veronica and her younger brother David are grumbling about going to church three nights in a row. "Everyone is given a slender white candle and we walk over to the bonfire. Veronica is watching the fire with a marked intensity. When the firelight falls on her face, she seems transfixed. Prayers begin, and the Paschal candle is aflame. The flame passes from candle to candle, and I watch as she holds hers close and looks around at the other flames."

More than a hundred generations of women separate Mary and Veronica from Maureen and Veronica. No matter, they are caught up in the mystery of Christ's appearing, then in flesh, now in flame. "Mom! The fire, it just kept spreading! It didn't matter how many flames it made, it never got smaller. No matter how much fire we took away, it still kept giving."

Maureen and Veronica made their way into the church along with the rest of the Body of Christ. "Mom, it was infinity! It was just like love, Mom! It was just like God!" Mom smiled, her "eyes stinging, feeling that crescendo-instant of God's undeniable presence."

Looking for words, Maureen calls this experience "glorious wonder, captivating beauty, summit of all desires." Speechless myself, many Easters under my belt, I want to "approach this liturgical moment with a profound newness," like an infant, like an eleven-year-old. My heart speaks louder than my words, reverberating with what the Holy Spirit surrounding Jesus sings day by day by day.

All I ask for, Lord, is to see thee more clearly, and love thee more dearly, and follow thee more nearly, all these amazing Easter days. The snows of winter slowly give way to thaw, to buds, to new life. Let me claim the profound newness you want so much for all of us, and sing.



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