"Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again."  

We recite this phrase, or one of its variants, as habitually as we make the exceedingly bold statement that what we are about to do, we do, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." What real difference do those declarations make in our daily lives? To discern that, let's look at Mary Magdalene's experience gradually internalizing the reality of the resurrection. 

Today's Gospel, an excerpt from John 20:1-18, shows that the resurrection might have been as hard to comprehend as was the cross. Setting the scene for humanity's first encounter with the Risen Christ, this passage seems to depict as much confusion as faith. John can help us walk with Mary through all that happened as she came to unanticipated faith. 

John tells us that Mary set out in the dark. In this Gospel, that has more to do with the texture of the times than the movement of sun and stars. Who on Earth could have been sadder than she?  She had witnessed how a violent, fanatical mob egged on by civil and religious leaders tried to definitively eliminate God's offer of love in Jesus. Surely, she shared in the Father's grief as she kept watch through every moment of torture, mocking and the soldiers' blind obedience that filled the hours from the end of their supper until Jesus' demise. 

Jesus' death affected Mary much like it affected Jesus; he died into the unknown and she had lost everything, including her reputation, to be part of the reign of God that Jesus heralded and made present. After the cross, Mary had nothing left, and the empty tomb made that physically real. Now there was nobody: No body, no sense of the presence of God, no hope, only a hole in her soul. 

Living in that tragic state, Mary assumed that Jesus' body had been stolen, and ran to bring the news to Peter and the other disciple. According to John's Gospel, the three ran back to the tomb. When the men went in, they accepted the truth of Mary's mindboggling report. This part of the story ends with the paradoxical statement that one of the disciples "saw and believed," although "they did not yet understand," and went home. 

Mary, still dwelling in darkness, remained at the tomb. When angels asked why she wept, she retold the bad news of the stolen body. Then someone asked the question Jesus had posed to his first disciples as well as to the thugs who arrested him: "Whom do you seek?" (John 1:38, 18:7).   

Convinced in her desolation, she missed the question and asked, "Did you take him?" When he spoke her name, she realized that she was in the real and transformed presence of her Lord. As she rejoiced in what she did not understand, Jesus did what he had done with the disciples at the Transfiguration and explained that this moment of glory was not the end, but a beginning. He commissioned her to proclaim the now-complete Gospel, the undreamed-of truth that evil was vanquished and now was the time to bring that Good News to the world. 

In our reading from Acts, Peter describes his experience of the Risen Christ. For Peter, the resurrection signaled the forgiveness of sin: the radical and freeing truth that evil had no ultimate or lethal power. Paul taught about the effects of that: "You have been raised with Christ, let that alone be your guiding star." Both Peter and Paul proclaimed that an absolutely new kind of life was thriving in the world. 

Mary and the others experienced the cost of resurrection before they comprehended its grace. They could authentically proclaim the living Christ because, with him, they had suffered the power of evil and witnessed its demise. The Easter proclamation has its deepest meaning for those who have confronted the demonic, hoped against hope, and been given an intimation of evil's downfall and the transformations that began with Christ's victory. 

Knowing what she did, Mary might well suggest that our Easter prayer be something like this:  "Grant us the grace and patient courage to understand what we proclaim and the faithfulness to see it through."  

Faith in Christ's resurrection is not a dogma, but a life-orientation that flows from the conviction that Christ's new life is ours as well. The resurrection is not a mystery to be clung to, but a practice to develop in ever new and deeper ways. As we live into it, our lives will proclaim Christ's presence and we can dare to proceed in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. This will make all the difference in the world. 

Today, evil seems so present and powerful that the faithful cry out with Jesus, "My God, why have you abandoned us?" (Mark 15:34). In his account of Jesus' passion, Luke invites us to enter into the scene to learn what Jesus teaches his disciples, from then until now. 

Luke's passion account repeats every title by which Jesus has been called: Son of Man, Son of God, Messiah, Christ and King of the Jews. Jesus acknowledged that those words were correct, but not the meaning his interrogators attached to them. As he would demonstrate to the end, God's love is God's only genuine power in the world, one that works through humble service, nothing more.

Today's Gospel opens with Jesus at the table with his disciples. Clearly aware that he was on the brink of suffering, he summarized his mission as he blessed and broke the bread. He equated the bread with his body and the cup with his blood: his entire self. As he had done throughout his mission, he offered his whole self to them. Following the breaking of bread, Jesus gave his disciples the most costly commandment of all: "Do this in memory of me." 

This command referred to far more than a ritual with bread and wine. It asserted that communion in him implied demonstrating God's love and offering their own lives for others, all the way to the cross (Luke 9:23-27, 44-45, 18:31-34).  

As Luke tells the story, it was in response to an argument about who was the greatest that Jesus explained himself to them one more time. Their argument mirrored their reactions to Jesus’ teaching about his impending suffering and death. Now, immediately after breaking the bread of his life with him, they violated his command by posturing for importance. Jesus, accustomed to them as he was, responded to their dispute saying: "I am among you as one who serves, and thus, the greatest among you act as servants." Then, addressing himself to Simon as the representative of all who would come after, Jesus said, "You will fail, and when you turn back, you will finally be prepared to humbly strengthen others." After that, he led them to the Mount of Olives, where he was used to praying. 

In days past, Jesus had taught his disciples to pray. Now, they watched him in a most passionate exchange with his Abba. Knowing that he was sent to embody the love of God and expose the impotence of lies, violence and blatant evil, he consecrated himself again as he had by his baptism and with the bread. He prayed to do God's will, to reveal the power of divine love through his seemingly disastrous confrontation with the power of darkness. 

From the supper to the cross, Jesus' faith was tested as never before. His own emotions as he was arrested, tortured, lied about and finally condemned surely deepened his compassion for the fearful disciples who ran, unable to entrust themselves to God's power. As he was arrested, Jesus proclaimed the opposite of what he had announced about the nearness of the Reign of God. In an announcement that may have terrified even himself, he admitted: "Now is the hour, the time for the power of darkness."  

In that darkness, religious and civil authorities goaded him to answer the most important question of a human life: Who do you say that you are? Was he the Messiah? His responses indicated that his way of being Messiah was beyond their comprehension. He called himself the Son of Man and they asked, "Are you the Son of God?" Might his enigmatic response, "You say that I am," have admitted that their charge was true? It could have been a declaration that his very vulnerability revealed an image of God that they wouldn't — or couldn't — grasp.  

We know the rest: With trumped up charges and a fanatical mob, they arranged for his crucifixion. He responded by praying for those who hated him and proclaimed salvation to a criminal crucified with him. According to Luke, Jesus' last words were, "Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit." That was part two of "Thy will be done." He kept hope that the Father was there for him, even to the darkest end. 

Now, while our world is at war, when the poor and vulnerable are abandoned and lies are offered as our daily bread, we feel we are again in the hour of darkness. Celebrating this Holy Week invites us to learn who we are as disciples. Jesus has left us his core prayer, and when we pray it, we consecrate ourselves to be for others, like Jesus.