(This is my go-to Easter message, used before and recycled. I don’t think I could improve on it appreciably today, certainly not with everything else that’s going on. So I hope you’ll agree that repetition can be the mother not only of all learning, but also of some jubilation. I do, however, regret that King Charles reserves his congratulatory messages for Eid, not Easter. )
No one can name a year, a century or an age that changed man and his world for ever.
But it’s easy to say which day did just that. Easter Sunday, 1,993 years ago today (probably).
Hellenic man had always struggled with death, its finality, its cruelty, its nothingness. Death seemed to render life meaningless, deprive it of any sense of purpose.
Life itself had to be regarded as the purpose of life, and the Hellenes, weaned as they were on logic, couldn’t fail to see a self-refuting paradox there.
To be sure, there were all sorts of Orphic fantasies about afterlife, but that’s what they were and were seen to be – fantasies.
And then, on this day, 1,993 years ago, people weren’t just told but shown that, just as there is death in life, so there is life in death.
Now they knew there was no such thing as a happy ending to life. If it was to be happy, it was not the ending.
There had never been such rejoicing, never such an outburst of hope, liberation and energy. Not only did imitating God in Christ become man’s moral commitment. The ability to do so became his ontological property.
Man was no longer a short-term lodger in life; he became an eternal occupant. He could now imitate Christ not only by being good but also by being creative. And create he did.
Thus, on this day 1,993 years ago a new civilisation was born, the likes of which the world had never seen, nor ever will see. More important, a new family came into existence.
Universal brotherhood became a reality: all men were brothers – not because someone said so, but because they all had the same father.
This unity was a bond far stronger than even the ordinary, what is today witlessly called ‘biological’, family. And it certainly betokened a much greater concord than any worldly alliances, blocs, contracts, agreements, political unions – or for that matter nations or races.
“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus,” explained Paul, making every subsequent, secular promise of equality sound puny and vulgar.
It has not always worked out that way. Just like the ancient Hebrews who were dispersed because they broke God’s covenant, the world pushed aside the lifebelt divinely offered.
It hoped to find unity in itself – only to find discord, devastation and the kind of spiritual emptiness for which no material riches can possibly make up.
But the lifebelt was not taken away. It still undulates with the waves, still within reach of anyone ready to grasp it.
This makes today the most joyous day of the year – regardless of whether or not we are Christians, or what kind of Christians.
On this day we can forget our differences and again sense we are all brothers united in the great hope of peace on earth and life everlasting. We can all, regardless of where we live, rejoice on hearing these words, ringing, thundering in whatever language they are spoken:
Christ is risen!
Le Christ est ressuscité!
Christus ist auferstanden!
Cristo ha resucitado!
Cristo è risorto!
Kristus on üles tõusnud!
Kristus er oppstanden!
Xристос воскрес!
Chrystus zmartwychwstał!
Kristus vstal z mrtvých!
Cristo ressuscitou!
Kristus ir augšāmcēlies!
Christus is verrezen!
Χριστὸς ἀνέστη!
Krisztus feltámadt!
Kristus är uppstånden!
Kristus prisikėlė!
Kristus nousi kuolleista!
Hristos a înviat!
INDEED HE IS RISEN!
A tentative Amen.