by Scott Wright
In the readings for the Easter Season, Jesus appears first to Mary Magdalene, early in the morning, then to his disciples gathered in the upper room, later in the evening, and he offers them a greeting of peace: “Peace be with you!”
We live in a world that is torn apart by violence and strife, yearning for peace. There are wars – real wars in Syria and the Middle East – and rumors of wars – in the Korean peninsula and Asia Pacific. Where is the peace that Jesus promises to his disciples? Where is the power of the resurrection?
Many years ago, during the civil war in El Salvador, I recall an Easter vigil where this question was raised. In a small village beside a river that marked the division between two opposing armies, among a humble people that had endured seven years of war, the Gospel reflection began:
“In our day, just as in the time of Jesus, history presents us with a question: Who has the last word in history? Will it be death or life? Who will have the last word? Will the Empires of the earth have the last word? Will the oppressive powers that condemn the poor to death have it? Will war and violence have the last word? Will death or life have it?”
These were – and are – real questions, real for us today. We do not need to look far around the globe or deep into our hearts to feel the anguish and uncertainty of those questions. We are like Thomas, in this week’s Gospel reading, who says to Jesus: “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger into the nail marks, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
We are quick to judge Thomas, and the tradition even gives him a name: “Doubting Thomas.” But if we are honest with ourselves and with each other, we share his doubts. Where is the power of the resurrection in our world today? When we look around the world today, we see Good Friday, not Easter Sunday, we see crucified people, not resurrected victims.
But the Easter Season poses to us another question, another challenge, another invitation. We may not remember that it was also Thomas who said: “Let us go with him and die with him” when Jesus made his final journey to Jerusalem. The power of the resurrection cannot be separated from the cost of discipleship and the suffering of the cross.
As so often happens, those who believe in the power of the resurrection are those who also bear the marks of the cross, those who bear the wounds of Christ or who stand in solidarity with the crucified of this world. Like Mary Magdalene, who stood at the foot of the cross next to Jesus’ mother, Jesus appears first to those who share in the pain of this world. His message is: Only from the foot of the cross can we proclaim the power of the resurrection.
That was the message I heard so many years ago in El Salvador, a land of victims and martyrs, on that Easter night, surrounded by a humble people and faithful remnant. The Gospel reflection that night concluded:
“So tonight we proclaim that history is not a dark night, but one of light. It is the light that the resurrected One has poured into our history. So we continue our pilgrimage, our Easter journey. This night gives us the answer for which our hearts yearn: Neither death, nor war, nor despair has dominion; the God of life, the God of the resurrection has the final word!”
Today, there are many signs of resurrection even in the midst of the world’s passion: people welcoming migrants and refugees fleeing violence, caring for creation and vulnerable communities, addressing the structural causes of racism, militarism and poverty, and bearing witness to Gospel nonviolence as a way to resolve conflicts and reconcile differences – even to prevent or to abolish war.
May it be so, and may we make of our Easter journey a faithful witness of solidarity with the victims of war, and a firm commitment to the peace of Christ and nonviolence of Jesus in our day. When we truly live this vision of Gospel nonviolence, then we may truly greet one another with Jesus’ greeting to his disciples on that night of resurrection: “Peace be with you!”