AFTER THE SOLEMN journey of Lent, through which we embrace the mystery of the death of Jesus Christ, we enter the mystery of Easter, a new life. And as we celebrate Easter, we cannot remain in the feelings of fear and anxiety, which merely lead us into inaction. All the gospels’ Easter narratives include the empty tomb. Our standing in front of the empty tomb symbolizes our standing at the threshold to new life. For example, in John’s gospel we imaginatively encounter Mary Magdalene, who runs to the grave with spices to prepare for Jesus’ funeral while continuing to be sad. However, at the dawn of Easter she hears Jesus say, “Do not hold onto me.”
At the very familiar space of death, representing deep feelings of despair, Jesus’ voice introduces a cut or prohibition and indicates that the old way cannot continue to operate beyond this point. Upon hearing this, Mary must face the empty tomb, which signifies a lack or a hole. The starting point, then, from which to walk into the paschal mystery, can be the acknowledgment that the lack of full wisdom, perfection, and completeness is the reality of the self and the world. Often, we experience resistance to moving or walking onto a new or unknown path, while still fully knowing a new life is waiting. The life of resurrection commands us to step into the resurrected body of Jesus Christ. In this pandemic-ridden time, what does it mean to walk into the new life of the Risen Christ?
First, the life of the paschal mystery begins with an embrace of a lack or a hole in our lives, which may be our sorrow or hopelessness in the pursuit of sincere faith. The resurrected body finds expression in that Jesus’ physical body disappears, and he then stands beyond our horizon of comprehension; we walk onto the unknown path. The empty tomb-—this hole—always lures us to move beyond our framework of understanding and action. The new hope running through the paschal mystery invites us to embrace our wounds and guilt derived from the failure to bring justice and peace in this world.
Second, the resurrected body of Jesus becomes the Path or the Way by which his life force moves forward. Like wind or water, Jesus’ resurrected body continuously moves and touches the world and all humankind. In our paschal faith, we become a part of the resurrected body of Christ, this life force that flows and moves constantly.
The 13th-century German mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg saw grace as light flowing from the Godhead. Her visions encourage us to live the Easter mystery, the life force that the resurrected body endows us with to flow and move. Here, our body and Christ’s resurrected body are mutually engaged through the flowing life force. Love, as a drive, cannot stay; it is constantly moving.
Similarly, the Tao Te Ching (a central text of both philosophical and religious Taoism foundational in many Asian cultures) also manifests a moving truth or life force, called the Tao (“the Way”). Chapter 8 recalls: “The highest form of goodness is like water. / Water knows how to benefit all things without striving with them. / It stays in places loathed by all people. / Therefore, it comes near the Tao.”
As a part of the resurrected body of Christ in the Tao, we too are supposed to flow like water, to serve the world peacefully, without any violence or hatred. In pursuing justice in the world, we are to be willing to go to any spaces that cause discomfort and unfamiliarity, because then we are close to the Risen Christ.
Jung Eun Sophia Park, SNJM, author of An Asian Woman's Religious Journey with Thomas Merton, is associate professor of religious studies and philosophy at Holy Names University in California.
Got something to say about what you're reading? We value your feedback!