The Best And Most Credible Easter Piece I've Yet Read Today

THE FIRST THING TO KNOW about this is the biography at the end of it:

Mary Catherine Redmond is a Sister of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She has ministered in various aspects of health care and is presently serving as chief physician assistant in hospital emergency medicine, serving the underserved of New York City.

 

Or, as I'd say, she's got the credibility to address what Easter means this year that I lack. Here's the link to the whole piece that starts this way:

 

I found myself a couple of weeks ago in a small group of women religious reflecting on the gift of religious life to our world at this time. "We believe in the paschal mystery," I said. "That is our gift to this time. We believe in transformation, life from death and the presence of a loving God," I shared — and felt deeply what I was saying.

I do not know where that statement came from. I was surprised I said it. However, I do know that I believe it deep down in my heart and have felt it in prayer this past year. A year fraught with fear, death, isolation, loss and feelings too numerous to name. I am sure you have some other feelings you can add. As a global pandemic was gripping our world last year, we were in the midst of Lent. A Lent that has lasted much longer than 40 days.

During this past year, I have felt a continued connection with the Agony in the Garden — "if this cup could just pass" — and the deafening silence of Holy Saturday, waiting for word to spring forth that Jesus had risen. Even though our liturgical calendar celebrated Easter last April, there was little joy and very somber alleluias as we waded through the height of an unknown disease and a day that was a date on the calendar but far from lived reality. A day that saw some of our highest death tolls in New York City.

What does it mean that I believe in the paschal mystery? How can my belief be a witness to hope, transformation and life in our world?

 

How's that for a cliff-hanger?

 

There was an anniversary a while back, the fourth anniversary of the death of a first responder who I didn't know but whose death impinged on my life in a way that has moved and haunted me ever since, the kind of death while in service, laying down his life for someone he didn't know, that has led to me considering that my life has been misspent up till now. In listening to people who knew him, well and only casually, I think that though he didn't spend his time reading things erudite authors wrote about things, the sciences, the arts, philosophy, theology, etc. he got a lot farther than I have taking that route instead of the one he took. I'm tempted to say listen to the ones who do, think about what they do and give this up as I go and volunteer someplace. I don't know if any place would want me at my age but I just might see if they need floors washed or things cleaned.