I will never forget the bizarre experience of living through the Spring of 2020, as I’m sure you won’t either. When news of drastic responses to the pandemic started coming in the waning days of February 2020, I was on vacation in San Diego. During the later part of that trip, I got word that the bishop, as a precaution, would like me to self-quarantine at my parents’ house when I got back to Columbus. Needless to say, that came as quite a shock to me, but I did it. Back from vacation, I stayed with my parents for the next two weeks, setting up a folding table in their living room and converting it into a little chapel from which we celebrated daily Mass, which I live streamed using my cell phone. Our good friends, the Kebes, called it “St. Gardner of the Quarantine.” The only time I left their house during that time was to walk Benny, and even then we would conscientiously give a wide berth to others who were out walking.
That was just the beginning of the weirdness. After returning to Dennison, where I was stationed at that time, I stayed mostly isolated for the next two months or so. I live streamed Masses from the empty church, celebrated Easter in an empty church, taught Zoom classes with the Juniors at Tuscarawas Central Catholic, prayed the Rosary with others on a livestream, had personal prayer, exercised, watched probably way too many shows on Netflix and Amazon Prime and cooked many meals for myself. For two months I barely had any in-person contact with anyone besides my parish secretary, and only then from a distance.
Even though I did my best to keep busy, deep down my heart was restless. I yearned for the closeness of my parishioners and my family, but the pandemic had created this great chasm. During that time, we would visit parishioners, bringing them Communion and praying briefly with them, but even that was torture, as we still stood way back at their driveways and front yards, praying with them from afar. And Sunday after Sunday I celebrated Mass livestream with my cell phone, and no congregation but Benny.
I can’t tell you what a relief it was when Memorial Day weekend rolled around that year. Finally, I had the all-clear to see my family again and it was such a joyful moment. We met in Somerset and it was just a beautiful reunion. My heart finally rested easy for the first time in months. At the same time there was the return to in-person Mass, and I cannot tell you what a blessing it was to see people coming back into church for the first time in almost three months. It was overwhelming and so joyful. There were more than a few tears of joy and peace shed by me and everyone. I can remember people saying that the return to Mass in person felt like a homecoming. I felt that way too. Ultimately, our hearts are at home when we are united with those we love. Homecoming happens most deeply in the heart.
This Easter is the chance for all of us to remember that moment of Jesus’ resurrection, the moment that has forever changed history because in it, Jesus reveals His ability to draw us to the true home for which our hearts are made, that union with God beyond the bounds of this broken world. What an incredible gift this is.
Easter is the opportunity every year for us to remember the core of our faith–the fact that Jesus has defeated sin and death so that our lives might be renewed here on Earth and so that we may live in the hope of a home of perfect joy, love and peace beyond the veil of death. For so long, the story of sin, of being spiritually far from home, was what defined humanity. Stretching all the way back to our first parents, through sin we have wandered far from God, each other and our true selves. I’m sure all of you can think of times in your own life where your heart seemed to cry out: “Why did I do that?” “That wasn’t me.” “Why am I so unhappy?” These questions come to us when we wander from God, the home of our hearts. But today we can say, ‘alleluia,’ because the brokenness and joylessness of sin flees before the grace Jesus has made available to us through His resurrection.
Nothing in this world compares to that joy, because it isn’t based on passing things that will never really satisfy our hearts, but on the deep, lasting joy of His Love. We are made sharers in this Love which is stronger than death, the Love that is God Himself, through Baptism and all the Sacraments.
St. Paul reminds us today, “If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.” We can share in the deepest joy this life has to offer because on Easter we remember that we all now have a permanent home in the presence of God. The hope of the resurrection reminds our hearts to look forward to the ultimate homecoming that is assured to we who live in faith. Our Christian hope is like a hot air balloon for the soul, constantly lifting us up towards our true Home.
We have glimpses of that Heavenly homecoming every time we gather for the Eucharist at Mass, for in this meal we eat the Bread of Life which nourishes us on our journey Home. We glimpse it in the Sacrament of Reconciliation when our heart is cleansed of sin and fortified by God’s grace, renewing His life in us and putting us on the path home to Heaven again. Every Sacrament and every part of our Christian life is a step on the joyful journey home to God which is now possible for us all. Sin can no longer keep us isolated and far from Home, because Jesus has flooded and continues to flood us with His grace through the triumph of His resurrection. Alleluia!
We heard in the Gospel about the burial cloth in Jesus’ tomb that John and Peter saw rolled up. This detail was a little hint of the glorious reality they would soon come to see and touch–Jesus risen and alive. It’s almost like Jesus, in His glory, rolled up that cloth and said, “Well, won’t be needing that anymore,” before walking out of the tomb. This neatly rolled head wrapping signaled that it wasn’t thieves that took Jesus’ body, who would’ve left His tomb in disarray, but rather that Jesus had risen. The grave could no longer hold Him! As John states in today’s Gospel, “they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.” Jesus had to rise from the dead because He was not just any man, but God and man, willing to taste death so He could transform it into the pathway to the Home that God has always desired for us. The risen Lord beckons each of us to join Him in this new Home one day. If we open the eyes of our hearts through His grace, we can recognize Him alive and still at work among us in the Church, giving us everything we need to get there!
So I pray that today God will give all of us a fresh taste of the joy of Heaven, that He would increase our anticipation for that Heavenly Homecoming that has been promised to us ever since Jesus walked from the tomb gloriously risen. Let us not be discouraged by the difficulties and trials of this life, because in Jesus, we have the sure hope of the Heavenly Homecoming made possible by His Resurrection!
+ Heavenly Father, thank you for drawing us back to you through your Son. Jesus, thank you for the victory over sin and death that you offer each of us through your resurrection! Holy Spirit, flood each of us today with the pure joy of living for our Heavenly Homecoming! We ask this through Jesus Christ, our risen Lord. Amen. +