As followers of Jesus who celebrate the Eucharist, we are among the witnesses “who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.”

Theological mysteries aren’t meant to be mysterious. When we talk about the Paschal Mystery—conveniently encapsulated in the acclamation, “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again”—we shouldn’t feel we are staring into a cosmic void.

In the last years of my grandfather’s life, he suffered from worsening dementia. I know this isn’t the case for everyone with that terrible disease, but for him, even as his memory painfully vanished, his personality hung on, and for a long time, it was such a consolation. 

A parish in which I once served holds an annual egg hunt on Easter morning in the park behind the church. It is a delight to watch hundreds of toddlers filling their baskets with plastic eggs, each with a piece of candy inside.

We rejoice on this Easter day at the victory of love and life over sin and death.

To be content, to find true love, is what essentially drives us all, but if found, would it be recognized?