When it comes to the truth of Jesus’ life, death, and Resurrection, Jack Nicholson’s oft-quoted line from the movie A Few Good Men comes to mind: “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!”

Witnesses in a courtroom are always admonished to tell what they know in precise and unembroidered terms: “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Compare this to Saint Paul’s championing of the “unleavened” truth in his words to the Corinthians.

Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone was moved away from the entrance. She ran at once to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, breathlessly panting, “They took the Master from the tomb. We don’t know where they’ve put him.”

There aren’t too many things more unnerving than shopping for a casket. Especially when you’re with the person who is going to be in it. When we walked into the showroom to pick one, I was so unsettled I felt a touch dizzy.

The truth of the Resurrection is a hard one for us to wrap our minds around. Death appears so final. Yet life in a family can give us clues to help us see and believe. One such clue came my way when my father was nearing death.

My dad had a knack for gathering in troubled souls, and my mom had a talent for nurturing them back to health. My parents’ charges didn’t always stay well, but at least they were offered a moment of sanity in the chaos of their lives.

The parish I served before retirement held an annual egg hunt on Easter morning in the park behind the church. It was 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.

Love and ever more love is the only solution to every problem.