6. The discretion of God

The Resurrection does not wipe out the Passion. Triumphalism maintains Jésus in a suppedly divine condition which he enjoyed previously. The real resurrection is at the heart of history, at the heart of history, at the heart of the world, as simple and as intimate as the birth of a child. It is a mystery not of absence, but of a new presence, as discreet as it is promising. It introduces the radically new, but scarcely upsets anything. Let's listen and see!

Order reigns in Jerusalem on the night of the Resurrection. Anybody can go for a walk at night and pass by the tombs, while others slept soundly. Pilate sleeps with tight fists, his well-manicured hands folded over his smothered conscience. Mrs Pilate is somewhat disturbed. Her husband did not follow the recommendations of the dream which augured the prisoner's innocence. This so called governor is in fact, a coward, unable to resist the least pressure from the people. Herod too is asleep! He is dreaming about the prophet whom he had beheaded, John the Baptiser, and whom he is still confusing with the One they have just crucified. After the Passover liturgies, the High Priests are exhausted. They are asleep, tragically unconscious of the fact of having taken part in a real drama and beside... yes beside their pomps... in the vicinity of the tombstone! As for the disciples, they cannot close their eyes. They are too unhappy and ask themselves whether they are dead or alive.

Three women, the pride of humanity, are not asleep. They wend their way through the night to show honour to a corpse, the corpse of that Friend they loved so much. They are about to fulfil those memorable rites which mark mankind's respect for the dead. They are afraid, not knowing how to roll back the stone, nor what they will find at the other side, but they head on nevertheless, ignorant of what is about to happen.

By faith, we too are present there. But we know! Like Elias in his cave, what might astonish us is the silence, a disturbing discretion, no explosion, simply a coming forth. The earthquake, the veil rent in two, the tombs which opened up and rendered their dead, that was beforehand, on the Cross, at the extreme moment, at the point of no return, when Love gave itself utterly, abandoned itself, rendered itself completely vulnerable, and in one final gasp, gave all.

That evening, the birth of Jesus from among the dead, was just as peaceful as was His birth at Bethlehem. We might have wished for fireworks, one grand flash from the media a convincing and decisive sign. At least we might have hoped that the enemies would realise their mistake and be ashamed! But nothing like that, or almost nothing, just an amazing dramatic calm. No revenge, no settling of accounts, no recrimination. Love is the conqueror, but does not render evil for evil! Love does not shoot at the ambulance, nor trample on the wounded, nor finish off those about to die.

Here there is a strange respect for Pilate's lethargy, for Herod's dithering, for the difference of policy among the high priests and the fruitless games of the doctors of the Law. It is their own business if they take themselves seriously! Pardon has been gratuitously offered, in a lump sum, so to speak, and without publicity; let he who can, understand that! Let the one who so wishes, receive by silent contagion! "I say to you, love your enemies!" At least let them have the world they have chosen! Their lives pursue their own course, ours also, but on another register. A Cross has radically pointed us elsewhere. In the Fathers' creation, there is plenty of space and varied rhythms. No one is obliged to live in an open tomb!

What a masterly lesson in being other, accepting difference and even discord! How could God create, without appreciating what is different, call up from what is not God a liberty which can go off the rails and inevitably does! Creation is not a monotonous thing sung to one note; listen to the birds' cacophony, to choral singing, to harmonised melodies: there is a place for everyone, for the deaf, the blind and even for atheists.

God waits with infinite patience and a burning passion, and for centuries! for centuries and centuries! He waits until the world is ready, till life comes into being and conscience is awakened, and one begins to speak and to share, to forgive and become creators, re creators, gods even, like Him, with Him and in Him, in truth!

Easter night is the first night of a new creation, the beginning of a new evolution, of a new change into humanity community! Since then, morning gleams with rays of that light shining in the garden of the new world. Along the road of those disappointed in their hopes, those whom love has wounded or religion betrayed, we are sent to join discretely in their conversations. The Risen Lord awaits us there. It is there that He passes by, unperceived but very active, as did Jesus incognito throughout His lifetime. After a while, we recognise Him, by His way of setting fire to our hearts as we read the Scriptures, or when He is standing on the seashore or discretely sharing a meal with us in a restaurant.

This is characteristic of His own special style: to open a person's eyes in a gaze of wonder, only to meet that gaze by accident in the heart of the countryside, where He will ask questions, questions that go far beyond human understanding. His own particular mannerism, this way of opening hearts and ears, of restoring life to withered hands, even of opening tombs! It is indeed His style, to make the cripples walk, to raise up heads bent with the weight of blame, to set ringing those bells that the "music" of official language has silenced: "You're completely deaf! Call in the specialists! Common mortals have no vote in Chapter! Deaf-mute, you can stay put! 'Better get used to it!"

Jesus encourages the craziest of desires. To the one who says "thank you" He replies: "Your faith has made you whole" It is truly His unique style to live in an open tomb between whited sepulchres!

It is because he lived this way that they killed him.... It is because He already lived a completely sacrificed life, the tomb wide open, that the Gospel recounts the story of His life, so that it can speak to us about Him today, yes, about Him who rose from the dead.

But where exactly is He? When the surprise has died down somewhat, and they recognise Jesus, they wish to seize hold of Him, to throw their arms around Him and embrace Him, Latin American style, but He has already vanished. He is too alive! Exhilarating and frustrating at the same time! It certainly costs Him not to yield, but not for Him the easy way out, He wants even better things for them. Impossible to lay their hands on Him or even to stop Him! He waits for us further afield, when we are more adult, solid and mature: fully conscious down there in Galilee, crossroad of natures and cultures, in full globalisation.