By Liz Wann

Darkness came with a bite of fruit. It traveled on to the murder of a brother, the stealing of a brother’s birthright, and the selling of a brother as a slave. The darkness was there when a king, a man after God’s own heart, committed adultery and murder. It’s always been there hovering over our heads, staining our hands, and nipping at our heels. It’s the shadow that follows us when we do good and bad.

It’s fitting then that the Light of the World had to experience the full breadth of darkness. The darkness of misunderstanding, of mocking, of sickness and fatigue. The darkness of manipulation, betrayal, and abuse. The darkness of abandonment and denial. And finally, “when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Mark 15:33-34). Jesus experienced a darkness we never have: the full wrath of God for the sins of the world.

As his body lay limp and lifeless, Jesus was then laid in a tomb. He experienced the darkness of the grave. The cold, the damp, closed up, shut in, and trapped in the void. Jesus can feel our pain, he can feel our darkness. He knows our sadness, our burdens, our wounds. Until we’ve walked through the depth of night, we can’t understand how glorious it is to be bathed in the white light of day.

A wind came up out of the sea,

And said, “O mists, make room for me.”

It hailed the ships, and cried, “Sail on,

Ye mariners, the night is gone.”

And hurried landward far away,

Crying, “Awake! it is the day.”

When the sun rose on that third day after Jesus’ death, it ushered in the hope of resurrection. The light of life could not stay in darkness; he vanquished it. It was like every other day, but so unlike every other day. Every sunrise gives us new hope and mercies for each day–a new start, a new beginning. The rays piercing through the horizon are a sign of victory: darkness is not permanent; the light of the sun has not left us forever. This was like the sunrise of the first Easter Sunday, and yet, it was more. The sunrise on this day was a testament of the divinity of Jesus and his power over eternal death.

It said unto the forest, “Shout!

Hang all your leafy banners out!”

It touched the wood-bird’s folded wing,

And said, “O bird, awake and sing.”

And o’er the farms, “O chanticleer,

Your clarion blow; the day is near.”

It whispered to the fields of corn,

“Bow down, and hail the coming morn.”

The physical reality of the hope in a sunrise is now a spiritual reality in the person of Jesus Christ. We know for sure that God has power over darkness. No pit is too deep, no grave too wide, no night too dark. Like David said, “If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!” (Ps.139:8b) And he continues, “If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” (Ps.139:11-12).

It shouted through the belfry-tower,

“Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour.”

It crossed the churchyard with a sigh,

And said, “Not yet! in quiet lie.”

Daybreak, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

And yet we wait. We wait to see the full revelation of these resurrection truths. Though our souls will be with him, our bodies have yet to be raised as his. But at that final daybreak, that last sunrise of hope, our bodies will escape the cold, damp darkness of earth forever and be raised to life and power. Not yet. But Christ’s resurrection tells us the sun will come back. Of this, we can be certain.

And because we can be certain, we can still sing, even in isolation, our hearts & minds can be one in prayer


Easter is different for so many of us but EASTER BY IT’S VERY NATURE IS A DIFFERENT MESSAGE that challenges you and me to be different.


I have always found it interesting who Jesus chose to be his first witnesses. Mary of Magdala as a woman had no legal standing. Under Jewish law if she witnessed a murder, her testimony would have no merit or weight in a court of law.


This is a meditation I wrote many years ago:


As a woman,

I am Invisible,

I belong to the world of



I have eyes,

But what I see, the world says: it does not matter.

But what I say, the world says: I do not wish to hear.



I came early to the tomb,

But saw a stone rolled back,

And an empty tomb.

That mirrored my broken empty heart,



I search frantically,

I question the gardener,

And from an unfamiliar face comes an Oh!!

so familiar voice I thought I would never hear again.



He calls me by name “Miriam” “Mary”

And I know, that somehow It is TRULY HIM!


I had been so scared, so afraid,

I knew HE was going to die,

But I was also afraid of what would happen next.


He had hinted at Resurrection in parables,

Of seeds planted in fertile soil,

Of bread rising with yeast,

Of sheep and goats before the Judgement Seat of the Most High.


But this was no story,

This is REAL!



Now I know,

Resurrection lets peace and joy mingle and flow.

Resurrection is the first warm rays of a morning sun

After a cold bitter winters’ night.

Resurrection is undeserved second chances.

Resurrection is not a story that promises

                        “Happy Ever After “

Resurrection is not the end but a BEGINNING.



Resurrection is not about clinging to Jesus tightly in fear.

It is about letting go fears and leaping in faith.

Resurrection is about JOY LOVE LIFE.

And ALL of these make

No sense at all



The very act of sharing

Brings new life and purpose.

Brings Resurrection to me.


I am no longer invisible,

I am no longer silent,


I will no longer ignored.


I who was invisible to many

Have been chosen


                The RISEN CHRIST

                 Visible to ALL.

In this time of coronavirus, we through acts of love and charity

Make Christ’s presence felt in the world



Fr. Aidan