Breaking Out for Easter

Easter Sunday

Link to Readings:
Easter Vigil (Saturday Evening)
Easter Sunday

Every morning after mass, my dog, Maggie, is waiting for me to do our routine: we take a short drive to pick up the mail and run errands, and then we go for a walk to the pond and around the high school field. It didn’t take long for Maggie to learn this daily drill and look forward to it.

We human beings also learn a lot of things. When we were small, we learned to cry for Mom when we were hungry or needed changing. We learned by trial-and-error whether whining and foot-stomping would get us what we wanted—or whether it earned us a swift crack on the bottom. And as we grew and went through life, we learned many other ways to act and react based on our experiences and how things turned out.

I hate to say it, but that kind of learning really isn’t all that different from Maggie’s!

Of course, humans are capable of a higher, loftier kind of learning, too. That’s in part what it means when we say that we’re made in the image and likeness of God. Unlike dogs, we can appreciate beauty: a magnificent sunset… a dramatic painting… a clever joke… the lyrics of a great song…

And unlike dogs, we can make good choices because we can understand deeper, subtler meanings and see beyond the immediate: we agree to have root canals… we hopefully don’t eat an entire chocolate cake in one sitting… we go to work instead of just deciding to go fishing when we wake up to a warm spring day…

But despite how clever we are as a human race, many, many, many times, our higher intellectual abilities give way to our baser instincts. It’s almost as if we slip into a primitive kind of auto-pilot.

One of the reasons that TV sitcoms are so popular is because we get to watch other people promise themselves that they’re going to do the right and well-thought-out thing… and then at the moment of truth, they blow it completely—just like we do so often! Maybe our lives aren’t quite so funny because we don’t have professional gag-writers to come up with our lines. But clearly, our day-to-day mistakes and mishaps could fill volumes.

How come? Why do we keep slipping back into the same terrible patterns? Well, it’s actually a form of self-protection. Our experiences mold us and reinforce so many attitudes and behaviors that they become second-nature. That’s why some people are shy, or afraid to try new foods, or convinced they’re going to fail, or have simply given up.

Like a powerful addiction, these beliefs and attitudes and feelings have a stranglehold on our lives. In the silence of our own hearts, we may wish things could be otherwise, but it’s almost impossible to break out of the chains that have bound us for a lifetime.

Enter Jesus Christ.

Today is Easter. On Friday, Jesus was nailed to a cross, died on it, and was buried in a real grave. End of the story.

Well, not quite. Today, he’s really and truly alive again. Just as he said repeatedly during his ministry. Resurrected. Once he was dead, and now he’s alive again.

But wait! There’s more!

Jesus said that he did this for us—you and me and all other human beings, past, present and future—to make things right between us and God. He said that we share in his resurrection. We will live forever. He said that whatever it is that makes our hearts pound and soar, all we need to do is ask… seek… knock… and God will take care of us. He said that we’re family! If we have faith and seek to do God’s will, we’re his mother, brother, sister. He said that his love for us is everlasting and that nothing can separate us from that love. And he said tons of other things just like that.

How many times have we heard this message? And how do we respond? We may say, “Wow!” But within a very short time, when our auto-pilot takes back over, we sadly shake our heads and say, “Nah….”

To me, the only sad part of Easter is that we’re too afraid, or too conditioned, to believe it and embrace it.

Years ago, we had another dog by the name of Charlie. He was a stray who wandered in one day and since we couldn’t find his owners, we let him move in permanently. Charlie was petrified of thunderstorms. As best as we can figure, he must have been caught out in one when he was on the lam. Well, whenever a storm came up, Charlie would run around, hyperventilate, get a crazed look in his eyes, making a raspy panting sound, and be totally inconsolable. One time, we tried to lock him in a bathroom where he couldn’t see or hear anything; in his panic, he clawed his way through the door. We never could get him over his phobia. All we could do was give him a tranquilizer.

That’s us, folks. Maybe we’re blessed with fleeting “God moments” here and there, but for the most part, we cling to our animal-level fears and impediments. Ask yourself: am I living the life I could if I really believed that the truth would set me free? Am I living the life of one blessed and beloved to the Lord?

So it’s Easter. It’s a wonderful reminder that we have another chance to conquer ourselves and live as children of God. There’s so very much that Christ wants to give us. And the beautiful thing is, we don’t have to do it on our own. Here and now, just lift your heart to our resurrected Lord who is waiting for your call. Leave it in his loving hands.

A blessed Easter to you all.