Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord
To The Epiphany Family & Friends
Dominica Resurrectionis Domini
Resurrexit Dominus! Alleluia! The Lord is Risen! Alleluia!
(Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord, 05 April 2026)
The sabbath, which represented the completion of the first creation, has been replaced by Sunday which recalls the new creation inaugurated by the Resurrection of Christ. The Church celebrates the day of Christ’s Resurrection on the “eighth day,” Sunday, which is rightly called the Lord’s Day. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2190-2191)
Dear Brothers and Sisters of Epiphany,
The Eighth Day of New Creation-Easter does not merely commemorate an event of the past; it inaugurates a new horizon of existence. The “eighth day,” as the Catechism reminds us, is not simply the day after the Sabbath, but the day beyond time—a participation in the new creation.
In the Resurrection, history is not abolished but transformed; time is no longer a closed circle of repetition, but an open path toward fulfillment. Christ rises not to return to the old order, but to establish a new mode of being, where death no longer defines the limits of life. Thus, Sunday becomes the sacrament of hope, the weekly irruption of eternity into our fragile, passing world.
Anecdote: “The Old Woman and the Alleluia”-In a quiet parish much like ours, there lived an elderly woman who had outlived most of her family and friends. Each Sunday, she would slowly make her way into the nearly empty church, sitting always in the same pew. One Easter morning, as the priest proclaimed, “Alleluia! The Lord is Risen!”, her voice—frail yet firm—responded louder than anyone else: “He is truly risen!” After Mass, someone asked her, “How can you still say that with such conviction, when you are so alone?” She smiled gently and replied: “Because I am not alone. Everyone I have loved is now alive in Him. And if Christ is risen, then nothing I have lived has been lost.” That day, her Alleluia was not just a response—it was a testimony. In a church with empty pews, resurrection was still alive.
Resurrection: The Ontological Victory Over Death-The Resurrection is not a metaphor, nor merely a spiritual consolation; it is an ontological rupture. Death, which seemed absolute, is revealed as provisional. The stone is rolled away not only from the tomb of Christ but from the tomb of human despair.
Philosophically, it proclaims that being is stronger than nothingness; theologically, it reveals that love is stronger than death. In a world marked by suffering, illness, and decline, Easter announces that these realities do not have the final word. The risen Christ carries the wounds of the Cross, yet those wounds are transfigured—they no longer signify defeat but glory.
The Experience of Emptiness Today-Our neighborhoods, too, know a kind of Holy Saturday silence. We see it in the empty pews, in the aging faces of those who remain, in the quiet homes where loneliness lingers. Many have moved away; others are burdened by sickness; some feel forgotten, even by God. There is a subtle temptation to believe that life is slowly fading, that the best days are behind us, that faith itself is diminishing. This lived experience of absence mirrors the empty tomb—but without Easter, the emptiness becomes despair. The question that echoes in our hearts is the same posed to the women: “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”
The Light That Enters Human Darkness-Easter does not deny the darkness; it enters into it. The Resurrection is God’s answer not from afar, but from within the depths of human suffering. Christ does not rise by escaping death, but by passing through it. For the elderly who feel the weight of time, for the sick who endure daily trials, for the lonely who sit in silence—Easter proclaims: you are not abandoned. The light shines precisely where the night seems longest. Hope is not the absence of suffering; it is the presence of Christ within it. The empty tomb is not a sign of loss, but of divine fidelity.
From Isolation to Encounter-One of the most profound effects of the Resurrection is the restoration of communion. The risen Lord does not remain distant; He seeks out His disciples. He calls Mary Magdalene by name, walks with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, and enters the locked room of fear. Easter thus becomes a call to overcome isolation.
In a parish marked by loneliness and distance, the Resurrection invites us to become a community of presence. A visit to the sick, a conversation with the forgotten, a gesture of kindness—these are not small acts; they are participations in the life of the risen Christ. Where love is shared, Easter continues.
The Church Beyond Empty Pews-It is easy to measure the life of the Church by numbers—by how many fill the pews, by how vibrant the gatherings appear. Yet Easter teaches us a deeper truth: the Church is alive not because of its size, but because Christ is risen. The first Easter morning began in apparent emptiness—a tomb, a garden, a few bewildered disciples. And yet, from that small beginning, a new world was born. Our parish, too, is not defined by what is lacking, but by the presence of the Risen Lord among us. Even a small, faithful community becomes a sign of resurrection.
Hope for the Aging and the Suffering-For those advancing in age, Easter offers not merely comfort but promise. Life is not a gradual fading into nothingness; it is a journey toward fullness. The Resurrection reveals that every moment, even the most hidden and fragile, is gathered into eternity. For the sick, Easter proclaims that suffering is not meaningless; united with Christ, it becomes a participation in His redemptive love. The wounds we carry are not erased but transformed. In Christ, even weakness becomes a place where divine grace shines.
Living the Resurrection Daily-Easter is not only to be celebrated; it is to be lived. The “eighth day” extends into every day of our lives. Each act of forgiveness, each choice of love over indifference, each moment of faith in the midst of uncertainty—these are signs that the Resurrection is already at work. We are called not merely to believe in the risen Christ, but to become witnesses of His life in the world. In a neighborhood marked by fragmentation and quiet suffering, the Christian is called to be a bearer of hope, a living proclamation that death does not have the final word.
Cumulative Summary-Easter proclaims not merely a past event but a living reality that transforms human existence. In the Resurrection of Christ, the “eighth day” dawns, opening history toward new creation and eternal hope. Death, suffering, and loneliness no longer have the final word, for Christ has passed through the darkness and filled it with light.
In our present context of aging, sickness, isolation, and empty pews, the empty tomb speaks not of absence but of divine presence. The risen Lord continues to seek, accompany, and restore communion among His people. Even a small and fragile community becomes a sign of life when it lives in Him. The wounds of life are not erased but transfigured in Christ.
Every act of love and presence becomes a participation in the Resurrection. Thus, Easter calls us to become bearers of hope in a wounded world. We are, indeed, an Easter people, and Alleluia remains our enduring song.
Concluding Words: Alleluia in the Midst of Life-“Resurrexit Dominus! Alleluia!”—this is not only a liturgical acclamation; it is the truth that reshapes reality. The Lord is risen, and therefore loneliness is not ultimate, sickness is not definitive, and even death is not final. Easter invites us to see the world anew—not as a place of decline, but as a field of resurrection. Even now, in the hidden corners of our lives and our parish, new life is quietly emerging: Let us then become people of the Alleluia—not because life is easy, but because Christ is risen!
Fraternally,
Fr. John Peter Lazaar SAC, Pastor