So with us Christians: words fail us when we regard the Sun, Christ our true morning-sun, rise out of the darkness of the grave, and shine strong and bright and warm over the cold Good Friday. “Alleluia” we sing, as we wait the warmth of this Sun in those valleys of our life where Good Friday still lingers.
Is it not wonderful to think that this Easter cry has rung out in the Church through the ups and downs of two thousand years, and that it will be with us until the Alleluia praise resounds in heaven? Is it not the very foundation of our faith that, for us, as for Christ, Good Friday, is not the end but the place for passing through? “Pasch”, the old name for Easter, means precisely that: “Passover”. All our life is but a passing through to that City in whose streets “Alleluias” is forever sung. So – all through the Easter Season of 2012, which lasts for 7 weeks, let us sing: “May the Lord be praised” – he will lead us along the way which he himself has gone as Victor through death to Life.