Christ Resurrected! -Bp. Mikhail (Semyonov)
Bishop Mikhail (Semyonov)
For seven weeks we fast and mourn, awaiting the great joy—the coming of the Risen Lord. And now the Radiant Bridal Chamber has opened before us. Are we not, even now, in the golden halls of the Lord? What joy surrounds us! Are not the angelic choirs singing the triumphant hymn together with us?
“Christ Resurrected from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!”
The church burns with brilliant lights, and the heart burns with brilliant joy.
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
Christ Resurrected—and He is with us, as Conqueror!
The triumphant hymn of St. John of Damascus resounds: “This is the chosen and holy Pascha… the Pascha of Christ the Redeemer…”
The snares of the devil are broken, and he is cast down into the abyss, crushed beneath the victorious foot of the One born of the Virgin.
And we rejoice! How can we not rejoice, not “divinely exult” in these days?
We, who were far from God and doomed to death, have been “redeemed with a great price” and raised up to eternal resurrection.
Holy joy—this is the Spirit of the Risen Life-Giver dwelling within us, making us partakers of His own joy. By His power He has torn us from the dim routine of sin and vanity and lifted us to heaven, to those heights where He dwells with His angels.
Yes, we must rejoice like children—with bright, overwhelming joy. Only let our joy not be fruitless or fleeting. Let it bear blossom and fruit. The Holy Church shows us the fruits of this joy: “Let us embrace one another. Let us forgive all things by the Resurrection.”
Let us not leave our joy in the church—let us carry it with us into our homes. Let us keep it into tomorrow. Today, in our joy, we have touched heaven. The angels have brought us the fragrance of paradise. Let us preserve that fragrance. Let us keep today’s love for Christ alive—if not forever, then at least for a long time.
Yesterday we may have had enemies. Today, there must be no enemies—only brothers and friends.
How can we defile the purity and light of Paschal joy with the darkness of hatred and enmity? In the feast of the Resurrection, there is no place for Judas. Anyone who bears malice in his heart toward his brother is a Judas, betraying Christ.
In the Paschal kiss, let us forget every offense and every wrong done against us. Let there be complete forgiveness and mercy.
Those who are filled with joy love to share their joy—and in the sharing, joy is only multiplied. In ancient times, kings opened the prisons on holy Pascha. Ordinary people forgave debts, spread alms and comfort and joy everywhere. Even if the almshouses were empty and there were no beggars on the streets during Maslenitsa, on the day of the Resurrection gifts from the Risen Christ were carried into every poor hut, that every corner might be filled with light.
Let us likewise multiply our joy through deeds of love and mercy. How many people, in these days, are waiting for someone who, in the name of the Risen One, will bring a little light into their dark and hungry days in a cold and lonely room.
The Risen Christ desires that we go to them. Having received so much from Him—illumined by the rays of His Resurrection—we must, in these days, wipe away every tear and bring smiles to the sorrowful. With the greeting “Christ Resurrected!”, we should bring the offended a plea for forgiveness, to those who have offended us—peace, to the grieving—love and help, and to Christ—a joyful and radiant soul.
There is a certain remarkable book titled When Darkness Came. Its content is fictional, but it is a wise and instructive fiction. The story goes like this:
The enemies of Christ, seeking to destroy Christianity, decided to eliminate belief in the Resurrection of Christ. To achieve this, they “discovered”—or rather forged—a new tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, bearing the inscription: “I, Joseph of Arimathea, secretly moved the body of Jesus from the first tomb to this one, and laid it here…”
This “discovery,” skillfully fabricated and authenticated by renowned scholars, was believed. And when this happened—“darkness came.” Everything collapsed at once.
The world became a savage brawl of jackals. All restraints fell away. Debauchery spread like a flood. Brother rose against brother. Sons showed no mercy to fathers or mothers. One nation destroyed another. Darkness came over all. Hatred and war reigned. The torch of conscience was extinguished. “What need is there for goodness or love, if Christ is not?” people said. “He is not—and He shall not rise again. Then there is no God.” And the world became hell.
The forgery was exposed—but even that brief experience showed what would happen if mankind were forever deprived of the Risen Christ. The world would perish because its sun had gone out. And worse still: people would destroy themselves, if faith in the Resurrection were abolished. If we did not believe in the Risen Christ, it would be impossible to live.
There would be no reason to live! Why drag along this hollow column called life, if it all ends in death anyway—and life is only, as Dostoevsky wrote, “the devil’s mockery,” “a vaudeville staged by demons?” Then it would be impossible—even absurd—to bear the pain and burden of this life.
If the holy and long-suffering Job does not murmur, “does not speak foolishly against God,” it is only because he believes in the Resurrection: “I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.”
The Resurrection of Christ is the guarantee that righteousness is unconquerable, that suffering is not in vain, that the seed of goodness in man is also the seed of resurrection unto eternal life.
He is risen—and this means that suffering and sorrow no longer reign over man. And what is suffering, if God is with me? I do not fear suffering now, even though it be without end. Once I feared it—now I do not. And it seems, now, I have such strength in me that I can overcome all things—all sufferings—so long as I can say, and say to myself moment by moment: I exist! Amid a thousand torments—I exist. Writhing under torture—I exist. I sit in a pillar of flame, yet I live, for I am not alone. Even from the earth I know there is a Sun—there is Christ, and the joy that is His! (as Dmitry Karamazov says in Dostoevsky’s novel).
He is risen—and this means that those who seek truth can be confident that truth shall prevail, and evil shall not triumph. Christ shall reign in this world and “shall judge the earth.” Truth will emerge from hiding, just as the hymn of the Resurrection once emerged from the catacombs, and it will burst forth like a sunbeam under the dark arches of the Rogozhsky Cathedral (April 17, 1906).
He is risen—and this means that always near us is the great Helper, ready to support us in every good deed, in the struggle against sin, evil, falsehood, and sorrow.
But we must be found worthy of the radiant feast. The early Christians, having received the message of the Resurrection, “passed it like a torch from one to another—and from the fire of that message, they themselves were set ablaze.” They caught fire from one another. And how brightly they burned! That fire, from the gardens of Nero—where martyrs burned in the name of the Risen One—and from the deserts, where they glowed with the light of Mount Tabor during prayer, has illumined the whole world. They lived so that the pagans said: “There is a special seal upon these people. You can recognize them at once—they are disciples of the Crucified.” That is, disciples of the Risen One. The seal of faith upon them was their love, their peacemaking, and their purity. And seeing their light, the pagans were drawn to the Light that never fades—Christ. Even unbelievers like Strauss and Renan admitted that Christians attracted others by the brightness of their lives, which sprang from the joy of faith in the Resurrection.
But what about our lives? Do they always proclaim our faith in the Risen One? Has this faith been imprinted upon all our actions? Does it make us radiant in a dark world, and do our deeds shine before others, that they may glorify our Father who is in heaven?
“I do not believe in the Resurrection,” said one unbeliever, “because I do not see the light of faith in those who profess to believe. I do not see them ascending toward heaven. I do not see that truth and love reign among them.”
Alas—we can only bow our heads and admit: yes, we are guilty. Christian life has grown weak, and in our deeds there is no triumphant witness of the Risen One. We do not sow Christ’s light around us—in daily life, in our homes, in our relationships with others.
The Risen Lord gave us the commandment to illumine the earth with the truth of our deeds—to bring into the life of this world the holy truth.
…Christ Resurrected—He has left the realm of corruption! Let us also joyfully cast off our chains! He is near to all who praise Him, to all who prove their love through action, to all who share their bread with others in brotherly love, to all who proclaim Him and announce the coming days of blessedness!
To all of you—He is already here!