Dear Friends,

Among the more graced moments of my life was the privilege of celebrating the Eucharist in the Holy Sepulcher, the tomb of Jesus. Today, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher stands over the site where the Lord was crucified and the empty tomb from which He rose from the dead.

As I began Mass, I was alone in the slightly claustrophobic burial chamber with a priest-friend who was assisting me. The altar was the holy bed itself, a rich slab of marble covering the original rock on which the body of Jesus was lain. As we approached the reading of the Gospel, we intoned the “Alleluia”. Suddenly, a Franciscan friar, one of the custodians of the Holy Land, came running into the tomb. “No, no!”, he said in broken English. “No singing!”. His interruption of Mass startled us as did his reprimand. How could one not sing, not break into joyful praise, at this place where Christ accomplished the salvation of the world! But I understood why he scolded us. There are strict rules at the Holy Sepulcher which keep the peace between the Orthodox and Catholics who are jealous of their rights in this place. And so, if singing was going to be a point of contention, then so be it. We would refrain from singing. We continued Mass, our “alleluias” silenced by a well-intentioned brother priest. 

It seems to me that there are many things which want to silence the “Alleluia!” in us. Certainly, the times we’re living in now is one of them. The thieves of hope, joy, and gratitude however, are many. Like Peter and the apostles on the Sea of Galilee, we see a tempest around us, the roar of the wind and the waves that threaten to overwhelm us. Faith, hope and love can be overwhelmed in a storm of fear and doubt and, like Peter, we sense in ourselves that we are beginning to sink.

But there is one who stands on the sea, who with a word brings calm to the storm for He is Lord of the Storm. There is One who is greater than any fear we may have, whose mercy is greater than any sin we have committed or regret we may feel, whose love has overcome every sorrow weighing us down today, even that of death itself.

My friends, there is an ancient tomb in Jerusalem whose occupant is no longer there! Everything is now different!

That is why we will sing our Alleluia today, tomorrow, and every day of our lives though we may be singing it tossed in a boat on an uncertain sea. We see the Lord of the Storm, The Risen One, who draws close to us, as he did to Mary of Magdala that first Easter morning, calling each of us by name and gently assuring us, “Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid!” (Mt. 14:27)

Happy Easter!

Servus,

Msgr. Joseph G. Celano

Pastor and Director of Schools