The Lord of Life
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away;
for lo, the winter is past,
the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove
is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away.
O my dove, in the clefts of the rock,
in the covert of the cliff,
let me see your face,
let me hear your voice,
for your voice is sweet,
and your face is comely.
(Song of Songs 2:10-14)
The Heavenly Bridegroom is calling upon His Bride, the Church; but she’s not answering his call, for she's being held captive in her tower by the vile corruption.
And she can't escape her captivity, even though the warm Galilea is blossoming in balmy spring.
The Bridegroom is calling upon His Bride now also; and our humble spring is even sweeter.
The snow melted, and bubbly springs are overflowing. Dense branches have grown heavy; the buds are about to burst, full of resin. A rook is calling from his birch. Golden dandelions are popping up from the luscious soil.
All creation is waking up from slumber. The jet-black soil is stretching, still half-asleep; the azure is blushing whilst smiling to the sun. Radiant clouds are slowly drifting across the sky-blue lake in a flock of white swans.
It might be just for a bit, but people are more pure in soul, for everyone's looking forward to May. Look at all the cheerful faces; it's almost as if there's never been any strife between men.
Yet why is nature rejoicing, and why are we? As if the sky won't grow dim again, and its stunning turquoise won't be covered by somber, sullen clouds?
As if the earth's nourishing depths won't yet again succumb to drought? As if the autumn wind won't come back howling and tear down the trees' dejected crimson robes?
As if the gold of dying leaves won't come to cover every road again?
The soil rejoices, but the merciless frost will soon freeze it to its very core. Lifeless white shroud will cover its cold bosom. It somehow feels like death and corruption are ever lurking behind the soothing beauty of nature.
We are celebrating spring and life. Yet has the mother who's mourning her murdered son found any consolation? Has the bride forgotten her beloved, has the friend forgotten his friend? No, the bride is still like a feeble candle that is slowly going out; the friend is still consumed by inconsolable grief; and the mother is ever writhing in despair upon the cross on her son's grave, her sorrow having turned her hair grey.
All creation is languishing, chained by corruption; the Bride of Christ is still locked in her tower...
What are we rejoicing for, then?
The splendour of nature has not defeated Death; it was only supporting her reign and adorning her with beautiful garments.
The grandeur of spirit has not defeated Death, even though the spirit, being immortal, evaded her in places she couldn't enter. When it seemed it was pointless to struggle, Love Herself entered the kingdom of Death, and Death forever lost her sting.
Her claws slid off the most pure Body; she couldn't hold the Righteous captive.
And Christ defeated Hell, and He gave His Bride the promise of life eternal, for He Himself rose from the dead.
The Good Shepherd came and banished the merciless Death, sacrificing Himself for His sheep.
God revealed Himself and let the temporal touch the infinite, for He Himself came down to assume a frail human body.
The flesh was deified and shined with everlasting beauty in Christ's Body. The universe trembled in inexplicable awe.
All creation is singing; yet it's celebrating not the passing glory, but the never-ending splendour to come.
Heaven and Earth are rejoicing blissfully in expecting spring eternal.
Look, all of nature is adorned with emerald green; it's now glowing with His grace. It received all of its treasure from Christ and is now coming forth to meet Him, carrying it all back to Him.
Beauty is no longer in vain, for all creation has gained life eternal. Love is no longer in vain, for one's beloved will not perish forever. Our faith and good works are no longer in vain, for Christ has risen from the dead.
There’s just one truth: Christ has risen from the dead. There’s just one thing that should be enough for all: Christ has risen from the dead.
Had the God-Man not risen from the dead, the whole world would have turned into meaningless discord; Pilate would have been proven right for scoffing, 'What is truth?'.
Had the God-Man not risen from the dead, all the most precious would be withering away forever, and beauty would be perishing for all eternity.
Had the God-Man not risen, the bridge between Heaven and Earth would have broken down irreparably. We would have been thus left without either, for we wouldn't have known Heaven and wouldn't have been able to preserve Earth from destruction.
Yet He has risen, and shame has fallen upon Pilate and Caiaphas.
All-devouring Death was devoured by deathlessness. Truth prevailed over falsity. The fever of sin was soothed by humility.
It is in vain that those who love are grieving; it is in vain that the mother's heart is twisting with sorrow. For Christ has risen, and Death's final attacks are also in vain.
All creation is trembling in pure blissful joy, for Christ has risen and is calling upon His Bride:
'Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!'
The Bride is still in captivity, but rust is slowly eating away at her chains; the greatest mystery of liberation is unfolding. A seed of life is growing beneath the husk, the bosoms of creation are renewed and the core of the earth is purified. The Spirit and the Bride say to the Lamb, 'Come'.
The Bridegroom is now close; here He is, looking through the bars; here He is, pounding at the door. The Bride can't yet open it, but it's slowly succumbing to the Bridegroom's blows.
The image of the Bride of the Lamb, the Heavenly Jerusalem, is already graven on the palms of God's hands.
It's shining and glowing; bright as gold, pure as crystal. Adorned, it's ready to come down to Earth.
The doors of the tower where the Bride is languishing shall break down, and wounded Death shall forever perish.
The Heavenly Jerusalem will then descend into the lower parts of the earth. The One on the throne will say:
'Behold, I make all things new'. All chaff will then fall away from creation, and the image of decay will perish in front of His Holy Face, like hazy fog dissipates in the gaze of the rising sun.
All that is dead and all that is false shall pass; it'll be carried away by the flush springs of living water, and all creation will finally be freed from corruption.
The earth shall give up those who are asleep in it, and the dust those who rest there in silence.
Like an egg cracks to reveal a baby bird, like a cocoon hatches into a butterfly, the rough crust of the earth shall fall away, 'and the bride shall appear, and she coming forth shall be seen, that now is withdrawn from the earth'.
Glorified and glowing with pristine beauty, the Bride will come forth to meet the Lamb.
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.
Our renewed bodies will be transformed, glowing with grace. Those who loved will meet again, changed in Christ; they'll embrace each other after many years apart, stretching after having spent so much time in narrow graves.
They won't get enough of looking into each other's eyes, shaking hands with childish smiles without saying a word.
They will be in communion with our Lord Jesus Christ. 'Though you have not seen him, you love him'; and we are rejoicing as we are expecting Him.
There will be nothing unclean left on this great feast of the Resurrection of the Beloved, on this great feast of Easter; but there will be God in everyone and everything.
Come, Lord Jesus!
Amen.
