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Our Thanksgiving Day
Jesus, one of the things I'm thankful for is the Scriptures and my Catholic heritage, which is firmly anchored in faith and set solidly in a concrete foundation.
The apostles and disciples and holy women did not have that unshakable anchor to bolster their sense of loss when you, Jesus, were laid in the tomb — dead. All their hopes for the future lay in that tomb with you. What heavy hearts they must have had. "He is dead," they must have mourned.
A great wailing, such as was at the time of Herod's slaughter of the infant sons of the Israelite mothers, arose again in the Holy Land. "Our Master is dead, they crucified him, they cried. Oh Yahweh, what now? Where do we go from here?" For three days they sighed and wept and wondered, but in the early morning of that third day ... What is this?
Over yonder at the tomb where they laid Him ... Something is happening!
A great light is erupting!
With a rumble and a roar the great stone rolls away, while forth from out of the tomb in resplendent glory steps the Master, smiling, His eyes bright and alert.
Out He strides into the newborn day, into the freshness of springtime, which is awakened and budding. All the earth flexes it's muscles and breathes down deep of the fragrant aliveness of the earth — nature tuning in on the resurrection theme of hope, faith and love; like the new-born leaves, so tiny and crisp, that are unfolding to the sunlight and are refreshed by the spring rains. The leaves reach out like baby's hands to clutch at the promise that is embodied in a fact and a reality. He "IS" no longer dead.
He has gone before us into Galilee — into our Galilees. And there we will find Him, as did His close followers that first Easter morning. Now we are His close followers. Now we rejoice. We sing, our hearts full of joy.
Our Lord has risen, Alleluia … Alleluia!
And that, my Lord, is my primary reason for thanks this beautiful day — Our Thanksgiving Day.