Easter in the Upper Room

The first disciples did not have the gift of hindsight, as we do: “For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead” (John 20:9). Jesus said that He would rise again (Mark 9:31), but His disciples had to live through His crucifixion and those deathly quiet hours afterward without knowing what would happen next and armed with only their faith.

We can use our Gospel imagination to suppose that they were hiding in the Upper Room where they had celebrated the Last Supper. They were waiting on something. They didn’t know what would happen after Jesus died, but they must have believed that God was somehow at work. It must have been frightening, that time of isolation, fear of death, uncertainty, and waiting in the Upper Room. We too may feel like those first disciples this Easter during the Coronavirus outbreak. We’re closed into our own “upper rooms” with only our closest family with us. We’re watching and waiting, not knowing what will happen next, relying on our faith to sustain us.

“What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?…No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ~Romans 8:35-39

When St. Mary Magdalen came to see the tomb, she must have been wondering and perhaps a little afraid of what she would find. The first words she hears from both the angel and from the resurrected Christ are “do not be afraid” (Matthew 28: 5, 10). As Christians, we can be unafraid of death because we stand firm in our faith that Christ has won the victory for us. Jesus told St. John, “Do not be afraid. I am…the one who lives. Once I was dead, but now I am alive forever and ever” (Revelation 1:17-18).

May we, like the Magdalen, hear those words of comfort from our King, the One who lived and died for us. May we live this moment of watching and waiting as Christ’s hopeful disciples who firmly believe that He lives. May we proclaim with joy: “Alleluia! He has risen!”

Lord Jesus, this Easter morning will be strange indeed. We’ll be in our homes instead of our churches when we celebrate Your rising. We will receive you spiritually instead of in the Eucharist. But none of this changes the fact that You have risen. And we believe that nothing can separate us from Your love—not the deadliest disease or the strongest storm or even death itself (Romans 8:35-39).