Notre Dame and the Empty Tomb: dark, dusty, emptied of their precious contents

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Five days ago, the impossible happened.

The Cathedral of Notre Dame, located in the very heart of Paris, was engulfed in flames.

In less than an hour, 800 years worth of culture, history, and religious art was lost.

No one thought this architectural masterpiece, this fruit of Catholic devotion, would ever resemble a tomb – dark, dusty, emptied of its precious contents.

But there it was.

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That crushing image of Notre Dame engulfed in flames represents, in many ways, the state of our Church today.

We’ve been set ablaze – ablaze in scandal and indifference.

We’ve lost more than artwork; we’ve lost trust, and worse, disciples.

But just as Paris has pledged to restore Notre Dame to its original splendor, so we are invited this night to begin rebuilding the universal Church.

Doing so demands getting in touch with our original mission – the salvation of souls.

That mission began at the empty tomb.

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That first Easter Sunday, our Lord’s tomb looked just like Notre Dame does tonight – dark, dusty, emptied of its precious contents.

Only this was good news.

To the utter surprise of Mary Magdalene, Peter, and the other disciples, Jesus was no longer there.

He had risen from the dead!

Discovering that truth changed the direction of their lives.

They were no longer afraid; they were consumed with zeal, eager to share this good news of salvation with the world.

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So must we.

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As a Church, we’re called to embrace a “resurrection faith,” a faith that’s joyful and Gospel-driven, a faith that never gives up.

A resurrection faith changes people; it inspires them to take risks, to preach to the ends of the earth, to work for something greater than themselves.

It’s the same type of faith that drove generations of architects, sculptors, artists, and artisans to create the masterpiece of Notre Dame.

If you think about it, most of the people who worked on constructing that church never saw its completion.

Yet they dedicated their whole lives to working on it.

And when they could no longer lift another stone or brush, they handed on their work to the next generation, trusting that they would work just as hard with an equal sense of devotion.

They believed, in some small way, their labor brought glory to God.

***

Can’t we see something of a bigger analogy here?

Our Christian faith began with Jesus, his twelve Apostles, and a small group of women who followed him faithfully.

After his resurrection, Jesus entrusted his mission to them. And he hoped that, when they could no longer travel or preach, the next generation would continue the good work they’d begun.

We are that next generation.

We are called to share the good news of Christ’s resurrection – and therefore the hope of our own – no less than the original Twelve, trusting that our efforts will contribute in some small way to God’s salvific plan.

Are we committed that mission?

Or does our own faith in Jesus and his Church need to be restored tonight?

Wherever we stand on our journey of faith, the message is clear: we must stand together.

***

The story of Notre Dame reminds us that the most valuable thing in our world – that which is truly irreplaceable – is not some work of art.

It’s the faith that built it.

It’s that same faith handed down generation after generation that can rebuild our Church.

On this Easter night, may the Risen Lord come to our aid and strengthen us – not only to restore physical buildings – but also to restore our very selves.

For we are living stones– we are the Church, the Body of Christ on earth.