From Today's Office

Passages from today's Divine Office among other things

Christians, to the Paschal Victim
Offer your thankful praises!
A Lamb, the sheep redeems,
Christ, who only is sinless,
Reconciles sinners to the Father.
Death and life have contended in that combat stupendous;
The Prince of Life, who died, reigns immortal.
Speak, Mary, declaring
What you saw, wayfaring.
“The tomb of Christ, who is living,
The glory of Jesus’ resurrection;
Bright angels attesting,
The shroud and napkin resting.
Yes, Christ my hope is arisen;
To Galilee he goes before you.”
Christ indeed from death is risen, our new life obtaining.
Have mercy, victor King, ever reigning!
Amen. Alleluia.

Victimae paschali laudes, the sequence for the Mass in the Ordinary Form for Easter Sunday for the Resurrection of the Lord.

That a dead man should begin to live again is not, in the world of the Bible, an entirely unique occurrence. But it is not, in any case, what the Resurrection of Jesus expresses. The meaning of the Resurrection lies, rather, in Jesus’ passage to a form of existence which has left death behind it once for all, and so has gone beyond, once for all, the limitations of this aeon in God.

—Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale (via invisibleforeigner)

(via invisibleforeigner)

That a dead man should begin to live again is not, in the world of the Bible, an entirely unique occurrence. But it is not, in any case, what the Resurrection of Jesus expresses. The meaning of the Resurrection lies, rather, in Jesus’ passage to a form of existence which has left death behind it once for all, and so has gone beyond, once for all, the limitations of this aeon in God.

—Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale (via invisibleforeigner)

(via invisibleforeigner)

From the far star points of his pinned extremities,
cold inched in—black ice and squid ink—
till the hung flesh was empty.
Lonely in that void even for pain,
he missed his splintered feet,
the human stare buried in his face.
He ached for two hands made of meat
he could reach to the end of.
In the corpse’s core, the stone fist
of his heart began to bang
on the stiff chest’s door, and breath spilled
back into that battered shape. Now it’s your limbs he comes to fill, as warm water
shatters at birth, rivering every way.

Nothing could conceal the God of the universe more completely than a half-naked man being tortured to death. And yet the Christian claim is that it is precisely here, in this self-emptying, that the very fullness of God’s inner life is revealed, for the Father is only the Father in his complete self-giving to the Son, which is returned by the Son as the Gift, which is the Holy Spirit. Therefore, the ugliness of the cross itself paradoxically is pure glory. The particularity of the cross does not limit God, but opens up the world to participate in the drama enacted on the stage of the Trinity itself.

—William T. Cavanaugh, Being Consumed (via invisibleforeigner)

(via invisibleforeigner)

Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you.

—From an ancient homily on Holy Saturday and from the Office of Readings for Holy Saturday.

I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated.

—From an ancient homily on Holy Saturday and from the Office of Readings for Holy Saturday.

Something strange is happening — there is a great silence in earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.

—From an ancient homily on Holy Saturday and from the Office of Readings for Holy Saturday.

Christ suffered for you and left you an example, to have you follow in his footsteps. He did no wrong; no deceit was found in his mouth. When he was insulted, he returned no insult. When he was made to suffer, he did not counter with threats. Instead, he delivered himself up to the One who judges justly. In his own body he brought your sins to the cross, so that all of us, dead to sin, could live in accord with God’s will. By his wounds you were healed.

—From the first letter of Peter and, for those who did not participate in the celebration of the Lord’s Passion, the reading from Vespers for Good Friday.