In the radiance of the Resurrection, the Church relates to the emotions of the first witnesses: grief, fear, bewilderment and then exultation. In each generation, believers experience all of these in various ways. On Good Friday our local custom is to meditate on the Seven Last Words, using meditations written by Bl. John Henry Newman. Because the reflections he wrote in the 19th century are so apposite to the history of the Church's trials and triumphs, listeners often think they were written just yesterday. The same is true of the Paschal Sequence: "Death and Life have contended / In that combat stupendous."
On Good Friday a faithful young priest I knew when he was a boy died after a long illness, and at the same time, a girl was born to one of our families. Early on Easter morning one of our Sri Lankan worshipers told me of the massacre in Colombo. It is estimated that around our world a Christian is martyred every five minutes in odium fidei by those who hate Christ. During the cathedral fire in Paris, the rescue of the Blessed Sacrament (which the frail ecclesiology of The New York Times called "a statue of Jesus") was a triumph of life over death.
The High Priests and Pharisees told the Roman governor Pontius Pilate that Jesus had said that He would rise from the dead. They certainly did not believe that, but it made them edgy enough that they asked permission to seal the Tomb. The Living Word, however, always has the last word. Recall the admonition of one of Hannibal's soldiers after his victory at the battle of Cannae, when he hesitated to march on to Rome: Vincere scis, victoria uti nescis. "You know how to win but you do not know what to do with the victory." May the Victorious Christ never have to say that about us.