My sisters and brother in the Risen Christ, this is the day the Lord has made—let us rejoice and be glad!

Welcome to the Cathedral of St. Paul this Easter morning! How blessed we are to hear this Good News that Christ is Risen from the dead! I join Father Jerabek, Father Jacob, the clergy and staff of the Diocese of Birmingham and the Cathedral of St. Paul, in wishing you and your families a happy and joyous Easter!

On this Easter morning, we stand with Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb as recounted by the Gospel of John. We run with Peter the Apostle and John the Apostle into that bewildering, radiant mystery: the stone rolled away, the burial cloths left behind, death itself undone. The Gospel tells us that John “saw and believed.” Yet even then, they did not fully understand. Easter begins not with certainty, but with astonishment. It is an encounter that changes everything, and that encounter is not only theirs. It is ours.

Last night, in this very Cathedral, 18 catechumens stood at the threshold here, professed their faith, and entered the waters of Baptism. Each came with a story, some long and searching, some marked by struggle, some by quiet longing, and some with bold determination in spite of what others would say. And yet, all were drawn by the same light: the light of the Risen Christ. In them, we saw again what happened to us. Easter is not simply something we remember—it is something we are living. The Resurrection is not only about what happened to Jesus. It is about what is happening now to us, to the Church, to the world.

In the Acts of the Apostles, Peter the Apostle proclaims that Jesus “went about doing good,” was crucified, and “on the third day was raised by God.” But notice—Peter does not speak as one repeating a lesson. He speaks as a witness. Easter turns frightened disciples into bold proclaimers. Something happened that could not be contained. They had to tell others about the most remarkable thing they had ever encountered in their life. A man who was dead came back to life! And what happened? No one can provide an adequate explanation of the technicalities involved, but its meaning is clear. Death did not have the last word. Sin did not have the last word. Fear does not have the last word.

As Pope Benedict XVI indicates in his writings in so many words: “The Resurrection is not merely a past event…. It contains a power that has penetrated this world.” (Ratzinger, Easter Vigil 2005, passim) The tomb is empty, but the world is full; full of His presence, full of His grace; full of His life breaking in where we least expect it.

And where do we most need that today? We look around and see a world still marked by darkness and shadows: wars that seem endless, families strained and divided, anxieties about the future, migrants looking for a new opportunity for their families, food deserts that leave many in want, and a quiet but real fear that things are not as they should be. Some here this morning are carrying heavy burdens: grief, loneliness, uncertainty, addictions, disappointment, even doubt. 

And so, the question of Easter is not just, “What happened to Jesus?” The question is, “Where is He now?” We want to see Him, too! We might be tempted, like Mary Magdalene, to look for Him among the dead; in what is lost, in what is broken, in what we fear cannot change. But the message of Easter is clear: “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” He is not there. He is here. And those who have met Him have had their lives transformed. 

He is present in His Word proclaimed. He is present in the Eucharist we celebrate. He is present in the newly baptized, shining with grace. He is present in the quiet courage of those who keep going, even when life is hard. He is present wherever love overcomes hatred, wherever forgiveness breaks through resentment, wherever hope rises again after despair. This is not time to wring our hands, thinking that a future of hope is impossible. Each person who follows and lives the light of Christ in their life, begins to change the world – one at a time. So, the question can be asked: “Is it possible to live this new way?” Looking back through the history of the saints and other Christians, we can respond: “Absolutely!” Living a new way changes everything. It is a way of living in a world that still bears the wounds of Good Friday but now shines with the light of Easter morning.

And so, dear friends, Easter is a beginning. St. Paul tells us today: “Clear out the old yeast of malice and wickedness … so that you may become a fresh batch of sincerity and truth.” In other words, live differently. The Resurrection is not only something to celebrate, it is something to become.

To those who were baptized last night, you have been plunged into the death and resurrection of Christ. You are a new creation, but this is not only your story, it is ours. Each of us is called to live our Baptism more deeply, more intentionally, more joyfully.

Perhaps this Easter, that means letting go of something that has held us back—a resentment, a fear, a sin we have carried too long. Perhaps it means trusting again, daring to believe that God is still at work, even in places that seem empty, like a tomb. Perhaps it means becoming witnesses, like Peter, who do not just speak about Christ. Christ is revealed by the way we live, with charity, with courage, with hope.

Because the world does not need more arguments about Christianity. It needs witnesses to the Resurrection. It needs men and women whose lives proclaim, “Christ is alive.”

Brothers and sisters, the stone has been rolled away, not only from the tomb, but from our hardened hearts. The power of sin is broken. The grip of death is shattered. A new creation, a new life, has begun.

And so today, we rejoice. We rejoice with those newly baptized. We rejoice with the Apostles who saw and believed. We rejoice even in the midst of a broken world because Christ is risen.

And if Christ is risen, then nothing, truly nothing is beyond hope. That is why this is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad! Alleluia! Alleluia!