The liturgies of Lent and Easter, like the churches themselves, are built upon the conviction that the resurrection changes everything.

Jesus understands not only our bodily suffering, but also our spiritual suffering, in these feelings of abandonment. He was like us in all things, except sin. And he experienced all that we did.

The church has a single focus today—the death of Christ—but her Christ still lives, still suffers in her members and still feeds her with his flesh. We pause in time. Christ does not.

St. Thomas arrives at the very center of what happened at the Last Supper, of what would happen the next day on the cross and of what happens at every subsequent Eucharist. With his own hands, Christ gives himself to us.

I’m not sure about you, but my entire faith rests on Easter. As I see it, Easter changes everything.

Our senses will be deceived by the appearance of bread and wine, which is why St. Thomas Aquinas insists that we trust only one of our senses, our hearing. On Easter, we solemnly proclaim and hear, silently sounding within our hearts, the saving news of the Gospel.