Christ did not rise from the dead to roam the cosmos. He rose from the dead to enter each human heart, to dwell there as a love that never dies, never diminishes.

Christ has carried our humanity into God. This means that we matter, that what happens to the least of us matters.

The finale of “Game of Thrones” is rather profound—and rooted in the Gospel.

Overwhelmed in the present, we have lost all feel for the future. So let’s say this of eternal life: It is where waiting comes to an end.

When we do wrong, our Lord can be as relentless as any mother.

In the resurrection accounts, we are being taught that Christ is present in every celebration of the Eucharist. Christ gathers all of time into himself.

Holy Communion is the Lord’s way of saying that we need never be apart from him in our lives. He will always be there for us. As Pooh puts it, “If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.”

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.

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.