The cry of the risen
Χριστὸς Ἀνέστη, καὶ φῶς ἐξῆλθεν ἐκ τάφου,
νέκρος γέγονε θάνατος, οὐκέτι σκιὰ.
Ἄνθεσι γῆ στεφανοῦται, πτηνὰ ἀείδουσι,
ψυχαὶ δ’ ἐγείρονται φέρουσαι ἐλπίδα
Ζῇ τὸ φῶς, ζῇ ἡ ἀλήθεια ἐν καρδίαις,
νῦν καὶ ἀεί, εἰς τοὺς αἰῶνας τῶν αἰώνων
Christ is risen, and light has come out of the tomb,
death has become dead, there is no more shadow.
The earth is crowned with flowers, the birds sing,
and souls awaken bringing hope.
Light lives, truth lives in hearts,
now and ever, for ever and ever.
If you do not resurrect you end at the first death
a civilisation without resurrection ends at the first death
the West has lasted for more than two thousand years in an extraordinary cycle of death and resurrection
there is a word that sums it all up
this word is almost forbidden in the West today
Christ
and even more forbidden is what precedes it
Jesus
history and mystery intertwine in a name
a name that promises salvation
in our memory overlap countless generations that have whispered
said, shouted, painted, set to music
‘Christ is risen!’
we survive the passing of time with the force of a cry
the cry of the risen
to rise again is the most natural act there is
Phoenicians, Osiris, Dionyses, Adonis, Persephone, mornings, springs
we don’t even notice it and every twenty-four hours night resurrects into day
winter into spring
sadness into joy
our body walks through time in a straight line, our soul in a circle
no reincarnation, pure eternity
life in timelessness
time, the frame of death
the resurrected cry of an eternal echo
you can rise
you can cry out
the contemporary is death that does not kill
the postcontemporary is resurrection
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