Easter Vigil & Easter Sunday

Homily

Most Rev Timothy Costelloe SDB
Archbishop of Perth

Saturday 4 and Sunday 5 April, 2026
St Mary’s Cathedral, Perth

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On Good Friday morning, here in the Cathedral, the ancient tradition of the Stations of the Cross was celebrated. Together we journeyed with Jesus from the moment of His condemnation by Pontius Pilate to the placing of His dead body in the garden tomb.

As we moved, not physically but spiritually, from one Station to the next, each of the meditations offered to us began with the words “I see you, Jesus”. I see you, Jesus, crowned with thorns; I see you, Jesus, crushed by the wood; I see you Jesus wretched and barely recognisable; I see you, Jesus, stripped and innocent, nailed to the cross. It was almost as if each Station was marked by the tolling of a bell - an invitation, a call, to turn our gaze to the one who stands at the centre of our faith.

This is really what the Lenten journey of the last six weeks, and the journey of Holy Week, has all been about – what has drawn us here tonight: Catholics from all over the diocese and beyond, Christians of other traditions, and seekers who have found in themselves a desire or a curiosity to know more about the Christian faith and the one who stands at its heart.

The constant refrain from Good Friday’s stations of the Cross- I see you Jesus - reminds us that before Christian faith is about anything else, and underpinning everything that Christianity seeks to do and to be in the world, Christianity is about the person of Jesus Christ, whose rising victorious from the tomb we are celebrating this morning with hope, with wonder and with joy. If our Christian faith and action is not grounded in Jesus, and in Him risen from the dead, it is hardly Christian at all.

While the reflections for the first thirteen stations of the Cross on Good Friday began with the words I see you, Jesus, the last reflection, on the placing of the body of Jesus in the tomb, began with the words, No longer do I see you, Jesus, for now all is dark”.

This theme of darkness - the theme of emptiness, of disillusionment, of fear - speaks very powerfully to us this Easter as we watch with both horror and growing concern the eruption and spread of war in the Middle East. The violence which seems to be spiralling out of control, and threatening to now reach beyond Israel, Lebanon and Iran, can seem to make nonsense of, or at least call into question, the central message of Easter: the message that love is stronger than hate and that life is stronger than death. As we look around us hatred and death seem to have the upper hand in so many places – perhaps even in our own hearts at times - and we can be tempted to wonder about he words which opened the reflection for the last Station on Good Friday - no longer do I see you, Jesus, for now all is dark. Are these words, in reality, a truer expression of our situation than the Easter promise of hope and peace?

But just as the disciples, who were so demoralised by the dreadful events of Good Friday and who lived through the emptiness and desolation of Holy Saturday, had their lives up-ended by the overwhelming experience of the risen Jesus, so the joy of this morning’s celebration has the power to overwhelm us and upend our lives too, if God grants us eyes to see Jesus, risen from the dead, walking with us on our daily journey through life, constantly offering us the gift of peace, hope in our darkness, and freedom from fear. This was the experience of Mary Magdalene and the other women who came to the tomb on that first Easter morning: it can be our experience too, for peace, hope and freedom are the Lord’s Easter gifts to us. This morning Jesus is asking us to put our trust in Him, to throw in our lot with Him, to take that risk of faith which the Easter story invites us to take.

Last night here in the Cathedral, during the Easter Vigil, those present witnessed the courage and faith of a group of people who in a very striking way were able to say -– and to say very publicly – I see you Jesus. I see you present in my life; I see you calling me to follow you; I see you knocking at my door and tonight I open that door for you to come into my life. Some of them were baptised after a long and often winding journey of discovery of God’s presence in their lives; some, already Christians whose faith had been nurtured in other traditions, had heard God call them to enter into full communion with the Catholic Church;  and some who had begun their faith journey as Catholics some time ago sought to confirm and deepen that faith through the Sacrament of Confirmation. 

The joy on their faces, and for some the tears in their eyes, were and are a sign of hope for us all that the darkness which threatens to overwhelm us does not have the last word. As we reflect on the way in which the Lord continues to call people into the Catholic community of faith, let us recognise this as a living sign of the truth and power of the resurrection of Christ. He can break through any barrier; He can bring light to the darkest night; He can calm the most debilitating fear.

He has risen from the dead – He calls us to walk in the light of his love.