Rome - Cardinal Dominique Joseph Mathieu, Archbishop of Tehran-Isfahan, has chosen to share an Easter reflection deeply marked by his present condition: that of a shepherd far from his flock because of the war, waiting for the day when he may embrace them again.
From the opening lines of his reflection, the cardinal identifies the central tension of his experience: distance from the people entrusted to his care, and the closeness that continues to be realised in Christ. Mathieu writes that he celebrated the Easter Vigil carrying in his heart the faithful entrusted to him. Though physically far away, he says he felt mysteriously close to each of them. War, he writes, imposes a material separation, yet it does not sever the ecclesial bond, which continues to live in prayer, in the Eucharist and in the communion of saints. For the cardinal, what appears to human eyes as absence can, in faith, become a deeper form of union. In his meditation, the prelate recounts that he found himself celebrating “under the dome of St Peter’s Basilica”, beneath the sign of the universal Church and in visible communion with the Successor of Peter. On the one hand, he offers the witness of proximity to the heart of Catholicism; on the other, the suffering of being far from the people the Lord has entrusted to him. Mathieu reads this condition as a spiritual school, a painful yet fruitful apprenticeship in which distance can be lived as a bridge drawing people closer in Christ.
His words amount to a true Easter catechesis. The cardinal recalls the meaning of the night of Easter, the threshold between darkness and light, and reflects on the image of the moon reflecting the light of the sun, associating it with the Virgin Mary, who points entirely to Christ, the source of all life. From there the meditation turns to the Gospel of Matthew, to the women who go to the tomb with the faithfulness of those who continue to love even in the face of death. In those female figures, Mathieu sees the perseverance of the believing heart, capable of remaining close to the mystery even when everything seems given over to defeat. The prelate devotes considerable space to the Gospel account of the earthquake, the angel who rolls away the stone, and the announcement of the Resurrection. The cardinal insists that what seemed definitively sealed is opened again by the power of God. The proclamation, “Do not be afraid”, becomes the interpretative key to the whole Christian experience: the hoped-for promise does not remain confined to some remote future, but already enters history and the concrete life of the believer. The Resurrection, Mathieu observes, is certainly the final promise, yet it is also a mystery already at work in the life of those who live by the grace of Christ.
The cardinal lingers over the passage from paralysing fear to the “holy fear” that opens the way to faith. The women leave the tomb and run with “fear and great joy”; the Risen Lord himself comes to meet them, allows himself to be touched, adored and recognised. Mathieu thus underlines the concreteness of the Resurrection: the Crucified One is alive, makes himself present, takes the initiative and gathers his people once more. Here too, his words retain a clear pastoral resonance: the Lord reaches his people even when everything seems shattered by trial. Particularly significant is the reference to Galilee. In the Gospel, it is the place where the disciples will find the Risen Christ; in the reflection offered by the cardinal, it becomes the symbol of return, reunion and life beginning again. “For us too, there is a Galilee,” Mathieu writes, thereby pointing to the day when, God willing, it will be possible to be together once more. These are words that hold within them the full tension of his present condition: the pain of distance, the wound of war, and also the Christian expectation of a reunion made possible by the Risen Lord.
In the concluding passage, Mathieu summarises the deepest meaning of his message: the Resurrection also transforms the experience of distance and places it within a communion that remains alive. His reflection, born in a context marked by war, thus takes on a broader ecclesial breadth: the bond between the bishop and the faithful does not fail when it is Christ who sustains it, safeguards it and directs it towards the day of being together again.
fr.M.G.
Silere non possum