A few years ago, Business Insider magazine had a cover story that said “Google wants you to live forever.” At first glance you might dismiss it as a public relations campaign to further dominate the marketplace or just another tech company trying to sell us digital immortality. But no, they were deadly serious. Despite some setbacks, Silicon Valley’s quest for immortality continues. Through ventures like Calico, their anti-aging research company, there are numbers of brilliant minds who are spending billions of dollars trying to crack the code of aging. They’re building microscopic robots to swim through our blood, programming AI to outsmart cancer, and dreaming up ways to keep our hearts beating for centuries. Some of their ideas belong in science fiction – like transplanting human brains or fusing our bodies with machines.
Thank you for taking the time to read this homily for EASTER SUNDAY OF THE RESURRECTION OF THE LORD JESUS CHRIST (April 20, 2025). Your support means a great deal to me, and I’m deeply grateful for the many who share these messages with their friends, families and social media followers. If you’ve found meaning in these words, I’d be grateful if you’d share them with others who might benefit.
And for those who prefer listening, you can find the audio version on SoundCloud HERE or subscribe to the podcast on iTunes HERE. Your comments, messages, and the way you’ve embraced these homilies continue to inspire me. Sincerely in Christ -Father Jim
But if you listen closely, read between the lines, you’ll recognize something haunting in these quests. These titans of tech, with all their wealth and power, are running a desperate race against time. As one of them confessed, “Time is the one thing I can’t get back.” Despite their billions and their brilliance, they’re all chasing the same impossible dream – trying to escape the truth that’s echoed since Eden: “In the end, we are all heading to the same place.”
While Silicon Valley chases what we might call “immortality lite” – setting goals of 150 years, maybe 500 – we’re here today to celebrate something far more revolutionary. Not just a longer life, but an entirely new kind of life. We’re here because an execution victim walked out of His tomb, and nothing has been the same since.
Think about that for a minute. Jesus Christ – who laughed at weddings, wept at tombs, felt every joy and heartbreak we’ve ever known – didn’t just survive death. He shattered it. And He promises to do the same for those who follow Him.
I know, It sounds too good to be true. Some of us are here on Easter like we’re buying cosmic insurance – just in case all this resurrection talk turns out to be true. The doubts feel heavy, don’t they?
Death certainly makes its case well enough. It screams from our newsfeeds, whispers in hospital corridors, echoes in those last voicemails we can’t bring ourselves to delete. These things can make faith feel like a fairy tale.
But just think about those first disciples. They watched their hope die on a cross. Saw their dreams buried in a borrowed tomb. Yet these same doubters – these practical, skeptical people like us – became fearless, convicted witnesses testifying to their having met and touched and ate with the risen Christ that they died proclaiming this truth: death has met its match.
As Pope Benedict XVI reminded us: “Death and life have come face to face in a tremendous duel: the Lord of life was dead, but now he lives triumphant!” This isn’t mere optimism – it’s revolutionary truth. While tech billionaires wage war against aging, we celebrate the One who’s already conquered death itself.
What’s fascinating is how differently these two paths approach the same human longing. These so-called transhumanists want to extend this life indefinitely – more of the same, just longer, with slight upgrades along the way. They dream of uploading consciousness to computers or replacing aging organs with synthetic parts. But they’re still working within the boundaries of what we already know, trying to stretch it further.
Jesus offers something entirely different. The empty tomb isn’t about extending the old life – it’s about transforming it completely. As Benedict XVI also taught us, “The light which dazzled the guards keeping watch over Jesus’ tomb has traversed time and space. It is a different kind of light, a divine light.” This isn’t about extending our time on earth, but about stepping into God’s eternal kingdom – where time itself is transformed by love.
Think about how the risen Christ appeared to His followers. In the next 7 weeks as the Church continues to bask in the true joy that is Easter, we will hear in the Gospels how Jesus wasn’t just a resuscitated corpse, coming back to business as usual. He was transformed, yet still himself. He could walk through walls, yet eat fish by the seashore. He was physical enough to be touched, yet different enough to be sometimes unrecognizable. These are just some glimpses the Gospel writers are able to give us as to what real immortality looks like – not an endless extension of our current limitations, but a transformation that transcends them.
That immortality that the first disciples encountered in the Risen Christ transformed them from fearful individuals hiding in an upper room into fearless witnesses who spread this Good News throughout the world with their dying breaths.
And the Risen Christ comes to us here and now in this His word and in the Body and Blood in the Eucharist, calling us to transformation. To live as Easter people who see each day through resurrection eyes. Which means:
loving with abandon – because love outlasts death
forgiving freely – because we’ve been forgiven infinitely
giving generously – because we’re heirs to everything
When Christ’s life flows through us, even ordinary moments sparkle with eternal significance.
Silicon Valley might help us live longer – and that’s fine. But Jesus offers something they can’t imagine: not just extended life, but eternal life. Not just more heartbeats, but a new heart. Not just survival, but resurrection.
This Easter morning, standing in the light of that empty tomb, we face a choice. We can keep chasing Silicon Valley’s dream of postponing death, or we can embrace the new life we already received at our Baptisms. Which is why in a few moments we will renew those Baptismal Promises – not as mere ritual, but as a recommitment to this transformative reality.
Because here’s the truth that changes everything: The God who rolled away that stone can roll away every stone in your life. The power that lifted Jesus from the grave can lift you from whatever tomb holds you captive – if only you’ll let Him.
The tech world’s quest for immortality reveals something profound about human nature – we know, deep down, that we were made for more than death. That instinct isn’t wrong. We were indeed made for eternal life. But the path there isn’t through silicon and circuits – it’s through the empty tomb.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. And in Him, we too shall rise.
Not just for a few hundred years. Not just for a few thousand years.
Forever. Happy Easter
