EASTER VIGIL 2018
We began
this solemn Easter Vigil with the lighting of the Easter Fire in the landscaped
area at the front entrance of the Church.
From the Easter fire, we lit the Easter candle, the Christ candle – the
light of the Risen Christ that overcomes the darknesses of our lives. After
lighting the Christ Candle, we enter the Church in darkness. It is the darkness of the closed up tomb
where Jesus’ body lay on Holy Saturday.
The stone has been rolled in front of it. No light enters. It is utterly dark.
It is the
darkness of the loss of someone dear to us, whose absence we fear we will never
be able to deal with. The darkness of a terrifying diagnosis. The darkness of
not knowing where a child of ours is. The darkness of a shattering reality that
we had no idea was coming our way.
The darkness of
the Church at the beginning of our liturgy speaks most directly to the daily
reality of our lives. After the shock of death or words that bring
despair--words like cancer, divorce, terminal, downsizing--we find
ourselves living with the "what next" of life--and we enter the dark
void of unknowing.
This is where
many of us live, from time to time. Yes, there are times when we live between
death and resurrection. It is the valley of grief and unknowing--for us as well
as for the first disciples. On Holy Saturday we, and they, don't know what the
future will bring. Whether the cancer will be cured, or we will love again, or
find a job that fulfills our calling. It is a time of dark uncertainty.
From the first
Scripture reading, the creation account from the Book of Genesis, "In
the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a
formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep..." In the
beginning, all was a dark void. And in this empty tomb where Jesus was buried, we
find the same reality--it is a dark void. How many times will we find ourselves in that
dark place? A place where any ray of hope is extinguished in the vacuum of
fear, of not knowing, of total emptiness.
But in that
place, somehow through the grace of God, we must be patient. We must wait for
the wind of the Spirit, the "wind from God that sweeps over the face of
the waters" to fan the dim embers of our faith.
"Then God
said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light.... God called the light Day
and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning,
the first day."
You see, both
darkness and light are part of the first day. Darkness and light are halves of
every day ever since that first day. Darkness and light are essential parts of
our lives. And when we find ourselves in that dark lonely place, we must remind
ourselves of this truth. There will always ultimately be light in the midst of
the darkness.
Darkness is
shorthand for anything that scares me--either because I am sure that I do not
have the resources to survive it or because I do not want to find out.
In the second
Scripture reading from the Book of Exodus, as God leads Moses and the
Israelites out of Egypt at night, the Israelites cry out to God in fear and
uncertainty as they see the massive army of Pharaoh in pursuit behind them,
while in front of them is the sea--they are trapped in the darkness of fear and
faithlessness. "It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians
than to die in the wilderness!" they cry out. But Moses tells them,
"Do not be afraid, stand firm, and see the deliverance that the Lord will
accomplish for you today.... The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to
keep still."
It is so hard
to keep still in the fearful dark, isn't it? It is so hard to trust that
the wind of God's spirit will, finally, blow on the dim embers of our cooling
faith.
Thanks be to
God, the angel of God who was going before the Israelite army moved and went behind
them; and the pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind
them." The divine presence, the
angel of God, glowing within the cloud in the darkness, blocks the oncoming
threat of the Egyptian army. You see, there will always be light in the midst
of darkness. God will show up at night. We have only to keep still.
Darkness is
part of every day. But there will be light. What would our lives with God look
like if we trusted this rhythm of darkness and light instead of fighting it?
The Exsultet,
the beautiful hymn of praise that Jacob
sang so powerfully, proclaims this rhythm of dark and light, of night and dawn,
of death and resurrection: "This is the night...when you brought
our ancestors, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt....
"This
is the night...when all who believe in Christ are delivered from the gloom
of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life....
"This
is the night...when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose
victorious from the grave....
"How holy
is this night, when wickedness is put to flight, and sin is washed away. It
restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to those who mourn.....
"How
blessed is this night, when earth and heaven are joined and we are reconciled
to God.
Liturgically we
light the Easter Candle because we believe in the light that comes from the
Risen Lord. Indeed, in the light that
comes from the Risen Lord, the darkness of fear and the darkness of sin is no
more. This Easter candle needs to be lit
in the deep recesses of our hearts.
This night is a
night of Easter Joy. Alleluia,
Alleluia. We now welcome in the
Sacraments of Initiation Allan Bernhardt, Scott Gallmeyer, and Kristen Margraf
into discipleship of our Risen Lord.
Then the whole community will be invited to renew your baptismal vows
and share in the mystery of the Eucharist in which we are fed and nourished at
the Table of the Lord.
May we share in
the joy and hope of the Risen Lord.