This Vigil is a night of Easter joy. The Easter candle needs to be lit in the deep recesses of our hearts.

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.