Episcopal Diocese of Iowa [ Sermon Easter Vigil 2007 ]

Easter Vigil 2007
Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Des Moines
Bishop Alan Scarfe

On Wednesday evening I visited Trinity Church, Waterloo as part of my Holy Week pilgrimage, and participated in their service of Tenebrae. In one hour and fifteen minutes we recited a dozen or so psalms, heard nine lessons and watched as 15 candles were reduced to one, and then finally even that single candle was taken away.

Suddenly in the darkness a thunderous noise startled us all, and the Christ Candle returned to be the single light to light out way out of the sanctuary in silence.

Tonight the process is reversed. We begin with one solitary Candle – the Paschal Candle- lit from natural fire, and its glow we listen again.

The light is shared among us – all our candles or tapers having come from this one new light – and again through readings and songs in place of psalms, the pieces of our faith are steadily put back together.

This IS the night. There is NO OTHER like it throughout the year, not even Christmas or New Year’s.

We remind ourselves of our origins – that we are created and none of us had anything to do with our own creation. It was something received.

We remind ourselves that God’s breath gives life, and without it we are dried bones and have hearts of stone.

We remind ourselves that we are born not for solitary lives but for community – that for each of us there was a welcoming party – our mothers for sure, but also our fathers on the whole, and maybe our grandparents, and if we were very fortunate even our church family, our family of faith rejoiced at our birth and began preparations already perhaps for our baptisms.

And we remind ourselves that even if we entered this life without any fanfare, unexpected, unwanted, resented even, God saw our appearing and delighted in us, and the angels rejoiced with Him.

Hard to imagine for those on the corners of our earth these days, but even so everywhere. It is so; our faith says it must be so and in that very belief is our life’s mission and that if we would ever perfectly grasp it would burn within us until this truly becomes One world with One Church.

Nothing ever asked of us is not already modeled by our Creator God.

I sometimes wonder about Christ’s own consciousness as it returned to Him in the darkness of the tomb. There had to be such a moment – a where am I moment? As death was swallowed up in resurrection life. What did he first see or hear? Who greeted Him? Was it the angels at the door of the tomb? Yet suddenly the light flickered back on, the heartbeat returned, and I have to think the angels were overjoyed as the Father whispered “Peace be with you” into Jesus’ ear.

We need to try and enter into these things. I know that nineout of ten times I move too fast, or become too full of distractions surrounded by too much noise and busyness to hear such things. I say nine out of ten for I now that there are the occasional grace-filled moments of deeper reflection. This night is one of them.

And so we treat one another with liturgy as we worship and give thanks for the blessedness of our God. Tonight’s liturgy is extraordinary. It always leaves me with a spiritual hangover for Easter morning. In fact maybe it ought to be our only Easter celebration going on from the early morning into the beginning of the new day, letting liturgy and life blend together.

It is our time to greet each other as we come alive – awake to our new life in Jesus Christ.

In Bucharest, Romania, the Orthodox Easter carries you through the night. It is an extravagant affair, staring close to midnight and taking you deep into the early morning hours. At its liturgy’s conclusion, the streets are filled with candles held by thousands of worshippers. Especially notable especially in the communist days were the young people – huddled in doorways, laughing, talking, playing, greeting strangers with the news that Christ is risen – and the response indeed – in truth he is risen. They would seem set to wait out the night so that the light of their Christ candles can be accompanied by the glow of the light of the rising sun in that first Easter sunrise.

What an image – Christ’s light flows into the sunlight of our normal day, making his light that enlightens every one coming into the world blend with the light that lightens every day. It creates with it hope for another year.

It is why we bring light back in the form of the Paschal candles during the rest of the year especially for baptisms and funerals – for our coming ins and our going outs of our regular existence – capturing the reality that Christ’s light fills up everything and everyone, and darkness can never snuff it out. It illumines the corners where evil likes to lurk, and exposes all to the true light of Divine Love.

Dare we enjoy this night to the full? Dare we carry Christ’s light within us until it lightens our everyday existence?

Dare we measure all things by its brilliance, its permanence, its overwhelming potency for changing things, its capacity to expose and reveal truth?

Dare we see its connecting rays? Not only in terms of our own daily lives, but in the fact that one source of Divine Light lightens everyone who is come into the world? And we are caught in the same glow?

And dare we thus let it be our guiding light – to a path that will not settle until everyone is captured in its true glory that is God, who is in Jesus Christ the very light of the world and our own light?