Hope in the Darkness
When wickedness is put to flight
Today is my favorite day on the church calendar. Easter Vigil.
There are years where Good Friday feels too dark. Grappling with the terminal diagnosis of a loved one or walking through the valley of the shadow of death, sometimes sorrow surrounds us and it can be hard to breathe.
And there are years where Easter Sunday feels too bright. The despearate search through my closet to find something neither black nor navy blue, the loud hallelujahs, the flowers everywhere, shouts of “He is Risen Indeed!”—it can all feel a bit much.
But Holy Saturday always feels just right.
The Paschal Vigil.
It’s the Holy Week service most frequently skipped. Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and then straight to Easter Sunday. It’s an abrupt transition, with a day of errands and yard work thrown between.
Historically, the church held Easter Vigil services in through the night. The darkness fell, and fires were lit.
The light of Christ. Thanks be to God.
Baptisms were performed on this night, signifying that “we are buried with Christ by Baptism into his death, and raised with him to newness of life.”
It is a time when “Alleluias” are first uttered—whispered, not shouted.
It was the night before the resurrection. People gathered in hopeful expectation, but the darkness still surrounded them.
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 wonderful and beyond our knowing, O God, is your
mercy and loving-kindness to us, that to redeem a slave, you
gave a Son.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. It casts out pride and hatred, and brings
peace and concord.How blessed is this night, when earth and heaven are joined
and man is reconciled to God.
I confess that I’ve avoided Easter-related political news this week. I saw headlines about the president’s Easter proclamation and Easter prayer service but couldn’t quite bring myself to click through. I’d watched Jennifer Vasquez Sura’s Holy Week plea for her husband’s return, and I’d read of the Good Friday deadline for Afghan Christians to turn themselves in for deportation. Such actions of a purportedly “Christian nation” make words ring hollow.
The ancient liturgies invite us to wait in the darkness, to grasp at hope, to trust that dawn will come. Even if it feels far away.
This year, it feels especially right.
**We talked about politics and Holy Week on this week’s Convocation Unscripted, although if you want to avoide politics entirely this weekend, I affirm that choice. Here’s the link, but scroll down if you’d rather look at signs of spring from my own yard.
Surely, Easter is about joy. But I think we miss something important--something especially important right now--when we focus only on joy.
For me, Easter is even more about banishing fear. It is about how we live in this moment. It is the message of the angels to the women: Don't be afraid.
And why should we not be afraid? Because Easter shows us where Jesus asked us to come and follow him. Good Friday shows us that the path leads to submission to the cross--the ultimate act of self-denial--and to physical death at the hands of those who would make us afraid if we dare to resist them. Easter is the proof point that we should not be afraid of those who merely can kill the body. Easter shows us that now, in this moment, we can resist human hatred and human injustice and raw human power because none of these gets to have the last word in God's kingdom. Just as the resurrection transformed the disciples from cowering silence into bold proclaimers of the gospel, so Easter tells us that we don't have to be afraid of those today who destroy freedom and justice. So I am going to the protest today. And I am going unbowed and unafraid.
I've always thought of this as Quiet Saturday. The disciples went back to their lives, still stunned from the events of the day before. But meanwhile, Christus Victor was proclaiming his victory to the powers of hell (I Peter 3:18-19). The things unseen supersede the things seen (II Cor. 4), foreshadowing life post-Pentecost (Ordinary Time). In any case, the White House statement on Easter was an orthodox proclamation of classic Christian doctrines. The problem, of course, is the source (both in terms of venue and character), and the amount of "pre-evangelism" with our life and characters (I Pet. 3:15) that is even more incumbent on all of us. Beautiful flowers, by the way!