In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
This is the night. On this most blessed and holy evening, we encounter the fullness of all Christian liturgy. In the ancient church, people who were preparing for Baptism underwent an intense period of preparation, called the catechumenate. They learned about the faith before being baptized at the Easter Vigil. However, one thing that they did not learn about was the liturgy. Today, if you want to explore the faith, you can come and participate fully in our worship, you just don’t receive Eucharist until you are baptized. But in the ancient Church, the catechumens were dismissed after the prayers and did not ever see or learn about the Eucharist. And because Baptism happened once a year at the Vigil, and they were not yet baptized, they had never seen a Baptism or Easter Vigil.
This pedagogical approach was that the saving mysteries of Baptism and Eucharist are not things to explain, but rather have to be first experienced if they are to be understood. So the sermon at the Easter Vigil, which often happened after these rituals, sought to explain what these newly baptized Christians had just experienced. This practice is known as mystagogy – or speaking about the mysteries. Tonight, my sermon will follow this ancient practice and is a mystagogical exploration of our liturgy, and especially of the Exsultet.
We began as daylight faded in our columbarium, the place of death. And being surrounded by those who have gone before us in faith, the new light of Easter was kindled. The choir sang a version of the ancient hymn called the Phos hilaron, which was sung at every evening service in the early Church. Having a lighting ceremony in evening worship goes back to, at least, the 200s. The Phos is a beautiful hymn that praises God for the true light which burns eternally. The song is rooted in Psalm 141 which proclaims “Let my prayer be set forth in thy sight as the incense, and let the lifting up of my hands be an evening sacrifice.” And so keep in mind, all that we do and say on this most holy night is about praising God for his infinite goodness and mercy.
The Deacon then led us from the columbarium into the church, three times proclaiming that what she carried is “The Light of Christ.” All of our lights find their source in this Easter light. The candle that Bonnie carried is called the Paschal candle; “Paschal” comes the Hebrew pesach which means “Passover.” Our Vigil tonight finds its roots in the Jewish custom of the Passover – of the faithful gathering to remember the mighty acts of God to save us and liberate us, of us hearing stories of how God has saved us in the past as we pray for God to continue shining grace upon us, of gathering for a sacred meal. Some churches will sometimes have Seder meals. Not only is that religious appropriation, but it’s also theologically flawed. The Vigil is our Passover celebration.
As we processed into the Church, we were led by that flame of the Paschal candle, which put forth both light and smoke, symbolizing the pillars of smoke and fire by which God led the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt to the waters of the Red Sea. At the Red Sea, the Hebrew people were liberated from Pharaoh’s oppression. At Easter, we are liberated from the oppression of Sin and Death, symbolized by the waters of Baptism. Just as a family might gather around a campfire to share their sacred stories, stories of their grandparents, stories that give them their identity – we do the same. We gather around the Light of Christ, hearing how God has saved us in the past, trusting that God is always with us.
When we all arrived in the church, our Deacon then beautifully chanted what has been called the “jewel of the Easter liturgy,” the Exsultet, so named because in Latin the first word is “exsultet,” which means “rejoice” or “exult.” We don’t know exactly when the Exsultet was first composed, but it was likely in the 400s, so it is an ancient hymn that is brilliant in content and composition. The words of this sacred hymn sanctify light, place, and time.
The Exsultet, first and foremost, calls us to rejoice for all that God has done for us. And I can’t help but wonder if we do enough rejoicing? Charles Wesley’s great hymn, “Love divine, all loves excelling,” concludes with “Let us see thy great salvation perfectly restored in thee. Changed from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place, till we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise.” When is the last time we lost ourselves in wonder, love, and praise? This is the night to do just that. And as we go forth tonight, perhaps it might be a priority in this Eastertide to go deeper into our salvation by intentionally setting aside more time to be in prayer so that we might rejoice more fully.
The reason why the Exsultet calls us to rejoice is the victory of Easter, of Christ over the grave. Christ wins for us that which we needed, but could never achieve ourselves. After we callously betrayed and brutally murdered the Lord of life, the most unimaginable and beautiful thing happened: new life. There is no rejection in which God does not remain with us. There is no pain in which God does not comfort us in. There is no darkness in which God’s light does not shine. There is no sin in which God’s mercy does not wash over us. There is no death in which God’s love does not remain. This is why we rejoice, because the result of Christ’s death on the Cross was not the collapse of the universe, but the inauguration of the New Creation in Christ.
Theologians sometimes speak of Easter as occurring on the Eighth Day. You’ll recall that in Genesis, Creation happened over a six day period, and then there was a day of Sabbath rest. So by seeing Easter as the Eighth Day, it means that the Resurrection is in continuity with all that has come before, but it is not simply resetting things back to the way they used to be. The Resurrection is something utterly new. This is why the eight-sided figured, the octagon, is prevalent in our liturgical architecture. You’ll notice that our Baptismal Font sits on an octagonal base; this is not accidental. Baptism is our new birth on the Eighth Day of Creation. This is why either Baptism or the renewing of our Baptismal Covenant always happens at the Easter Vigil.
But this grace which is given to us through the Resurrection is very much unexpected grace. As the Exsultet said, “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.” In Christ, God rectifies all that went astray because of human sin. Christ becomes the new Adam in the new Creation. This is why we rejoice, because there is nothing that we can ever do to earn our salvation. God loves us because God is love. Easter is the reminder that in this New Creation, we don’t have to prove our worth or earn God’s love. It truly does not matter how powerful you are in human terms, it does not matter how popular you are, how well dressed you are, how wealthy you are, how smart you are. What matters in the New Creation is that you rejoice in this grace of God.
After exhorting us to rejoice, the Exsultet then proclaims that “This is the night.” I know that if you pull out your phone, it’s going to tell you that it’s about 9pm on March 31st. And as odd as this sounds, I don’t believe that. Something sacred and wonderful happens at the Easter Vigil. The mystery of our salvation unfolds before us. Space and time bend in such a way that at this very moment, God is leading the Hebrew people through the Red Sea water. At this very moment, Ezekiel is sharing his vision of the resurrection of the dry bones. Right now, Isaiah is proclaiming that God’s word will accomplish that for which it was sent. Right now, God is raising Christ from the tomb. Right now, all those who have celebrated the Easter Vigil in centuries past are gathered with us. St. Paul, in his letter to the Romans wrote, “For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers.” Indeed, our salvation is unfolding before our very eyes. It has been said that the Easter Vigil is rooted in the very event that it celebrates. This is the night.
And so, in this holy space and time, the Deacon bids us to draw near to this sacred Light of Christ which burns through eternity. As we all know, fire warms, enlightens, and transforms. The Exsultet helps us to pray that this light always burn within us to provide us the warming comfort of God’s presence in a cold world. We pray that the Light of Christ guides us further into God’s truth as we live in the light of Resurrection while dwelling in the first Creation as citizens of the New Creation. And we seek to be transformed by this fire, that it might purge us from our sins and sanctify us more and more as vessels of God’s grace. This Paschal candle will burn from tonight through the Day of Pentecost; our prayer is that it burns eternally in our hearts and souls.
As we go forth from this holy place this evening, we go as new people who have seen this Light. Our task is to be acolytes who carry this Light of Christ forth into the world, allowing others to see it and constantly being sanctified by it. After the Easter proclamation has been made, we will hear the words of St. Paul letter to the Romans read: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by Baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a Resurrection like his.” Through our Baptisms, which we will have renewed ourselves in, we are united to Christ.
It is not that in order for Christ’s light to shine in this world that we are needed. God’s light will shine either through us or around us. But through our Baptism, we are given the sacred privilege and duty to grow in our salvation and share that Good News with others. As the angel tells the women at the tomb, “Go and tell.” We are to be mirrors that reflect the Light of Christ in a world that still has much darkness. Remember, what we bring is not our light, but Christ’s Light. The Greek word from which we derive our word “acolyte,” means “follower.” This is our Easter task – to follow the Light of Christ in the world, just as we have followed it from the place of Death into the New Creation through our Vigil liturgy. Follow the Light of Christ into the depths of God’s peace, mercy, and love for you. The Exsultet prays that God might find this light ever-burning, so may we be given the grace to be faithful stewards of this Light. We will be nourished by the Eucharist as we participate in this sacred mystery to do just that. As Jesus himself said, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
This is the night of our salvation. So let us rejoice in the Resurrection. And may the Light of the world, Jesus Christ, shine brightly in our hearts and in our lives. Amen.
