The
Great Vigil of Easter
13.8
billion years ago, in an explosion of light and unimaginable energy, the
universe as we know it came into existence. About 9.3 billion years later, some
of the raw elements from that big bang coalesced to form the planet Earth.
Within a billion years of that event, the first single-celled life forms
emerged. It took a long time, but some 200 million years ago the earliest
mammals began walking the earth. Over the ages, life evolved and developed
until the homo sapiens appeared about 200,000 years ago. Our ancient ancestors
went through some remarkable changes, intellectually, socially, and
spiritually, and it was roughly 3,800 years ago when a man named Abram left his
home in Haran and eventually settled in a land called Canaan. His descendants,
the people of Israel, escaped slavery in Egypt roughly 600 years or so later
and entered into a covenant with the LORD whose name they would not even
pronounce. They reached a high point some three thousand years ago when David
was crowned king, but they faltered in the years after that, struggling in
their political life and foundering in their relationship with God. Prophets
arose, and for centuries they admonished, chastised, encouraged, and pleaded
until finally, in kairos, the
fullness of time, Jesus of Nazareth was born — almost 2,000 years after God
called Abraham, and billions of years after the Holy One said, Let there be light.
Tonight
we built our fire and sat in the darkness illumined by candle flames while we
let our minds stretch back into the depths of time. It is an amazing story, and
we heard just tiny snippets of it, but enough to remind us that it is all
connected, all part of a greater narrative. And because we are people of faith,
we recognize that it is a meaning-full story, the work of a God whose love,
patience, and sheer persistence stagger the imagination. And both the Book of
Scripture and the Book of Nature make it plain that this God is all about life.
From the very beginning, God intended life. And from the very beginning, God
intended us: beings who could consciously share with God in the joy of being
alive and being part of this amazing story. And more than just share in it, but
love it, and love each other, and love God, whose love is the beginning and the
end of everything. And the story makes equally clear that God will not let
anything ultimately prevent us from experiencing the fullness of life and love
which God intends for us, a point driven home in all our readings tonight, a
truth so beautifully expressed in Paul’s letter to the Romans when he writes: For I am convinced that neither death, nor
life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able
to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom.
8:38-39).
The
resurrection of Jesus we celebrate tonight is not some kind of miraculous
aberration, a dramatic departure from the big plan: it has been the plan all
along. As surely as God was going to live and die as one of us to shatter any
sense of separation, so surely that God was going to overcome death itself.
Jesus confirms what the prophets of Israel had long begun to believe and trust
in: that God’s love is forever, and we are made for eternal life. If I may borrow
a phrase from Martin Luther King, the arc of the universe is long, but it bends
toward resurrection.
And
it’s still bending. The divine energy that led inexorably to the Incarnation
and the Resurrection has not faded. The love which powered the story through to
the empty tomb has not diminished. Did you listen to those readings? God does not grow tired. The story we heard
tonight goes on, and the evolving, forward-thrusting nature of that story is
reflected in the poignant interchange between Mary Magdalene and Jesus in our
Gospel. When she finally realizes it’s him, she reaches out to hold him — but
he won’t let her. That was appropriate earlier in the story, during his earthly
ministry, but now the plot has expanded. Jesus is no longer just the loving
Lord who is available to those who are physically close enough to see and touch
him: he is now the Risen Christ, whose love will now be available to everyone
everywhere every moment through His Spirit, who is the Holy Spirit of God.
So
our task is not to linger at the empty tomb. The story moves on, and so do we.
And Paul reminds us tonight of our joyful mission: We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again;
the death he died, he died to sin, once
for all, but the life he lives, he lives to God. So you also must consider
yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus (Rom. 6:9-11). The
essence of sin is separation from God, but we are not separate. The Spirit of
the Risen Christ lives in us now and forever. Not even death can separate us
from God. So our job is to live accordingly, to live like we actually believe
that. So think with me here. What crippling fear could we let go of, like the
fear of failure or the fear of death? We share in the risen life of Jesus: we
don’t need to be afraid of these things. Or what crushing burdens could we let
go of, like the burden of having to prove ourselves or make ourselves look
perfect? We are living the resurrection from the dead: we don’t need to carry
those burdens. Or how could we let love flow through us more freely and more
generously? We don’t need to be stingy: we can take risks and give ourselves
away, because we have the Spirit of the Risen Lord in us, who never grows weary
and who never gives up. Can you think of one new way you will consider yourself
alive to God in Christ, one new way that you will let the Resurrection of Jesus
actually change your life? Surely each one of us can do that. And why not?
We
are about to celebrate the mysteries of the Holy Eucharist, the very presence
of the Risen Christ among us and within us. And then we’ll go into the Parish
Hall and drink our champagne or sparkling cider and celebrate. And then
tomorrow, we will carry on the celebration — as resurrection people. Because
the Great Story keeps going, and we’re part of it. So be part of it — and live
like the joy has already begun, and the best is yet to be.
This was an absolutely spectacular sermon that left me in tears! Thank you, David!!
ReplyDeleteGrace Cangialosi