Sermon preached by the Rev’d Neil Fernyhough, Great Vigil of Easter, 2008 (March 22).
Readings: Baruch 3:9-15, 32–4:4; Psalm 114; Romans 6:3-11; Matthew 28:1-10
“The women came to Jesus, took hold of his feet, and worshipped him.” – Mt 28:9
Because it still so novel a commemoration for most Anglicans, the Great Vigil of Easter tends to be the most neglected of the three last days of Holy Week, called (appropriately enough) the Triduum. This is unfortunate, because the Great Vigil is essentially the Easter version of the Christmas Midnight Mass. In other words, it is the occasion when we truly usher in that most joyous of Christian festivals, our Passover, Easter.
It is entirely fitting, therefore, that the three symbolic things we do this night so vibrantly articulate the message of this feast. The new light coming into a world of darkness is represented by the Paschal candle – a single flame undivided, in which we participate. It is a flame that kindles our souls, beginning a chain reaction of love which has the power to embrace the whole of creation in its warmth.
Following the celebration of the new light, we renew our baptismal vows, recalling St. Paul’s understanding of baptism as a thorough, personal identification with Jesus Christ. As we heard tonight in his letter to the Christian community in Rome, we should understand that, as we were baptised into Jesus’ death, so we experience a resurrection life like Jesus. Water is a symbol of life – indeed, it is more than a symbol; it is sustenance itself. It makes life possible. In baptism we are lowered into the tomb of an old life which is mere survival, and raised from the consecrated water into life which is life indeed – one animated and sustained by love.
And so it seems only natural that we end our service with that symbolic act of Christian worship which so defines our tribal religion – “the thing with the bread and the wine,” as my non-Christian friends describe it. This feast of love, this Eucharist, which is taken from the Greek word meaning an act of gratitude. It is a sign of Christ’s love for us made tangible in his enduring presence in these gifts of bread and wine, of our love for him in taking his spiritual essence into our bodies and beings, and our love for one another as we share together in this foretaste of the heavenly banquet.
The rituals associated with baptism and Eucharist are not static dead ends whose meaning begins, endures, and ends only as long as the rituals themselves take place. They are imperative acts calling on us to live out the culture of life that they indicate. And so, in Matthew’s reworking of Mark’s narrative which we heard tonight, the women, instead of running in fear from an empty tomb, approach the risen Lord and worship him. But they don’t stay there. Nor do they return to their homes and go about their lives as if nothing happened, only maybe to go out and worship him again the following week.
The fifty-day festival we inaugurate tonight is a celebration of the culture of life, itself inaugurated by the resurrection – that core and fundamental key that unlocks all Christian teaching, doctrine, liturgy, service, and fellowship. The term “culture of life” has become a political buzzword of the Christian right and their political surrogates, but I want to paint it in starkly different terms – to give us all something to consider as we return home tonight and prepare for the big day ahead.
For all the rhetoric on this issue by power-brokers, I don’t see much of a culture of life in our world. Is a culture of life encouraged when the poor continue to fall ill and die because of inadequate access to health care? Is a culture of life nurtured when governments and corporations facilitate the destruction of the ecological systems that make life itself possible? Is a culture of life celebrated when we are encouraged to value that which we can buy, rather than those whom we could love? Is a culture of life embraced when people are wounded and killed as a result of terrorism and war, crushing poverty, and preventable diseases? I think I would have to call that something else. A culture of death, perhaps.
God became manifest as a human being for one reason only – to defeat the culture of death and inaugurate a culture of life. He did this by what he taught and did – reaching out to those who were oppressed by evil, and above all by transcending death itself. This event, Christ’s resurrection, shatters history and time, and shows us what a culture of life really is. It is about no longer having to fear death, and so cower within the ambit of its limitations. It is about no longer having to feel that we must submit to the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God. The resurrection of Christ is about perfect love – the perfect love which, as Scripture teaches, casts out all fear.
The culture of life is spiritual, and because it is spiritual, it is enduring. It is about finding and nourishing that which makes for a world modelled on the will of God, not clinging to what is transitory. Through scripture, prayer, and the sacraments, we should all know what that will is. Ours is a God who speaks of abundant life nourished through a loving encounter with the one who is Love. Ours is a God who speaks of liberation and joy, made possible by God’s faithfulness. Ours is a God who cannot say “no” to us – a God who wants us, as well, to say yes – to say yes to the life and the love made possible through God’s gift of the Holy Spirit. How can we have the courage to say “yes” in a culture that glorifies death in its consumerism, its militarism, and its institutionalization of spirituality? We have to overcome fear by embracing the love that casts it out. And we do this when we stand with the women in the garden and recognise Love when Love greets us.
There is a difference between existence and life. It is the love of God which makes life itself possible. But the life we have also makes the love of God possible. We make that love possible every day by choosing to walk the path of God; building a realm of justice, peace, and love in our families, our parish, our neighbourhoods, our world. And when we do that, we move from existence to life that is life indeed. As we embark on this Paschal season, let us celebrate Christ’s culture of life – a true culture of life which has the power to transform the world, and us along with it. Amen.
© Richard Neil Fernyhough, 2008
