In the Dark of the Night

Genesis 1.1-5, 24 – 2.3, Exodus 14.1 – 15.1, Isaiah 55:1-11, Ezekiel 36.24-28, Ezekiel 37:1-14, Romans 6.1-11, Matthew 28:1-10
The Very Rev. Dr. Ann McElligott

This is the night when we crack open the rich symbols of our faith, when symbols pregnant with meaning, become vividly alive in the dark hours of Easter eve.

A night rich with symbols.
Darkness becomes light -
a new fire is kindled
the Paschal candle of Christ is lit.

A night rich with symbols.

Living water –

the waters are split asunder

the waters of baptism cleanse

the waters generate life anew.

A night rich with symbols.

Dying and rising –

we have been buried with Christ

we are being raised with Christ

we bear Christ’s mark in the world.

In this holy darkness we gather to see the marvelous and holy flame that can illuminate the whole of a darkened world.

We have gather around the living water to remember how we once were washed clean and freed from all our sins.

We gather to be renewed and sent forth rejoicing to proclaim our God’s victory in exaltation and praise.

We gather to be ourselves – our whole selves, our souls and our bodies – resurrected with Christ.

We gather to sing our delicious hymn of praise, the Exsultet, to rejoice with the heavenly legions of angels, and to proclaim the victory of our mighty King.

O how holy is this night when earth is illumined with this celestial radiancy!

It was a dreadful dark in Egypt, that night so long ago. The night of the Lord’s Passover was filled with the heart-wrenching cries of lamentation and grief that filled homes throughout all Pharaoh’s land.

In the dark of the night,

the Hebrew people fled from captivity;

they shook off the shackles of bondage;

they ran for their lives from the mighty power of Pharaoh and his armies;

they huddled on the shores of the Red Sea.

And so we sing,

This night is come, wherein, when our fathers, the children of Israel were led forth out of Egypt, you divided the sea and made them pass over as on dry land.

In our darkness this night, we are gathered to seek our deliverance, to risk accepting the invitation to freedom, and to make the journey to a new and promised land.

It was dark and miserable in Jerusalem, that night so long ago. The devastated band of Jesus’ followers had wept through the interminable hours of the Sabbath. They were lost, dejected and dreadfully alone.

In the dark of the pre-dawn night,

two grief-stricken women rose from their beds of tears to walk through the silent, echoing streets of Jerusalem to the place of that guarded, dreadful tomb, where their friend Jesus had been laid with such finality on that awful afternoon.

And so we sing:

The night is come, wherein the bonds of death were loosed, and Christ harrowing hell rose again in triumph.

In our darkness this night, we are gathered to welcome our risen Lord, to proclaim our faith in his victorious presence in our very midst, and to venture afresh into a covenant of resurrected discipleship with him.

It was dark in the streets of Jerusalem during the time when Constantine was emperor of Rome, another night so long ago.

In the dark of the night,

the faithful gathered in the shadow-filled Church of the Holy Sepulcher, hungry from a weekend of fasting and praying, breathless in anticipation of the mysteries that were to come;

they kindled the new flame and sang their praises before the light of Christ;

they recounted again the stories of their own people, the magnificent stories of the mighty acts of their God.

In the dark of the night,

they rejoiced at creation;

they remembered the exultant shout and the wild dancing on the shores of the Red Sea;

they remembered the promises of the prophets.

And so we sing,

How wonderful then, O God, is your loving kindness to us, your children, who to redeem a servant, delivered up His only Son.

In our darkness this night, we are gathered to tell once again our stories, to sing our songs, and to dare to join with the generations of faithful who have claimed God’s mighty acts as their own heritage.

It was dark in the churches throughout the Roman Empire – Ravenna and Antioch and Carthage and Rome – in the fifth century of our Lord, that night so long ago.

In the dark of the night,

the candle light glistened on the gleaming gold squares of the magnificent mosaic ceilings and shimmered on the waters of the great baptismal pools of water.

In the dark of the night,

the candidates for baptism were stripped and thrust beneath the living waters of the font and brought back to life in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit;

they were anointed and embalmed with the sweet smelling oils of crismation;

they were clothed in new white garments and welcomed with joy into the community of their fellow Christians;

they came to the table to receive the rich bread and sweet wine of God’s holy and sacramental banquet.

And so we sing,

The mystery of this most holy night puts to flight the deeds of darkness, purges away sin, restores innocence to the fallen, and gladness to those who mourn.

In our darkness this night, we have gathered around the font as Marianne, one of our own, made her pledges to follow Christ and was plunged under the waters baptism, surfacing as the very image for us of Christ rising from the tomb. We have surrounded three of our members as they renewed the promises of their baptismal covenants with God.

With them, we proclaimed and renewed our faith in God who is the Father and Mother of all vast expanses of creation, in God the child, who continually brings eternal redemption and salvation into all that falls from its essential Godness, and to God the sublime Spirit who breathes and wafts through every black hole and every chaotic exploding expanse of God’s vast holy universe.

In the darkness of this our world, we know our need for God’s love and power. In this darkness, we affirm and proclaim our faith in the power of the risen Christ. Here we see and know the victory of our God and the joyful resurrection of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

And so we sing,

O holy and glorious night wherein heaven and earth are joined, and humankind partakes with the Godhead.

Glory be to God in the highest heaven, for we will soon come gather around the table to receive the very broken body and the very lifeblood poured out for us by a God who loves us beyond all measure. We will approach God’s heavenly banquet, past the Paschal Candle with its newly kindled flame, to the altar where on Friday we reflected on the cross of Christ’s ultimate degradation and life-sustaining redemptive victory.

As we celebrate this Paschal Mystery of God’s dying and rising for us, may we be fashioned into a people who are grasped firmly in the resurrection glory. May we find courage to live as people who are the Christened ones – the Christ bearers in our world! May we find strength to proclaim the glory of the risen Christ in a dark world hungry for the holy light of Christ. In the brightness of this holy night may we raise our voices in the festival shout of praise.

Alleluia, Christ is Risen