Easter Vigil

Luke 19.28-40; Philippians 2:5-11; Psalm 31.9-16; Romans 6.3-11; Luke 24.1-12

The Very Rev’d Bertrand Oliver, Dean and Rector

Alleluia, Christ is Risen!
Christ is Risen indeed, Alleluia

‘On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment.’ – Luke 23.56

I don’t know about you, but for me the liturgy of Good Friday, which we held yesterday here at the Cathedral has a powerful effect – as intended by those who devised it long ago. Every step in the shadow of the large cross on display is a reminder of the awe-fulness of the passion of Jesus, while at the same time reminding us of humanity’s inexorable participation in this event, both dreadful and lifesaving for the world.

Walking back from the Getshemane garden in our side chapel carrying the Sacrament of the presence of Jesus among us all the way to that cross, I feel full of foreboding so much so that I have to hold back the tears and I am not sure I will be able to read the remaining of the prayers at the altar.

And then, communion, when we shared in that pain and in that hope, when we are both woven into one as the body of Christ and yet consume his body to the end. The final ablutions at the altar. It is finished. Jesus is dead.
And then the waiting begins.

Now, of course, we know the rest of the story, a story which continues to be an inspiration in our lives. But like Jesus’s friends, we find ourselves dwelling in the moment of intense grief at losing a leader, a friend, a teacher, a healer, an inspiration, and the one bringing hope that things could be better, transformed, into just what God had intended. A kingdom of love, peace and justice.

Instead, denial, anger, bargaining with God, fear, and perhaps some form of acceptance already. The prevailing question: What will be next? What do we do?

And so it may be that, as they were gathered in their upper room, locked for fear of their safety, the disciples male and female retold to one another the promises that God had given his people throughout the ages, promises that culminated in the birth of their friend Jesus – an unlikely Messiah, and yet the one whom Zechariah foretold would ‘give God’s people knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of their sins. The one whose tender mercy caused the dawn from on high to break upon us, to shine upon us who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” (Luke 1.77-79)

God had been steadfast in his promises to humanity. In our vigil, we heard again how God blessed Abram so that he and his descendants would be a blessing to others. How Jacob and his offspring would inherit land which would allow them to be a blessing to all the families of the earth. Note that God does not bless for our own benefit alone, but to bless others.

We heard how God ensured that Moses would lead his people free from a slavery which had become a comfortable lifestyle in the shadow of powerful masters, but instead empowered them to living out their faith in communities grounded in love that could withstand the ravages of fire, as we heard in the story Shadrack, Meshach and Abednego as told by the prophet Daniel.

Throughout history, the purpose of God has been to rejoice in creation, to nurture and foster humanity to live by the divine principles, that we may thrive together – sharing resources, looking after one another and after our environment, forming sustainable communities akin to the Garden of Eden.

And yet, humanity’s greed and thirst for power has meant that through prophets and in action, God tried time and time again to bring us back on track. Because of our hearts of stone, we would not hear, would not be moved, we were not ready to believe that alternatives were possible until confronted by a dying man on a cross, and even then…

When this period of Sabbath waiting ends, the women go to the tomb of their friends with spices in order to complete the burial rituals, and they can’t believe their eyes. The stone closing the tomb has been rolled away, the body is no longer there. Instead two figures of light asking them:

‘Why do you look for the living among the dead?’

Jesus has risen – and suddenly, all those cryptic statements he had been making for some time make sense. He had to be tortured and crucified in order for this to happen.

Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James and the other women were the first witnesses of the Resurrection and went to proclaim the good news to the men, still at home, who do not believe them. Peter goes to see for himself, and finally believes and goes home, amazed.

I wonder how you will feel as you go home tonight, after this celebration.

I wonder what the insights were for you in this Holy Week? What were the hight points? What were the low points? What have you discovered about yourself? And are you allowing yourself to be transformed once again by this lifechanging outpouring of God’s love for you and for all of us?

Has your own heart of stone been rolled away and replaced by a heart of flesh once again?

Keeping Holy Week and Easter in the heart of a city has been a constant reminder that what unfolded for Jesus took place in the midst of a bustling city too, a city controlled by an Empire seeking to build more and more power, an empire skilled at PR and propaganda, an empire that did not think twice about making examples of some for the sake of keeping others in submission.

An empire able to make of enemies their friends to achieve their ambition. An empire who would go on to persecute Christians until it eventually co-opted their religion…

Reading our Bibles in dialogue with what is happening in the world today reminds us of how little we humans have learnt over thousands of years, and how cycles of violence and oppression continue to be present even within the nations who consider themselves the most civilised.

In our media we have, in the past few months, seen sickening images and stories from many countries of the treatment of the sick, the stranger, the widow, the orphan, the imprisoned, those of a different skin colour, the members of the LGBTQ2S+ community or simply those who dare express a different opinion or have the wrong tattoo. Meanwhile the mega rich are getting richer and more powerful.

Let us not for one minute think that these chilling reminders of the fragility of the world and our institutions could not happen here in Québec or in Canada. They have, and they do.

Jesus’s resurrection gave hope to his disciples to continue to tell the Good News of God’s love, to live by his principles and to form communities that would become examples to the world, icons of what God intended, even if often we do this imperfectly because we are humans, not divine.

St Paul in his letter to the Romans reminds us that our old self has been crucified with him so that we might no longer be enslaved to sin. If we have died with Christ, we will also live with him.

Dear siblings in Christ, this night renews our hope that wherever there is pain, despair, oppression and death in the world, there is possibility of redemption and resurrection.

This is not a glib statement to spiritually wash our hands of cruel human actions which have and will sadly continue to have, devastating consequences on the lives of many who are caught in systems where they have neither power nor choice.

But instead, a reminder that as the Body of Christ on earth together, we have a role to play in contributing to bringing that Good News of healing, redemption and love to all in words and in action, in our turn to give God’s people knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of their sins, in the name of the one who died and rose again.

Through his resurrection, Jesus blesses us that we may be blessings to others.

Alleluia, Christ is Risen!
Christ is Risen indeed, Alleluia