From That Night to This Day
March 31, 2013
“This is the night…this most holy night.”
In the Easter Vigil we remember the Passover. We affirm its significance not only for the exodus of the Hebrews but for all the peoples of the earth, for each of us who desperately need deliverance from the bondage of corruption. “For this is the Passover of that true Lamb of God, by whose blood the homes of all the faithful are hallowed and protected. This is the night when of old you saved our fathers, delivering the people of Israel from their slavery, and leading them dry-shod through the sea. This is the night when Jesus Christ vanquished hell and rose triumphant from the grave. This is the night when all who believe in him are freed from sin and restored to grace and holiness.”
For forty days the Church has been on a Lenten journey where we each recall that we are dust, and to dust we will return. And on this night before Easter morning, where the Church celebrates the triumph of life over death in the resurrection of Christ, we keep vigil rehearsing the story of the gospel.
The Vigil liturgy guides us through the story of redemption by means of various Scripture readings, from creation through God delivering Israel from bondage in Egypt, to the prophetic promises of a new day when God’s people will be cleansed from their stubborn rebellions and receive Yahweh’s blessings. Just after we sing the Gloria – and before we hear the Gospel reading and a homily, share in the baptism of the newest Christians, and reaffirm our own baptismal vows – we reflect on the words of Romans 6.
If the Easter Vigil liturgy is a rehearsal of the story of redemption, the reading of Rom 6:3-11 serves to remind us why we rehearse. Good rehearsals are meant to accomplish something. The symphony orchestra doesn’t rehearse without the prospect of a performance. Actors rehearse to put on the play. The team practices to go and play the game. The church, as she confidently awaits Easter morning, rehearses the gospel in order that, as we are told in Rom 6:4, “we too might walk in newness of life.”
Romans 6 is one of those passages (I think of Ephesians 2:1-10 as another example) that clearly instructs us about why the resurrection of Christ matters. It matters because our own passage from death to life hinges on the reality that Christ was himself dead but arose to new life. And, Paul reasons, “if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” Once “baptized into Christ Jesus” (Rom 6:3), we now “walk in newness of life.” Yes, Christ defeated death on that momentous day. Yes we have the promise of the resurrection of the faithful in a glorious day yet to come. But death’s defeat and resurrection promise, Paul tells us, matter as much today as any day past or any day to come.
Today we who were dead live again. In Christ, we live.
Christ died and was raised from the dead to reverse the corruption that permeates the world and to make possible the age-to-come promised in Scriptures. While it is thankfully true, as our baptism signs, that God gives us power to say “no” to sin, Christ did not triumph over the grave simply to keep us from saying unkind words, or hating my neighbor, or robbing a bank. Because we have been buried and raised with Him, we can indeed say “no” to sin in our everyday struggle with it. What’s more, we can quicken justice where there was injury, righteousness where there was crookedness, good where there was corruption, peace where there was strife, kindness where there was discourtesy, love where there was none. These are marks of resurrection in our everyday, as the death of this world concedes its defeat to Christ’s resurrection power. We walk in newness of life in the here and now, even as we await that glorious day to come.
This is why we rehearse, on Easter and on each Lord’s day. Because those who have no food will die unless fed. Those who live in the cold will die unless clothed and given shelter. Those who exist among the ravages of war will die unless peace is settled. Those who face injustice will suffer unless righteousness is brought to bear. Those who live in sin’s grip will be hardened and crushed unless they find forgiveness. Those who lament the daily cruelty of indifference of those around them will languish unless we love them. There is suffering in this world, and we have been raised to new life so Christ’s resurrection power is multiplied to meet it. He meets us in our death, and He sends us into the world in peace, to love and serve Him.
Today, as we were reminded at the Easter Vigil, let us recall our own baptism and the reality of the resurrection it signs. Let us enact the power of that resurrection in the everyday-ness of life. We have passed through Lent, with its reminders of the rich story of redemption, and we confidently anticipated a new day, a day marked by the power of Christ’s resurrection. We kept vigil – we watched and waited – and we have seen the dawn of Easter once again. We are rehearsed and ready to, this day, “walk in newness of life.”
In the Easter Vigil we remember the Passover. We affirm its significance not only for the exodus of the Hebrews but for all the peoples of the earth, for each of us who desperately need deliverance from the bondage of corruption. “For this is the Passover of that true Lamb of God, by whose blood the homes of all the faithful are hallowed and protected. This is the night when of old you saved our fathers, delivering the people of Israel from their slavery, and leading them dry-shod through the sea. This is the night when Jesus Christ vanquished hell and rose triumphant from the grave. This is the night when all who believe in him are freed from sin and restored to grace and holiness.”
For forty days the Church has been on a Lenten journey where we each recall that we are dust, and to dust we will return. And on this night before Easter morning, where the Church celebrates the triumph of life over death in the resurrection of Christ, we keep vigil rehearsing the story of the gospel.
The Vigil liturgy guides us through the story of redemption by means of various Scripture readings, from creation through God delivering Israel from bondage in Egypt, to the prophetic promises of a new day when God’s people will be cleansed from their stubborn rebellions and receive Yahweh’s blessings. Just after we sing the Gloria – and before we hear the Gospel reading and a homily, share in the baptism of the newest Christians, and reaffirm our own baptismal vows – we reflect on the words of Romans 6.
If the Easter Vigil liturgy is a rehearsal of the story of redemption, the reading of Rom 6:3-11 serves to remind us why we rehearse. Good rehearsals are meant to accomplish something. The symphony orchestra doesn’t rehearse without the prospect of a performance. Actors rehearse to put on the play. The team practices to go and play the game. The church, as she confidently awaits Easter morning, rehearses the gospel in order that, as we are told in Rom 6:4, “we too might walk in newness of life.”
Romans 6 is one of those passages (I think of Ephesians 2:1-10 as another example) that clearly instructs us about why the resurrection of Christ matters. It matters because our own passage from death to life hinges on the reality that Christ was himself dead but arose to new life. And, Paul reasons, “if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” Once “baptized into Christ Jesus” (Rom 6:3), we now “walk in newness of life.” Yes, Christ defeated death on that momentous day. Yes we have the promise of the resurrection of the faithful in a glorious day yet to come. But death’s defeat and resurrection promise, Paul tells us, matter as much today as any day past or any day to come.
Today we who were dead live again. In Christ, we live.
Christ died and was raised from the dead to reverse the corruption that permeates the world and to make possible the age-to-come promised in Scriptures. While it is thankfully true, as our baptism signs, that God gives us power to say “no” to sin, Christ did not triumph over the grave simply to keep us from saying unkind words, or hating my neighbor, or robbing a bank. Because we have been buried and raised with Him, we can indeed say “no” to sin in our everyday struggle with it. What’s more, we can quicken justice where there was injury, righteousness where there was crookedness, good where there was corruption, peace where there was strife, kindness where there was discourtesy, love where there was none. These are marks of resurrection in our everyday, as the death of this world concedes its defeat to Christ’s resurrection power. We walk in newness of life in the here and now, even as we await that glorious day to come.
This is why we rehearse, on Easter and on each Lord’s day. Because those who have no food will die unless fed. Those who live in the cold will die unless clothed and given shelter. Those who exist among the ravages of war will die unless peace is settled. Those who face injustice will suffer unless righteousness is brought to bear. Those who live in sin’s grip will be hardened and crushed unless they find forgiveness. Those who lament the daily cruelty of indifference of those around them will languish unless we love them. There is suffering in this world, and we have been raised to new life so Christ’s resurrection power is multiplied to meet it. He meets us in our death, and He sends us into the world in peace, to love and serve Him.
Today, as we were reminded at the Easter Vigil, let us recall our own baptism and the reality of the resurrection it signs. Let us enact the power of that resurrection in the everyday-ness of life. We have passed through Lent, with its reminders of the rich story of redemption, and we confidently anticipated a new day, a day marked by the power of Christ’s resurrection. We kept vigil – we watched and waited – and we have seen the dawn of Easter once again. We are rehearsed and ready to, this day, “walk in newness of life.”
