The Rev. Mariclair Partee
This is the night.
This is the night- as we heard in the ancient hymn of praise called the Exsultet just moments ago- when we rejoice with choirs of angels and all the company of heaven that Jesus Christ has risen, and lives again. This is the night when two Marys travelled to a tomb with spices and oils to anoint the body of their crucified Lord, and found instead an angel with news of resurrection. This is the night when our faith was formed in Jerusalem 2000 years ago, and we form it again every Triduum as we kindle the new flame out of the darkness, and watch as that single flame grows into a flood of light and we are reminded, once again, that though Christians preach Christ crucified, we are defined by Christ resurrected.
In talking with a wise friend about what I should preach tonight, he said, “Say nothing! On this of all nights the symbols do all the preaching that is needed!”
And it is tempting, to bask in the silence after that beautiful chanting and drama, and appreciate the hard work of the altar and flower guilds and all the other guilds that made tonight’s splendor possible, and say nothing for fear of spoiling the message!
However, as the newest priest on staff, I figure I should earn my keep, so let me say this:
Historically the newest members of the Christian faith were inducted on this night, so that they could begin their new life as Christians as all Christians re-lived the mystery of Christ’s resurrection that gave birth to our religion. Anyone who has ever worked diligently through a confirmation class will feel they got off easy when they hear that these earliest catechumens spent three years in preparation and classes. For three years, they were led out of the church after the liturgy of the word, denied sharing in the Eucharistic feast, until they were deemed ready by their teachers.
We have a first hand account of the process from Egeria, a 4th century pilgrim to Jerusalem:
“On the first day of Lent, the candidates [who have been prepared] are led forward in such a way that the men come with their godfathers and the women with their godmothers. Then the bishop questions individually the neighbors of the one who has come up, inquiring: "Does he lead a good life? Does he obey his parents? Is he a drunkard or a liar?" And he seeks out in the man other vices which are more serious. If the person proves to be guiltless in all these matters . . . the bishop . . . notes down the man's name with his own hand. If, however, he is accused of anything, the bishop orders him to go out and says: "Let him amend his life, and when he has done so let him then approach the baptismal font."”
Those who are deemed proper candidates for baptism then spend the entirety of Holy Week reading the Scriptures and thinking on holy things, so that their minds and bodies are ready for the transformation that is coming.
Other historical documents have allowed us to piece together what happened on the night of the vigil itself, when these initiates were asked questions much like we just were in our renewal of our baptismal vows, then stripped of their clothing to enter the darkened baptistry, stepping one by one down the steps into a pool- not a font like we have here, but a pool large enough for an adult to be submerged in. With each step the water would rise higher on the candidate’s body, until it covered the head. At this point the candidate would probably feel like he or she was drowning, with no sense of the direction to the steps and safety in the darkness. At some point in this confusion and panic, the priest would offer a hand and pronounce the words: “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”, and the new Christian would be anointed with holy oil and led from the pool- reborn into a new life in Christ. Then she or he would be wrapped in a new, pristine garment of white cloth, and led into the blinding light of the church, illuminated by hundreds of candles, to participate in the Lord’s supper for the first time.
You can imagine the joy of the new Christian, half-drowned but safe, and clean, and dry, and surrounded by warmth of candlelight and community, warmed inside by the presence of the Lord.
It is no coincidence that this moment in the life of our church happens as the Earth around us is waking from the deep sleep of winter, and the sun is warming the ground so that the grass greens up, the daffodils and tulips and hyacinths spring from the dirt in a riot of color and scent, and nature begins to come to life again. That in itself is the richest sort of symbolism- the whole earth is welcoming the resurrection of Jesus Christ by reminding us of the Loving Creator who made it. And so again we are reminded of that Creator’s love for us, in the sacrifice and resurrection of his son, our Lord on this night-
For tonight our Risen Lord has conquered sin and death, and assured us of everlasting life in him!
