Let There Be Light (Easter Vigil 24)

 

The Catholic tradition has celebrated the Easter Vigil in one form or another since the 4^th Century AD.  Because this holy feast marks the beginning of Easter, the liturgy has a special character and theme.  The liturgy aims to show that we keep a vigil waiting for our master's return.  We know that he will return at an hour we least expect.  Therefore, we keep our lamps full and burning, so that when he returns, he will find us awake and ready to open the door.  Then he will come in, seat us at his table, and proceed to wait on us (Lk 12:35-37).  

The liturgy itself unfolds in four parts, the first of which is a celebration of light.  The central symbol of this first part is the Paschal Candle, a symbol of Christ who is the light of the world (Jn 12:35).  The first words of the Exultet emphasize the symbolism of the Paschal Candle which opens our journey into the mystery of this great feast—Let the earth be glad, as glory floods her, ablaze with light from her eternal king.

These words—ablaze with light from her eternal king—call attention to the first reading from Genesis.  Out of darkness, God said:  Let there be light, and there was light.  The light of Christ, the Anointed One, the Son of Man and the Son of God is the source of our celebration.  Because Christ is the light of the world, we are called to embrace iHii   what and who His light reveals.  His light leads us to acknowledge that we are children of the light, made in the image and likeness of God (Mt 5:14).  For this reason, we are called to embrace the breadth and depth of His light and His Spirit as we journey with Jesus.  In turn, our light leads others in their journey to the Father (Mt 5:16).

Like the ancient Hebrews, however, we often face challenges on our journey.  Each of us faces our own Red Sea, and when we do, the light of Christ helps us navigate the rough waters.  Indeed, sometimes we don’t even realize who helped us.  Sometimes we mistakenly think we helped ourselves, we did it all on our own.  Often, however, the single set of footsteps in the wet land of the pushed back waters belong to the one who carries us—Jesus Christ, the light of the world.  Whether we follow his light is a choice that each of us makes (Jn 1: 9-12).

And so, what do we do when we get to the other side of our Red Sea (and, by the way, sometimes we go through the Red Sea more than once)?  One thing we do is accept the fact that we are not alone, not abandoned.  We stop judging ourselves and others, and we treat ourselves and each other the way God treats us—with great tenderness and enduring love.  We reject oppression.  We become peacemakers.  We accept the truth that God’s love is without cost.  We seek the Lord where he may be found.  We live in the light of Christ and are able to perceive that God is still near.  For whether we are in the Red Sea or on the other side, God calls us to listen to His beloved Son “that we may have life”.

This is our call to a new way of living, and Ezekiel helps us understand how to live this new life.  As Ezekiel tells us—we allow God to remove our stony hearts and restore our natural hearts.  This natural heart, infused with the Spirit of God, is the heart God gave us at our creation. It’s just that sometimes, on the journey, struggles and disappointments in life often lead to bitterness and resentment, and these become stones in our hearts.  Stones in our hearts make it harder to love ourselves and others.  The Lord tells us that he will cleanse us, remove our stony hearts, and give us new hearts, natural hearts.  With renewed, natural hearts, we can do the will of the Father as revealed to us by Scripture, especially when it comes to how we treat others.

We know from scripture what Jesus expects of us in that regard—feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, welcome the stranger.  Doing the will of the Father in these ways is made easier with the hope of the Resurrection.  The young man sitting in the empty tomb tells the women who approach—nothing to see here.  The vision offered in this situation is not one of death, but of life.  Not one of despair, but of hope.  And that is our calling—to be visionaries of life and hope to all, especially to those who are near and dear to us.

This is why the third part of our celebration tonight involves those who have embraced their calling to this new way of life.  The third part of our Liturgy includes the rites of Baptism and confirmation, during which the newest members are welcomed and confirmed in their Catholic faith.  These rites mark a highlight in their journey to become full members of the Catholic faith community.  This part concludes with the sprinkling of the newly blessed baptismal water and the renewal of baptismal promises for all of us.

On a personal note, celebrating the rite of initiation often makes me wonder what leads one to become Catholic.  When pressed for an explanation, some say their decision comes from having found a spiritual home in the Catholic Church, many for the first time in their lives.  Others would say their spouse, or their children inspired them to become Catholic.  Still others might claim that Church teaching on issues close to their hearts is so compelling that their choice was an easy one.  Whatever the explanation, I suspect that such a choice ultimately boils down to a matter of conscience.  One way or another, the choice just must feel right in our heart of hearts, our natural hearts.

These new members will continue to reflect on their experience of conversion during the Easter season.  They will consider how they might get involved in ministry and outreach to make the faith their own.  Making the faith one’s own, however, is truly a life-long spiritual process.  In a sense, all the readings tonight are a story about this process—a story about the Lord finding each of us and each of us finding the Lord.  These readings illustrate the wax and wane of our spiritual journey that ultimately leads to spiritual healing.  All healing comes from the hound of heaven, the true Star of Bethlehem, who continually reveals himself to us and shines his light to show us the way to the Father.

Spiritual enlightenment comes with the light of Christ who strengthens our faith and our resolve to follow him more closely in our daily lives.  This is a primary focus of the vigil we keep tonight, both for the Elect as well as for those of us who are already Catholic.  We all need the light of Christ to grow in faith.  Conversion means leaving behind an old way of life and taking up a new one.  The new way that we seek is the way of the Lord.  This conversion is a spiritual rebirth and gift from Jesus Christ, the Light of the World.  Our hope is to embrace this light and once again celebrate our Easter gift of faith.

God's Mercy is Wide (B 5 Lent 24; Jn 12:20-33)

Phillip and Andrew do a very ordinary thing when they tell Jesus some Greeks want to see him.  We are not told why they want to see Jesus or whether they ever do.  Even so, the expected response to such an ordinary request is to say, sure, tell them to come on in.  Once again, however, Jesus does not give the expected response.  Instead, he uses this opportunity to explain what it means to see him.

In essence Jesus says to Phillip and Andrew, I am in Jerusalem at this moment to fulfill the purpose for which I came into the world.  Therefore, seeing me is not a matter of satisfying an idle curiosity.  Seeing me is an encounter that is transformative because seeing me demands a choice.  When you see me, you must decide whether to follow my way or to follow the way of the world.

Like those who first encountered Jesus long ago, we know that following the way of the world puts us at odds with following Jesus.  The world focuses on competition, status, control, power, and wealth.  Everything the world offers is temporary.  Following Jesus, on the other hand, is to embrace a life of service born of love—love of God above all, love of neighbor, and love of his creation, our earthly home.  Love endures forever (1 Cor 13-13).

The choice to follow Jesus by imitating his love can be a challenge at times, especially when it comes to love of neighbor.  For one, who “neighbor” includes is not always clear.  We know, however, that Jesus means more by neighbor than just family, friends, and benefactors.  He makes it plain that neighbor also includes those who oppose our interests, our enemies, and those who are least in God’s kingdom (Mt 5:44). 

More than once, Jesus identifies the least in terms of the poor, the hungry, the orphan, the widow, the foreigner, the naked, the ill, the imprisoned.  In modern terms, the least are those who are disadvantaged because they lack the necessities of life—those who have no healthcare, or nothing to eat, or inadequate housing, or inferior educational opportunities, or are denied a living wage.  To ignore others in these essential ways is to turn our backs on Jesus himself (Is 58:7; Mt 25:40).

Jesus urges us to go one better by imitating the Good Samaritan who went out of his way to care for the stranger beaten and robbed.  The response of the Good Samaritan reveals the everlasting bond between love and mercy. This connection is the basis for the observation that Jesus himself made—blessed are those who show mercy, for mercy shall be theirs (Mt 5:7).

In fact, the phrase “Forgive us our sins” is the beginning of a plea for mercy that we condition on the mercy that we show others.  This plea is a stark reminder that we ask God to forgive us in the same way that we forgive others.  Jesus gives emphasis to this point when he says, “as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you” (Mt 7:2). 

This is the foundation of the new covenant that Jeremiah calls attention to in the first reading: “The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel.” We know in our hearts what this means.  Throughout his life and mission, Jesus describes this new covenant in terms of three virtues: love, mercy, and fidelity.  These are covenant words with special meaning.

The covenant word “love” refers to the steadfast love of God.  God is unwavering in his love for us.  The covenant word “mercy” comes from the Hebrew word for womb.  This suggests that God has an intimate relationship with us as a mother with her child.  The covenant word “fidelity” means that God remains faithful to his covenant with us, no matter how unfaithful we may be in that respect. 

The new covenant with God compels a similar response on our part (Ps 103:4;8).  To that end, love is the hand that shapes and guides our character and actions in living out our covenant with God.  God pours his love into our hearts, so that we can love him and love others.  God’s love for us inspires us and empowers us to honor our relationship with Him and with our neighbor.  Indeed, following the path of love is the only way to follow Jesus.

Lent is a reminder that when we fail to follow the way of love and mercy, we can call upon our Lord Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit to mend our ways.  The abiding Spirit of Jesus helps us restore and renew our covenant with God.  The Holy Spirit enables us to love, to be merciful and gracious as God himself is merciful and gracious; kind and faithful as God is kind and faithful.  We love God more than we know about God.  In all things, we pray that our love will be like the love of Jesus—creating, redeeming, renewing.  If we aim to be like Jesus in these ways, we shall indeed see Jesus, both in ourselves and in others.