From the Attic of our Faith - A Sermon for the Great Vigil of Easter

Allow me to set the scene for you. It’s dark. The only source of light is quickly dwindling candles. The stone room you’re in is large and open, with high ceilings, but it’s filled with people, so it feels small and close. You know some of the people in the room, but others you’ve never seen before. There’s a strong sense of anticipation in the room. Everyone has been waiting for quite a while, and the time has almost arrived. It’s been a long few weeks. 

And yet, the anticipation is not fearful, but joyous. There is singing, and delightfully, it’s some of your very favorite songs. People are reading aloud from holy scripture, and delightfully, it’s from some of your very favorite passages. Excitement is in the air, and also a sense of calm. You’re glad you’re here. Where is “here,” you ask? Why, a 7th century church in the Ancient Near East, of course! 

Now, if you thought I was describing our service this evening, you’re not wrong. The Great Vigil of Easter is one of the earliest known liturgies in the Christian Church. The way we celebrate together tonight is the same way our ancestors in the faith have been ushering in Eastertide for centuries. 

Our dear friend Ragan once described the older liturgies in our tradition as coming from the attic of our faith. I love this image. I think about it every year at the Vigil. It’s as if once a year, we climb up to the attic, dust off the cobwebs, and bring down the box of our oldest and most cherished memories of the faith and sift through them together. 

As early as the 6th century, Easter liturgies began the night before the feast day. The Lenten fast was taken quite seriously, so folks were genuinely hungry by the time the sun went down. Those who were new to the faith had been preparing for their baptism for a full year, so the atmosphere in the room was electric with anticipation. There was no actual electricity, and candles were a resource to be used wisely, but on this night, it was worth it to bring out all the candles and pull out all the metaphorical stops. 

These earlier Christians also valued pulling down traditions from the attic of their faith. They retold the ancient stories of deliverance and prophecy and Good News. They listened to the whole story of salvation that led up to that very moment in which the newest Christians were brought into the Body of Christ through water and the Holy Spirit. And they shared a Eucharistic meal together. Lighting candles, telling the story, baptizing, and sharing communion. As part of the record of faith that goes back generation after generation, these are the practices we participate in tonight.

But I think what I love most about imagining a 6th century Easter Vigil, is the excitement these earlier Christians could have felt. For most of Christian history, followers of Christ did not live in a world in which their faith was synonymous with their nationality or their government or their culture, as is the case for American Christians today. Plus, a long and healthy life free of violence could not be taken for granted. 

So for many, the discovery of Christian hope, the newfound understanding that God is a God of love and care for whom death is no match, well they must have been downright elated. And the community built around this hope and this love was so wonderful that people couldn’t wait to join it. I suspect that our sweet Matthew, with his joyful enthusiasm and contagious grin would have fit right in. 

As those of us here tonight know, there’s not much better than gathering together with the people we love to usher in a time of celebration and renewal. So those early Christians were clearly on to something. When they considered the Resurrection of Christ, the fact that God loves us so much, God was willing to contend with and defeat our nemesis of death, and leave nothing in its wake but love and hope for the future, our ancestors in faith knew that remembering this was worthy of preparation and celebration, and they went all out.

So do we. We are our best selves as Christ Church tonight. We are filled with the love of God and grounded in our Christian hope. We have brought light and beauty back into this space, we have told the incredible story of God’s saving works in the world. We have joyfully welcomed our newest member into the family, and in just a few moments, we will share the Eucharistic meal as Christ taught us. What a glorious night to be together. The Lord is risen, indeed. Alleluia! Amen.