This year, for the first time in 55 years, I will miss the Easter vigil, the apex of the liturgical year in Catholic, Episcopal and Lutheran churches. There is a family wedding. I could grouse, but better to call on 55 years of wonderful memories to attend the vigil in mind and spirit.
If you have never experienced an Easter vigil, come along with me on memory lane.
(These memories are drawn from experiences in two Tucson parishes where I worked as liturgist or organist over a period of 25 years, and the parish I currently attend.)
A fire is lighted in a cauldron at the far end of the church parking lot. The priest prays in the light of the flame, “On this most sacred night … sanctify … this new fire … we come together to watch and pray … Word … sacred mystery … Christ yesterday and today … (the Easter candle is lighted from the fire, and lifted up) … may the light of Christ dispel the darkness of our hearts and minds …” (Sacramentary, National Conference of Bishops).
People are also reading…
The flame is then passed from the Easter candle to small candles held by all in the congregation. Led by the great candle, which we carefully shield from an evening breeze, we process across the parking lot and into the darkened church, filling the space with hundreds of flickering torches. The chant of the ancient Exulted begins: “This is the night … O truly blessed night, when things of heaven are wed to those of Earth.”
Overhead lights slowly come on, candles are extinguished, and the Liturgy of the Word begins. Time melts away (no need for watch or cellphone tonight) as we hear proclaimed the history of salvation from creation to Jesus’ empty tomb, in seven readings from the Jewish Scriptures plus a New Testament Epistle and a Gospel reading, punctuated by Psalms and songs sung by choir and congregation.
Two of the readings tonight are sung rather than read. One rowdy call-and-response song, with lots of joyous clapping, tells the story of the parting waters of the Red Sea: “Sing a song of freedom …. God has won the victory … Horse and chariot! … pain and slavery! … hate and prejudice! … are cast into the sea!” (If you want to hear this song led by the composer himself, you can find it online at: Youtube Exodus Reading for the Great Vigil, Rory Cooney.)
The Isaiah 55:1-11 reading is proclaimed in song as well: “Oh let all who thirst, let them come to the water. And let all who seek … all who have nothing … all who toil … all who are weary… “ ("Come to the Water," John B. Foley, and New Dawn Music, 1978). This, too, you can listen to on YouTube.
Between the seventh reading and the Epistle, the Gloria which has been silent for the past 40 days bursts forth anew, accompanied by bells brought by parishioners and members of the choir.
After the Gospel reading and a chanted Litany of the Saints, those who have been prepared for baptism are called forth. The water is blessed and poured. (In one of the parishes that I worked, the initiates were fully immersed in a baptismal pool). “I baptize you in the name of the Father … and the Son … and the Holy Spirit” is followed by thunderous applause from a welcoming congregation.
The initiates are anointed with blessed oil (“the chrism of salvation”) and clothed with a white garment, perhaps a stole decorated by the initiate’s family or friends (“You have clothed yourself in Christ”).
The liturgy now proceeds in the ordinary way — if you can call anything that happens here tonight ordinary — through the Preface (“Every land, every people exults in your praise”), the Sanctus (“Holy, Holy, Holy”), the Eucharistic Prayer (“bread of life … spiritual drink”), the Acclamation of Faith (“You have set us free”), the Lord’s Prayer (“on Earth as it is in heaven”), the shared Greeting of Peace, and the Lamb of God (“Grant us peace”). Finally the procession to Communion, the consecrated bread and wine now become for us the presence of the risen Christ. The newly initiated receive first, followed by the congregation.
The dismissal chanted by deacon, “The Mass is ended, go in peace, alleluia, alleluia” is echoed in the congregation’s chanted response, “Thanks be to God, Alleluia, Alleluia!”
The closing hymn raises the roof. “Re-su-ci-tó! (He is risen!) Re-su-ci-tó! Re-su-ci-tó! Al-le-lu-ia” is followed by joyous greetings of “Happy Easter!” all around.
A blessed Easter (vigil and day) to everyone.
Tucson faith leaders, we would like to include your original sermon or scriptures of encouragement. Sermons must be written by the person submitting them, not borrowed from another source or writer. If you are a faith leader from any religion or denomination, please contact Sara Brown at sbbrown@tucson.com.
Such traditions as the Procession of the Cross up "A" Mountain and Easter services are important to many Tucsonans. The youngest of us, however, are more interested in hunting Easter eggs.
Carolyn Ancell