Why we celebrate the Easter Vigil
The Easter Vigil service is the first Easter service, and it takes place on the night of Holy Saturday.The idea behind the service is for faithful Christians to wait and watch, hopeful and confident that Christ will return at midnight.
The Easter, or Paschal, candle is lit during this service.The service traditionally begins outside the church, where the celebrant and some worshippers gather around a fire — a charcoal brazier is commonly used.The service begins with these words:
“Brothers and sisters in Christ, on this most holy night, in which our Lord Jesus Christ passed over from death to life, the Church invites her members, dispersed throughout the world, to gather in vigil and prayer. For this is the Passover of the Lord, in which through word and sacrament we share in his victory over death.”
The Paschal candle is lighted from the fire using a taper. The lighted candle is now a symbol of the risen Christ, light of the world who is come into the midst of the people.
The readings at the service tell of the creation of humanity, how humanity fell from grace, and was repeatedly rescued by God.The readings remind people of God’s promise to be with them always. |
It wasn't a postcard kind of Easter Sunday. There was no fragrance of spring blossoms, no warm sun and sweetness in the air, and the new Easter outfits of ladies and girls were well hidden under winter coats. Colder air had filtered in, and the steady rain that had forced the Paschal fire into the church vestibule into a slushy sleet by morning, and a layer of ice now covered the roads, cars, sidewalks, and parking lots.
A lot of people must have looked out at the weather and wisely decided to stay home, for the church was strangely empty for an Easter Sunday. And as I sat in a pew with the sleet melting on my coat, I wondered what in the world I was doing there.My family and I had driven several hundred miles the day before to say goodbye to a dear friend who would die in a few days.We had gone to the Easter Vigil the night before, and for some reason decided to come to Mass on Sunday morning as well. But getting out of the house, scraping the windshield, skidding down the street, and trying not to fall on our way into the church building took the last of my energy and good mood. My friend was dying. I was exhausted. Winter was back. So much for joy, so much for singing Alleluia.
At that point Diane came up the aisle, gave my wife a hug, and then reached over to take my hand in greeting. In that moment, my mood changed, and I remembered why we were there.
The night before at the Vigil we had seen Diane be baptized, confirmed, and receive the Body and Blood of the Lord for the first time.What a night it had been for her! The years of searching, the time of inquiry when she wondered if the Church might be where she belonged, her time in the catechumenate as she slowly learned the way of discipleship, the intensive preparation during the six weeks of Lent — all came together for Diane in that Vigil. When she came forward for Baptism she looked at the community surrounding her and supporting her — the body of Christ, the communion of saints in which she was about to fully share.
Her eyes filled with tears as she pledged her belief in God, Father, Son, and Spirit. Her voice trembled, but she spoke out loud and clear, renouncing darkness, embracing light, coming face to face with the Spirit of the risen Christ and being transformed by the encounter. And as she rose from the font everyone in the church could see her joy and catch a glimpse of what resurrection and new life look like.
So as I grasped Diane’s hand on that sleety Easter morning, I remembered why I was there. This wasn’t about being in a good mood. It wasn’t about pretending to be joyful or singing happy songs as if the sun were shining or the friend we had visited weren’t dying. And it wasn’t just a happy commemoration of something that happened to Jesus some 2000 years ago. No, the joy of Easter is far more profound than that.
