As the church concludes Holy Week and prepares for the celebration of Easter, I thought that it may be helpful to offer a slightly different suggestion for participating in the Easter celebrations.  In our culture there is an implied obligation from the church (and often our families) to be physically present in church.  Thus, the celebration of Easter tends to be a grand and extravagant celebration — complete with brass and timpani — and our tendency is to get caught up in the pageantry of the service.  And as beautiful and lovely as Easter services are, unless the liturgy is offering us something that we can take back into our daily lives, we have kind of wasted our morning. 

My suggestion for Easter Sunday, although it may sound kind of counterintuitive, is to skip the pageantry of the principal service and attend the Easter Vigil service — preferably one that starts before sunrise on Easter morning.  The Easter Vigil is one of the oldest liturgies of the church and is designed to be experiential and engage our souls.  And although many churches have lost the willingness to make this service truly engaging (the energy and focus tends to be placed on the pageantry of the principal service), the fundamental and transformative elements of the ancient liturgy remain present — capable of creating the ”thin place” where you may encounter the Mystery of Easter. 

For those who may not be familiar with the Easter Vigil, I’ll introduce the basic form of the service.  The Easter Vigil begins outside with everyone gathered in the dark.  The first act of the Vigil is to kindle the new fire which is immediately apparent as a source of light and warmth.  It also harkens to the imagery of the Pillar of Fire whereby the Israelites were led in the wilderness.  Once the fire is kindled and blessed, a solitary candle is lit.  This candle is known as the Paschal candle and represents the light of Christ.  Once the Paschal candle is lit, the congregation processes into the dark church, following this single candle.  It is during this time that the liturgy becomes, well, realistic.  Since we are unaccustomed to functioning in the dark, as the congregation makes its way into the church, people are stumbling, running into things, and bumping into other people.  And although this entry may not be well orchestrated, it is real and tangibly reminds us of how uncomfortable we are with darkness.  It is an object lesson to which we should attend.

Once the congregation is settled in the church, people can’t help but take note of the single candle that is offering the only source of light for the entire space.  It is then that the ancient proclamation of Easter, known as the Exultet, is either sung or spoken.  This proclamation recounts God’s abiding presence in the world.  The conclusion of the Exultet is, in my opinion, the most powerful aspect of the liturgy.  When the Exultet is concluded, the priest moves toward the Paschal candle and lights her candle from the Paschal candle.  Most people, understanding the concept of lighting a candle, completely miss the miracle that transpires.  For you see, when the priest lights her candle, not only is her candle lit, but the light of the Pascal candle was not dimmed.  Suddenly, light in the space has doubled.  And then the miracle continues to unfold.  The priest then offers her candle to the other ministers participating in the service.  And again, the miracle transpires — the additional candles are lit and the priest’s candle continues to shine as brightly as it did prior to the priest sharing the light with others.  The participating ministers then share their light with the congregation and the individuals of the congregation pass their light on to their neighbors.  And everyone experiences the same miracle — the sharing of their light in no way diminishes their light.  To the contrary, the entire space is suddenly illumined — no longer is the congregation sitting in the dark.  Everyone in attendance participated in the miracle.  Sharing one’s light will not and cannot diminish one’s light.  And, receiving another’s light substantiates and validates one’s own light.  This is truly the miracle of Easter.  And everyone in the church is an active participant in the miracle. 

Now I will admit that 98% of the time the remainder of the service becomes a bit dull since the recounting of God’s abiding presence in the world tends to be delivered as a monotonous recitation of scripture readings instead of as stories that reflect our human experience.  Even if that is the situation in which you find yourself, I invite you to spend this portion of the liturgy reflecting on the miracle you witnessed and in which you participated.  Reflect on the reality that you are light; that you have light to offer the world; that when you dare to offer your light to the world, your light will not be diminished; and that when you are willing to receive another’s light, you will be sustained and supported.  Reflect on the ways in which your light, your gifts, may be offered.  Reflect on the fears you have that keep you from trusting your light and sharing your light.  Reflect on the addictions you have that reinforce your fears and keep you from sharing your light with the world.  And even if you are fortunate enough to attend a service where the stories of God’s presence are recounted, spend your devotional time during the week attending to what God is revealing to you.

By the time the Great Alleluia is joyfully proclaimed [Note: alleluia has not been uttered since Lent began], the first rays of dawn are streaming through the windows of the church.  Again, we are reminded that the essence of Easter is that the Light that came into the world was not snuffed out.  That the Light continues and that we are invited to live in the Light and to participate as light bearers in our world.  Easter is not about going to heaven when we die.  Easter is about actively participating in the Paschal Mystery — being willing to share our light in the world.  We are called to illuminate our world in our time.  We are called to receive the light and then take that light back out into the world and share it abundantly.  

Let us go forth into the world, living into and rejoicing in the power of the Spirit.  Alleluia!  Alleluia!