19-20 April 2025 – Easter Vigil
Romans 6:3-11; Luke 24:1-12
Our nights of passage
We are in the middle of a celebration that takes place in the middle of the night – a true ‘vigil’, therefore – during the passage from darkness to light. This passage is a symbolic expression of the long passage from darkness and original chaos at the beginning of Genesis to the light of the risen Christ on Easter morning.
The long series of readings from the Old Testament that we have heard have told us how the Jewish people constantly interpreted and reinterpreted what they were experiencing. They did so in the light of the revelation they had received of God's entry into their existence. Everything was perceived in terms of the passage from darkness to light.
This story begins with the separation of light from darkness in the initial cosmic chaos. Then there is the passage from the religious chaos of the many ancient religions to the light of God's revelation to Israel. Then comes the transition from the captivity in Egypt to the liberation of the Exodus. Another much more important transition comes next, that of the heart of stone to the heart of flesh animated by the Spirit. And finally the great transition of Jesus, from the darkness of death to the light of the Resurrection.
The memory of the past, taken as a whole, was important for the people of Israel. This memory gave meaning to the present and enabled the people of Israel to look forward to the future with hope. Each of our lives is also made up of these moments of darkness and moments of light, of Good Fridays and Easter Days. It is always dangerous to shut oneself off in the present moment, whether it is one of darkness or light. In one case, we risk discouragement; in the other, blissful enthusiasm that leads to disaster. We must live each present moment as a very small section of our personal history of salvation, which has a past and a future.
The same must be true of the Church and of Society. It seems that both are currently living their Holy Saturday rather than their Easter Day. In reality, they are in the night between the two. It is therefore in the name of our Church and of our entire Society that we keep watch tonight, placing what they are experiencing – what we are experiencing within them – in the broader and even more grandiose context of this beautiful story of salvation, the main features of which have been outlined in the biblical readings of this Eucharist.
Our society has now entered a vicious circle of violence from which it seems unable to escape. Of course, one might say, there has always been violence between people. Yes, but modern methods make it increasingly destructive and devastating.
We are pilgrims on the 8th day, approaching an empty tomb with the precious perfumes of our good will, our naivety and our compromises. The tomb is empty. The god of all our dreams and all our ideologies is not there and will not return. The true God has sent us a messenger (who, like the one in today's Gospel, has no name, unlike the one who spoke to Mary and Joseph before the birth of Jesus) that he will find us in our Galilee, that is to say our everyday life, on our fishing trips when we catch nothing or on our journeys when we think we are returning to an Emmaus, a home that we no longer have and will never have again.
In a world where we are all constantly tempted, in society as in the Church, to shut ourselves off in the present moment, which loses all meaning in its isolation, this celebration of the Easter Vigil puts us back in a beautiful and long history. This history opens us up to the expectation of something. Perhaps it is better not to speak too easily of hope. If we can remain open to the expectation of a new dawn and light, that will be a great deal. God himself will transform our expectation into hope, without us probably realising ourselves the transition from one to the other before we have fully entered the light.
Armand VEILLEUX