April 11, 2009
(Easter Vigil)
Through the Lens of the Cross
By
The Rt. Rev. Barry Howe,
Bishop of West Missouri
Romans 6:3-11 • Psalm 114 • Mark 16:1-8
(From
The Lectionary Page)
From darkness to light; from death to resurrection; from old life to new life---all the themes that keep entering into this incredible liturgy of liturgies symbolizing our life in Christ Jesus.
We started this sacred week by waving palm branches and shouting hosannas. Like those long ago in the streets of Jerusalem, we joined with them proclaiming the victory of God’s presence and ministry with us. And like those long ago hailing the appearance of Jesus—riding through the gates and entering the holy city—we also called out and affirmed the hopes for the special life and ministry of the long-awaited Messiah.
And again like those long ago who were filled with the belief that the world will be changed by the reign of God, we processed with assurance and certainty knowing that God is transforming the world, and transforming you and me to know the wondrous blessings of his saving grace. But as we waved palms and shouted hallelujahs, there was something very different about our victorious procession — something very different from those who reached out to touch Jesus and the donkey upon which he was riding.
That which was different for us at the outset of this week is our full and complete conviction by faith that victory is obtained by God not through worldly power; not by the might of military force; not be the destruction of some people at the hands of other people; and not by expectations placed upon Jesus that have no relationship to his character and work.
What was different and is different now about our participation in that procession is our reception of a God who transcends all the powers and forces of the world by the single act of sacrificing himself — sacrificing himself to express how much he loves us; how much the power of love unites us with him.
In our procession, it is that sacrifice of God for you and for me that becomes the focus and the lens through which we are to find ourselves; through which we are to define our world; through which we are to live our lives. For the power of love, transcending the powers of sin and evil and death, is victorious only through the cross. United with God through God’s love offered to us, our lives are to be offered back to God with that sacrificial love that saves us from ourselves.
Throughout this entire sacred week, it is the cross upon which we have gazed and upon which we have meditated in order to walk from darkness to light; in order to move from death to resurrection; in order to leave the old life and receive the new life; so that we might offer ourselves in the new life God gives to us.
In our epistle lesson this night, Saint Paul captures the essence of this procession from darkness to light; from death to resurrection; from old life to new life. What the apostle proclaims has been heard in the stories of our salvation history also repeated this night, and expressed in our liturgical actions.
Paul says: “We were buried therefore with Christ by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”
So we gather this blessed night understanding who God is; who we are; who we are called to be— through the focus and lens of the cross of Christ. With this focus and through this lens, we see the absolute futility of the powers of the world, and we see the absolute wonder and mystery of relinquishing ourselves and offering ourselves to the power of transcendent love. We are led to become captive to the saving grace of God, offered to us through Jesus Christ and the power of his spirit. As captives of this saving grace, we are to witness to the sacrificial love of God in proclaiming who we are, serving our God and savior.
There are those among us who are offering such a proclamation of witness — reaffirming their burial in Christ in baptism, and their being raised up to newness of life by the glory of the father. As they come forth for this confirmation of their lives, the rest of us have the opportunity to reaffirm our baptismal covenant, thereby also witnessing to the sacrificial love of God in proclaiming who we are. Through the focus and lens of the cross, as much as we are repulsed by the horrendous miscarriage of justice and by the humiliation of our lord Jesus, we are swept into the true drama of life and death, with the worldly powers taking our breath away from us, leaving us with nothing but our naked selves standing before God. We are left only to his mercy and grace. This is the place in our relationship with God where we seek to be. This is the place where the power of love then lifts us out of ourselves and transforms us— as the crucified Jesus was lifted from the tomb and transformed as the risen Christ.
I think the season of Lent and this sacred Holy Week has been most meaningful to many during this present time of economic unraveling and immoral excesses of selfish aggrandizement. We have seen clearly that when we seek a savior or saviors not by our focus upon and through the lens of the cross of Christ; when we seek a savior or saviors in response to the beckoning of the powers and forces of the world. We enter into the darkness and into death; we live out the old life that is taking the very breath of life from us. All those saviors have one element in common— they promise us that we can shrink the world and make it captive to us— a promise that can never be fulfilled. We are able to capture nothing! Through our focus upon the cross, God captures us, and it becomes clear to us that he frees us to be who he creates and empowers us to be. Stepping out of the tomb of darkness and death and defeat, we step into the reign of God, the reign of life-giving love for you and for me; the reign of life-giving love for all of God’s people and for all of his creation. This is where we arrive again this blessed night.
In the Eastern Orthodox section of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem— the church built in the fourth century on what is the assumed site of Golgotha, the Orthodox have placed a tomb in the midst of the their sanctuary. On this night the Archbishop Patriarch enters into that tomb in darkness, and all who are in the sanctuary stand in total darkness. And then with the thunderous roar of Alleluias the Patriarch emerges with the Paschal Candle ablaze, and candles and torches are lit.
You and I, symbolized by the action of the Patriarch in that ancient tradition, emerge now from the tomb that is dark and confining; the tomb that holds decaying death; the tomb where the world has placed us. And we enter into the reign of God, singing Alleluias and offering ourselves to the new life God is giving to us. God is united us to himself; empowering us to live new lives; promising us that his life-giving power of love will be present for us always.
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
