The Great Vigil of Easter

"PASSAGES"
A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois; Saturday, April 3, 2010
Genesis 1:1–2:2; Psalm 33:1–11; Exodus 14:10–15:1; Canticle 8; Romans 6:3–11; Psalm 114; Matthew 28:1–10

Tonight, we remember, observe and celebrate a number of passages, or, perhaps we might better say “rites of passage”.

In our Exodus reading, we hear the account of the passage of the people of Israel through the Red Sea, its waters stacked up on either side as if they were a wall. That would be one passage.

Then, in our reading from St. Paul’s epistle to the Roman churches, we read of another passage, that which occurs in the rite of Holy Baptism, as we enter the water and are buried with Christ in His death. That would be another passage.

For the early Church, tonight also marked a passage, or a rite of passage, as new converts to the Faith were baptized, following a three year period of instruction. (We can safely say that the early Church took the Faith, and preparation for Holy Baptism, very, very seriously!)

Tonight’s Easter Vigil service marked the traditional time for the initiation of new believers into the household of faith, for it was at the Vigil service that persons were baptized. And, we would do well to remember, that many of those early baptisms took place in a river or a stream, where new believers were fully immersed into the water. And, once they arose out of the water, they were clothed in a white garment, which symbolized the purity of life which was to mark the other side of their passage through the waters.

Notice that these passages all have the characteristic of being a geographical passage. It is most clearly seen in the Exodus account: The people of Israel descend into the bottom of the Red Sea, and walk through – as we said a minute ago – as if on dry land. Once they had reached the other side, there was no going back to the fleshpots and the other comforts that were to be found in Egypt. (We would do well to remember that, as the people of Israel made their way around the wilderness, they often grumbled at their lot in that desert place, and they articulated a desire to return to Egypt, to its fleshpots, its leeks, cucumbers, and other foods.) No, the water closed in after them, not only destroying Pharoah’s pursuing army, but also creating a geographical barrier which prevented a return to their former lives in bondage.

Christians have long felt that the Exodus account mirrors their spiritual experience, as well. At least that’s what I make of St. Paul’s argument, heard in Romans, chapter six. He says that we are buried with Christ in His death, and we rise in a resurrection like His.

So far, the analogy fits, doesn’t it? We have a water crossing in each case: In the Red Sea experience, it is a crossing of the water on dry land. In baptism, it is a water crossing, a passage, which involves a descent into the waters and a rising up out of the waters, God bearing us up out of the waters as if on dry land.

Let’s pause for a moment here to make a point before we look briefly at what lies on the other side of those passages through water…..

Entering the water, either by walking into the midst of the piled up waters of the Red Sea, or in the waters of baptism, involves a large amount of faith. Consider: The people of Israel had never walked into a body of water in which a path had been created. Can you imagine doing such a thing? Perhaps the question arose: “What if the waters come crashing in on us as we make our way to the other side?” After all, it wouldn’t be very long before they would see just exactly that sort of thing happen, as Pharoah and his hosts are drowned in the sea, as it closed in on them.

Similarly, entering the waters of a river or a stream also involves a certain amount of faith. Here, the question could be: “Will I emerge from the waters alive?”

Putting this concern into a modern context, we might ask ourselves (even subconsciously) if God will honor His promises to us, made in baptism. (Perhaps we haven’t given that thought much consideration, but perhaps we ought to.)

Now, we turn then to the question of what lies on the other side of the water….

For the ancient Israelites, a long sojourn in the wilderness lay before them. Food from heaven, consisting of manna, was God’s provision for their physical needs, along with quail. Water from the rock nourished them. The bronze serpent on a pole saved them from snake bites as they looked to this symbol of salvation. God’s holy law was given on the holy mountain, Sinai. They were not in the Promised Land, not yet. There would be many challenges, and many occasions for backsliding and for sin, as they wandered around in the wilderness.

Not surprisingly, Christians have long characterized their live after baptism as a wilderness journey. Consider this hymn (see footnote1) as an example: Its first two lines read “Guide me, O thou great Jehovah, pilgrim through this barren land.”

Our life, once we have passed through the waters of baptism, is remarkably similar to the ancient wilderness experience. Here, we are fed with spiritual food, the bread from heaven, the Holy Eucharist. Here, we are fed with water from the rock, the rock of Holy Scripture. Here, we are given God’s holy laws to hear and to assimilate. Here, there are plenty of opportunities for sin and for backsliding, alas. But God is faithful and just, and forgives our sins, if we are willing to confess them. Here, we look to the symbol of our salvation, Jesus Christ on the cross (notice Jesus’ linking of Moses’ bronze serpent to His own death and redemption, as we see it in John 3: 14 – 15).

Here, we are on our way to the Promised Land, even as God’s people, having passed through the waters, were on their way to the Promised Land.

Thanks be to God.

AMEN.

(Footnote 1 - Hymn 690, Hymnal 1982)