Easter Vigil Sermon

         Tonight, in our liturgy, we celebrate a number of things: our long and shared history as God’s people, the first awareness of the Resurrection, the renewal of our baptismal vows, and the perpetual dominance of light over and through darkness.

         We use candles, an ages-old tradition, to bring us that transition from darkness to light. But we also recognise the beauty and subtlety of the light, as it overcomes the darkness.

         Darkness, as we know, is important. It's not something we see a lot of, if we think about it. Oh, there are darkER times and lighter times, but true darkness - is rare.

         Yet in darkness, amazing things can happen. Things we cannot comprehend, things we do not understand, but things that shock and surprise us when they come to the light.

         I don't mean negative things - I mean things waiting until the right time to come into the light. Think, for example, of a chick in an egg - or child in the womb. When the time is right, they will know, and they cannot be rushed into new birth. Consider also what happens with seeds - we plant them, deep under ground - not to hide them away, but with full knowledge that they need to be in that darkness as they begin to germinate, in order to produce the fullness of their potential. Locked away, until the right time.

         And, of course, the tomb. The tomb where Jesus lay for 3 days. It was hewn from rock - with a large stone at the door - so no daylight was getting in any cracks, there was no moonshine, or stars twinkling. Just darkness. Until the right time, the opportune time, the time when the scriptures would be fulfilled and the light of Christ would burst forth into the world.

         Except: it seeped into the world. Not unlike the light of a candle, in a dark room. It started small, with just a few witnesses, and gradually - as more and more people saw and believed - the light grew.

         Candles are like that - they start small. But they are consistent. They are a thing of beauty, of safety, of assistance. They lose nothing when they light another candle. They continue doing what they do.

         Much like our faith. This is why we have candles in our churches, and continue - despite this era of electricity - to use candles, to surround ourselves with them, to intentionally light and share a candle at time of baptism.

         Because a candle is not just a light: it is symbolic of the light of Christ. It is a reminder of all the times in our history where we have seen the light edging forth into darkness, refusing to be overcome. The candles, with this connotation, enhance even the sun. As St. Paulinus in the 4^th century declared, noting the numerous candles in the church: “They shine by night and day; thus night is radiant with the brightness of the day, and the day itself, bright in heavenly beauty, shines yet more with light doubled by countless lamps."

         So we surround ourselves with candles - to remind ourselves that we are surrounded by light. Though we generally no longer rely on physical candles to keep us from stumbling in the darkness, we do rely on the light of Christ - as brightly as we will let it grow in our lives - to guide and protect us.

         So tonight we acknowledge the darkness, and know that it has a great purpose. And we acknowledge the light, and know that we ought never take it for granted. And we celebrate the light of Christ - in the paschal flae, in our baptismal candles, in our hearts and ministries - and know that it continues to shine because we want it to shine.

         So may we celebrate that we carry the light of Christ - letting that light so shine before others, that they may see our good works, and glorify our Father in Heaven.

         May we boldly carry the light of Christ - ever-present and empowering and sustaining - thanks be to God.