Homily, In The Darkness of Night
The Great Vigil of Easter, Year B, 2024
Good Shepherd Episcopal Church
Tequesta, FL
The Rev. Derek M Larson, TSSF
Today’s Lectionary Readings:
Exodus 14:10-31; 15:20-21
Ezekiel 36:24-28
Romans 6:3-11
Psalm 114
Mark 16:1-8
In the Darkness of Night, Part One
Why do we gather in the shadows, amidst the veil of night, to celebrate this holiest of feasts, the Great Vigil of Easter?
It’s because salvation often comes in the depths of darkness, just as it did when the Israelites trod the path of the sea, hemmed in by towering walls of water, their weary legs and sore feet carrying them over dry ground below the starry sky. The weight of fear pressing upon their hearts, each step forward a leap of faith into the unknown, leaving behind the bondage of the past, yet gripped by the uncertainty of what lies ahead. Freed from enslavement, but not yet grasping full freedom, the victory of God came to them while they were still weary, and unable to fully realize it. The victory of God came to them in the darkness of night.
Why do we celebrate in the darkness of night?
Because many centuries later, it was in the darkness of night that the Israelites dreamed of going home, to the land of their ancestors. It was in the darkness of exile that they received the promise of God to take them home, and to cleanse them with a new heart and a new spirit. The promise came not with certainty in the now, but with hope for the future. The hope of God came to them in the darkness of night.
Salvation, we often think, arrives in bright light with jubilant trumpets and waving banners, yet sometimes salvation creeps in when the silent tears of grief are still flowing. Sometimes it comes like a moment of laughter after days of crying for the death of a loved one. And when it comes, there’s a glimpse of relief, but its still mingled with weeping.
God’s salvation doesn’t come right away like the flip of a switch, but at first as a quiet whisper in the darkness, a gentle hand reaching out amidst the rubble of pain.
Tonight we celebrate the victory of God! But if tonight finds you still shrouded in the shadows, and with your heart heavy, know this: God’s salvation comes not in the brightness of day, but in the darkness of night. It’s a victory that precedes the dawn, and then ushers it in.
We celebrate the Great Vigil of Easter in the darkness of night because God’s victory comes early, often before we can even see the light of the sun.
In the Darkness of Night, Part Two
Why do we gather in the brightness of this place, to celebrate the Great Vigil of Easter, when the darkness of night still surrounds us?
It’s because, in the hush of night, Jesus lay in his tomb, enveloped in the silence of death, bearing the weight of humanity’s pain and sorrow. With stillness in the air. With hope lost. In the midst of despair. In the darkness of night.
Why do we celebrate when the darkness of night surrounds us?
Because it was in the darkness of night that Jesus burst from his tomb. Early, before the sun had even risen. Before the women had started toward the tomb, before the men had even awoken, Jesus burst from the grave and shattered the chains of death. Bringing life to where there had been death. Bringing joy to where there had been sorrow. Bringing healing to where there had been pain. In the darkness of night came the resurrection.
We celebrate at night because though the darkness has not yet fully surrendered to the dawn, the light of Christ heralds the promise of a new day, where joy will reign supreme and death will be no more. Tonight, when the world around us is still shrouded in darkness, we gather under the light of the resurrection because we recognize that it is in the midst of despair that the Easter proclamation is made.
Sometimes we talk about Easter as if everything has already been made right, as if the resurrection of Christ has immediately put to death the principalities of darkness and the suffering we experience. But we all know, even as we shout Alleluia, that there is still pain in the world. That there is still pain within us. That there is still darkness.
And yet, Christ is risen. Right there in the midst of it all, Christ is risen. Easter comes like a newspaper headline which reads, “War has ended!” And shouts of joy are lifted up even while still standing in the rubble. Even while cheeks are still wet with tears.
So tonight as we declare, Christ is risen, let us not naively neglect the pain of the world, but let us stand in the assurance of the hope of the resurrection with the conviction that we have work to do. The war has ended, but the rebuilding—the healing—goes on.
We celebrate the Great Vigil of Easter at night to remember that it is in the darkness that Jesus has risen, and it is for the darkness the Easter proclamation is made.
Thoughts on Faith 