A sermon on Easter Day seems almost superfluous, when the liturgy itself conveys so much of the Easter story and its significance, and when the words of the hymns, perhaps more than at any other time of year, speak directly to our hearts, and inspire us with joy and thanksgiving at the glory of the Risen Christ.
For the first time since the beginning of Lent, we can join together with Christians all over the world in the joyful cry, “Alleluia! Christ is risen.”
We declare the glory of the Resurrection, singing:
Jesus Christ, the king of glory, now is risen from the dead.
And we reflect on its consequences for us:
Endless is the victory, thou o’er death hast won.
In our conviction that Christ’s rising allows us to believe that “death has lost its sting”, we gaze around us at the beauty of the decorated church, and in particular, at the wonderful lilies, the symbol of Resurrection, each one donated in memory of a loved one whom we believe has passed into the joy of God’s heavenly kingdom, and shares Christ’s risen life.
This day is the climax of the Christian year; it is the foundation of our faith.
Only two days ago, on Good Friday, we gathered in penitent reflection before the stark wooden Cross, as we remembered Christ crucified, dying alone and in agony.
Today that Cross is symbolically alive with flowers, its gloom dispelled.
On Friday, we were aware that the Incarnate Christ experienced almost every aspect of pain and grief which human beings may encounter, and we gave thanks for the knowledge that he is able to share in, and to bear our earthly sufferings with us.
Today, however, we realise that in his rising from the dead, he also offers US the chance to share in his heavenly joys; that through his Death and Resurrection, he has opened for us the gate of heaven, and truly dispelled the darkness of death.
Here at St John’s last night, some of us took part in a children’s Easter Vigil, at which we remembered the Israelites’ passing through the Red Sea from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the promised land.
We lit and blessed the wonderful Easter fire, the first sign that Christ’s light has begun to shine again, after the dark events of Good Friday.
From it we lit the Paschal candle, which has burned here throughout the night, as a sign of the Resurrection.
Yet, the Gospel reading last night did not describe the risen Christ, as we encountered him in our Gospel this morning, speaking with Mary Magdalene.
We heard then of the women stealing to the tomb, while it was still dark, to anoint the body, only to discover that the stone at the entrance of the tomb had been rolled away and that the body of their Lord had disappeared.
An angelic messenger told them, “He is not here, but risen”, but without the appearance of the Risen Christ himself, the women are puzzled and afraid.
Last night we knew that the mystery of the Resurrection had begun, the light was dawning, and we shared in the women’s sense of wonder, but we still had to wait, with Mary Magdalene, for the full revelation of Easter Day.
The final painting by a member of the congregation in our Stations of the Cross this year, clearly captures this sense of the Easter Vigil – the tomb has been opened, light is streaming out into the darkness, and a tiny dove, representing the Holy Spirit, hovers, as at Jesus’ baptism, at the entrance to the tomb, as we wait for the mystery to unfold.
In the earliest days of the Church, new converts to Christianity were prepared during Lent for adult baptism by total immersion, which took place at the Easter Vigil, during the night.
Our modern baptism liturgy continues to reflect the imagery of Easter, as we proclaim, with St Paul, that those who are baptised die to sin and are buried with Christ in the waters of baptism, and then rise to a new life within the Christian Church.
I am told by those who have experienced total immersion baptism that there is indeed a moment where one wonders if one is going to drown, and that the joy and relief of coming up into the air do almost give the sense of being literally offered a new chance at life.
We can only imagine the power of those baptisms held at night during the Easter Vigil, which allowed the newly-baptised to rise with Christ on Easter Day, to join with their new Christian community in their celebration of the Resurrection, and to share for the first time in the Body and Blood of Christ.
But it is from this custom that the practice of renewing our baptismal vows on Easter Day has derived, and it offers us a wonderful opportunity to recall that we, too, have died with Christ, and risen with him, to a new life.
In the prayer over the water, we shall shortly hear again, as we did last night, how the Israelites passed through the waters of the Red Sea to find safety and freedom in the fulfilment of God’s promises, just as we may experience as we pass through the waters of baptism.
As we renew our commitment, and profess our Christian faith once again, we declare together that Jesus Christ “was crucified, died and was buried; he descended to the dead, but on the third day he rose again.”
Thanks to our Easter faith, we are able to proclaim that “we believe in the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.”
As, in a moment, we are sprinkled once again with the water of baptism, we can give thanks for our risen existence with Christ, and for the eternal hope it offers us, inspired by the glory of this day, and bound together as an Easter people:
Christ is risen, we are risen! Shed upon us heavenly grace,
Rain and dew and gleams of glory from the brightness of Thy face;
That we, with our hearts in Heaven, here on earth may fruitful be,
And by angel hands be gathered, and be ever, Lord, with Thee.
Amen.