Perhaps this is a bit late, but here is a reflection on the opening moments of the Easter Vigil at Holy Family. As a note, the "young girl" mentioned in the reflection is a member of the Senior T.Y.M. group.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound[1]. John Newton’s ageless words reverberate against the walls of my subconscious while the notes of a prelude are played within the church. A fervor seems to impel those walking through the doors, eager yet waiting; waiting for hope, or perhaps for salvation. The sound of conversation echoes through the open doors just outside the sanctuary as those who have prepared for their initiation continue to prepare, some in prayer and others with anxious smiles. The night of nights has come, though fleeting as it always is, only to await the morning. Grace has come.
Through the doors I notice a young girl, clothed in a robe of blue. She smiles, as do I in turn, the song continuing, louder now. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.” Moments of pleasantries pass and I ask if she is ready. She simply smiles and my heart fills with joy, spilling briefly into my eyes. Behind me, the sound of water bubbling fills my ears. Months of learning and reflecting have passed and the answer she musters is a toothy smile. Like so many before her, she has been saved—is being saved.
As I walk passed wooden rows, I notice a family of faces, each with eyes transfixed upon a hanging man. In the serenity of the dark, he looks peaceful and yet, I wonder if two thousand years ago he knew peace. Perhaps peace was foregone for the sake of the lost. Thus, thoughts on the nature of peace fill my mind as my knees sink into the soft kneeler, my soul following suit into the void of prayer. “I once was lost, but now am found.” I question the nature of being found and wish I could be like Newton. Yet alas, either lost or found, I am one or the other depending on the day and the moment. My eyes are opened to the sound of the shepherd’s voice beckoning his flock to come outside. From darkness to darkness I move, blind yet progressing still.
A fire begins to roar and a candle is lit. I cannot help but follow it as it moves back into the sanctuary, fighting the dark with each flicker of rippling illumination. “Was blind but now I see.” I take notice of the candle in my hand, its wick not yet scorched by the Easter flame. As it is lit and I move to a pew, I notice another family, faceless in the blinding light of the Easter flame bouncing on my candle. Within my mind the song shifts, blazing past the stanzas of grace-infused reflection only to stop abruptly. “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun.” Light begins to spread as each candle is lit, only to turn and pass its glow to another. The same Eater flame that lit my candle continues to multiply until hundreds of Easter flames consume the darkness. An aura of thanksgiving fills the sanctuary as hearts and candles alike are set ablaze, granting each asylum from the shadows. “We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise then when we’d first begun.”
The silence is shattered as the deacon invites the congregate to invoke the blessing of God. Drawn into the deepest mysticism, the antiquity of the Exultet prose is amplified by the booming voice of their cantor. Through closed eyes, in some deep recess of my mind, I imagine a paradisaical place where even the sin of Adam is regarded as a necessary and happy fault. It is in that place I take solace, that even amidst my sinful humanity my fears of damnation might be relieved. My soul cries out in thanks for this “night truly blessed, when heaven is wedded to earth and we are reconciled to God![2]”
Before I extinguish my candle, I notice the wax rolling down the side, unwilling to let go as it clings with intensity like the prodigal son to the legs of his waiting father. No longer slender and tall, it is seemingly disfigured and blackened and can never return to the state in which it was. It has been reduced from its once well-crafted state to a new kind of perfection in which the flame, like a sculptor with a block of stone, chiseled it from mere wax to a state of unique completeness. It has been transformed, and I with it.
As the proclamation of God’s salvific love begins, I cannot help but smile. Like the young girl dressed in blue though anticipating white, I too await the moment when darkness turns to light and silence into song as salvation is fulfilled. The journey continues, both hers and mine, and it is into the twilight we trudge, with hope that in the coming dawn we might find the stone rolled away. I quench my Easter flame, yet my heart continues to burn. Grace has come, how sweet the sound.
The grace of God is truly an amazing thing... gifted to each of us freely, and by nothing that we have done or can do. Praise God today for his love and mercy!
As always, more to come. Hope everyone is having a great week, and we look forward to seeing all of you high schoolers tomorrow at Senior T.Y.M.!
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