The lighting of candles will play an important part in this evening’s liturgy, symbolising the Easter faith that beyond our darkest experiences there is the promise of deliverance.
This emphasis on light is fitting as we see from the account of the first Easter Morning in St John’s gospel. “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.” The whole thrust of the Easter message is that that moment “while it was still dark” was the moment of discovery of real hope. St John had referred to Jesus as the light of the world and now his followers were to discover that the darkness of suffering and death could not overcome that light.
In his book Praying to the Lord of Life, Herbert O'Driscoll links the holy night of Christmas with that of Easter. "Even the words holy night are an echo of another night when light shone – the occasion of the mystery we call the incarnation. That was the night of the first birth, the first blazing of this light. This night (Easter Eve) is the second birth, the new birth, the second blazing of the light which is Jesus Christ. There can be more echoes for us from that other holy night in Bethlehem. On that night he lay in a manger, on this night in a tomb. On that night he was wrapped in the swaddling clothes of a child, on this night in the linen of the dead. From both manger and tomb he grows, rises and shines in the world. But the swaddling clothes and grave clothes are shed, and instead he is clothed in royal robes, in light and in majesty. On that night long ago shepherds and wise men came. On this night of resurrection millions come."
“While it was still dark”: this not only tells us the time of day but it also describes the mood of the disciples. They were shattered and had no idea what to do or where to go. But the women knew there were things to be done concerning the body of their loved one. That sense of duty is a very female gift; although heartbroken and grieving they had to pick up the pieces: life had to go on.
Let’s step further into St John’s account of that Easter morning. “So she [Mary] ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’”
There’s no hint here of expecting a joyful outcome. The opposite is the case: fear, doubt, suspicion, downright disbelief, these are the reactions that initially followed the discovery of the empty tomb. But gradually the mood changed as in different ways Jesus became again a living presence among them and the darkness gave way to the light.
In order to understand what Easter is really about we have to begin in the darkness of human experience. Easter can only make sense when we see it from the perspective of suffering and loss. When life is good we are far less likely to concern ourselves with what may lie ahead, and that is understandable, but when suffering or personal loss comes the difficult questions can no longer be avoided.
The hope that Easter brings is not wishful thinking on our part, it is given. The transformation of the followers of Jesus from despair to hope, from grief to celebration that reverberates to this day is fact. Easter invites us to imagine and live with hope and confidence for ourselves and those we love. That’s not easy “while it is still dark” but we should never forget that the Easter hope came to those early followers of Jesus when it was dark, very, very dark.
Christ is risen: The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.