A Noisy Easter
Easter can be a noisy affair. At the Easter vigil there is a point when we will shout Alleluia!, suddenly switch on all the lights, and make as much noise as we can. Then a huge organ fanfare will announce that we shall sing the Gloria again for the first time since Lent began. Easter hymns are loud and joyful. And this is right: Easter is the happiest season of the Church’s year. We celebrate because Jesus Christ has conquered the powers of sin, evil and death once and for all, and we will also live with him forever. That is the joy which underpins the whole Christian life.
A Quiet Resurrection
But if you look at the liturgy for the dawn service, that loud Alleluia!, the noise and the triumphant hymn do not actually mark the point at which the resurrection is announced. By this stage in the service the resurrection has already been proclaimed: quietly, with the lighting of the Easter candle in the darkness and the unaccompanied singing by one voice of the ancient Exsultet hymn. This mirrors Jesus’s resurrection in the night-time silence of a dark cave. His first resurrection appearances were small-scale and intimate, to Mary Magdalene in the garden or to small groups of his closest friends on the beach, on the road or in a closed upper room. No doubt the disciples and his other friends celebrated noisily later. But the moments of resurrection and of appearance were quiet instances of wonder.
Resurrection in our Lives
I think that this initial quietness of resurrection is also true in our lives. Recovery from a long illness or from a period of sadness, depression or grief, or acceptance of new limitations of age or circumstance, often involve a moment when things very quietly change within us, something moves, and we know a quiet healing. There might still be a long way to travel, but something within us has changed irrevocably for the better. Resurrections often happen quietly: I wish you a peaceful, joyful Easter.
Rebecca Lloyd
16 April 2017
