Easter Vigil

Tonight we tell the stories, all of the stories, of God’s triumph over death and everything that is opposed to God’s kingdom of peace and love and mercy and life without end.  The stories of God’s action in the world to save Israel from slavery, to bring life to dead and dry bones, to feed the hungry and make the lame walk.  The stories of the life and ministry and death of Jesus and how God raised him from the dead.  And the stories of you and me and all of the people who, as Paul says, are baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus – who are united with Jesus in his death in the hopes of also being united with him in his risen life.

Jesus came to Jerusalem to die, and to rise again, at the time of the annual celebration of Passover, and so – of all the Old Testament texts we read tonight – the story of the deliverance of Israel at the Red Sea is perhaps the most central.  It is, in some ways, a difficult story.  I remember preparing for the Easter Vigil at the first congregation where I served right after ordination, working with the member of our congregation who was reading the passage and our choir on a very festive musical setting of the response.  The reader’s son was there, maybe 9 or 10 years old at the time.  And he asked:  Why is everyone so happy about all the Egyptians drowning in the sea?

Which is a good question.  At one level, we can understand the sense of relief and amazement of the people of Israel, after a lifetime spent in fear of their Egyptian taskmasters, after being pursued by the elite forces of the most powerful army in the world, after being trapped between the pursuing horses and chariots and chariot drivers on the one side and the sea on the other and assuming that this was the end – finding themselves inexplicably on the safe side of the sea and seeing the dead bodies of their enemies washing up on the beach.  You can understand their thankfulness, their gratitude, their joy at being rescued by a means they did not forseee and a power they still did not fully comprehend.

And yet, what about the Egyptians?  Yes, the Egyptians wanted to preserve their domination over the people of Israel and so many others.  Yes, the Egyptians had been willing to kill the escaping Israelites and, by all reasonable expectations, were fully capable of doing so.  So perhaps they got what they deserved.  And yet, can the Creator of the Universe be celebrated for the deaths even of those who may well have deserved everything they got?

Some texts of Scripture focus on the joy and the exultation of Israel when they, against all odds and expectations, arrived on the safe side of the sea.  Other texts – even in the Old Testament – are more nuanced.  Texts that recognize that the love of God extends even to the Egyptians, even to those who are opposed to God’s will – and isn’t that all of us, in one way or another?

As many of the first Christians recognized, in their reflections on this text, Jesus is not only the Messiah of Israel, the fulfillment of all God’s promises to God’s beloved people.  But Jesus died and rose for all people, and in this story Jesus also identifies with the Egyptians, with those who deserve the death that Jesus accepted in our place, with all of us caught up in forces and powers larger than ourselves who often assume we’re doing the right thing and are actually doing great harm to our neighbors.

For Jesus did not escape death, he did not pass unharmed through the sea.  He was covered over by the sea, he succumbed under the waves, he really and truly underwent death.  And now he is raised and has gone to the safe side of the sea, where he invites us to follow him.

The prayer that our liturgy prescribes to follow the proclamation of the story of the crossing of the Red Sea on this Easter night is one that, I must confess, I need to work at in order to be able to read all the way through in a clear voice.  It has two parts.

One: “By the power of your mighty arm you once delivered your chosen people from slavery under Pharaoh, a sign for us of the salvation offered to everyone by the water of baptism.” The water of baptism is not just water, not just the water we use to wash off our sins the way we wash off germs when we wash our hands.  The water of baptism is the Red Sea – the water that separates us from the safe side of the sea, and the only way to get there is not to go over the sea, or around the sea, but through it – knowing that, one way or another, if we are joined with Jesus in his death, we will be raised with him and will know new life with him on the safe side of the sea.

And two: “Grant that all the peoples of earth may partake in the salvation of the Israelites and together dance on the safe side of the sea, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.”  Tonight the promise of salvation is not just for some, but for everyone – the promise that, in the end, all of God’s beloved children, saints and sinners alike, are invited to pass through the waters together and, one way or another, arrive together on the safe side of the sea, to dance together there and celebrate that we have all been delivered, we have all been freed, we have all been brought to safety through the unexpected and almost miraculous deliverance of God.

Tonight we remember and cling to the promise that Jesus has died and is risen for us – and that means for you.  That even now, even as the waters are swirling all around us, we are destined for and being called over to the safe side of the sea.  That even those who right now are chasing us and opposing us and trying to prevent us from escaping are also destined for and are being called over to the safe side of the sea.  That Jesus is risen, that Jesus is now on the safe side of the sea, calling us back to the faith of our baptism, that we have been joined with Christ in his death so we may also join him in his resurrection, and together join him to dance and exult together on the safe side of the sea.