I never experienced an Easter Vigil, in the liturgical sense, until I was in my thirties. Now my children are that age, I realize I’ve been waiting through them my entire life. Dark lents have come in many forms. But unannounced, when the world is darkest, that crucial moment creeps upon us when the first sign of hope flickers faintly on the horizon. That distant glow is the object of any Easter vigil. That’s today. Tomorrow, be we theist or atheist, earth’s bursting forth from slumber will be worth celebrating. It will be paque, as the French would say. Passover and Easter, in French, are one and the same word.
To be honest, this winter was mild and this Lent I forfeited nothing. Last year about did me in. Right now I’m reveling in the glorious resurrection of relationships, family and careers. Our mild winter and early spring reflect my contented heart. And this incredible spring is, as far as I’m concerned, much needed. The frost of last night has merely perpetuated the long row of cloudless azure skies we’ve enjoyed. What pascal light could be more promising that a clear full moon at night or bright sun breaking across the sky each morning.
Good news of any kind lets us breathe deeper and fuller. Resurrected minds, bodies or spirits are new chances to create more passionately and live more intensely, having faced, head-on, the reality that nothing will last forever.