The connection between Easter and baptism isn’t as established in our minds as it should be. It was brought home to me when I attended an Easter Vigil at a university chaplaincy some years ago, during which numerous adults were baptised by total immersion. There, in the still dim light of the chapel, amplified by the newly lit paschal candle, there was a real sense that these people were entering the tomb with Christ in order to rise again with him.
It is baptism which, in the usual course of things, makes Easter real for us. Through it we become members of the Church, the mystical Body of Christ, by which the Risen Christ continues to be present in the world, and through which his saving work is present. We are, as St Paul put it, dead to sin and alive to God in Jesus Christ our Lord.
For through the sacramental life, lived out in the Church through the gift of the Holy Spirit, the celebrations of the past three days are not simply commemorations. We, as Catholic Christians, are not in the business of merely recalling past events (although we are at least recalling them: the messy drama of Holy Week being a unique feature of the liturgical year). In our participation in the sacraments we enter into those events, they become our events.
It is our job then as Christians, as people who have died to the old order of hatred and injustice through the waters of baptism, to make Christ present in a world that sorely needs to see that death is not the last word on human existence (I write as Donald Trump is sabre-rattling over the Middle East and North Korea). This is not a moralistic imperative, a call to staunch godly effort, but rather an invitation – only made possible by God’s loving action towards us – to be consistently what we are, people who have entered the tomb sacramentally with Christ in order to rise with him. We are living proof that the idea that the combination of fear and force is the only way to live alongside our fellow human beings. Fear and force brought Jesus to the Cross, and his Father answered with the Resurrection.
To be what we are, an Easter people, is indeed – as the hymns have it – a joyful experience. But joy is not the same thing as fun. A world still in love with the old Adam will not welcome the good news that its work of destruction is frustrated, “he is not here he is risen”. The Jesus of John’s gospel tells us that if the world hated him, it will hate us too (the ‘world’, of couse, means here not the physical creation, nor the human race, but rather those structures that resist God’s offer of love through his Word). The celebrations of the past hours hint that even this hatred might be the occasion for joy. The priest places incense grains into the Paschal Candle, signifying the wounds of Christ; and the whole of which they are a part becomes the sign of Christ’s presence in our midst. We respond to our wounded, risen , saviour, the light of the world Deo Gratias – thanks be to God.