Water, Fire and Breakfast
Romans 6.3–11; Luke
24.1–12
sermon at the Easter
Vigil (Baptism, Confirmation and First Communion of Easter)
in Durham Cathedral,
Easter Day (April 3) 2010
by the Bishop of
Durham, Dr N. T. Wright
If you remember little
else about this morning, you will probably remember it as the day you got up at
half past three in the morning to go to church. I hope you remember a lot more
than that, but that’s a good start: because the whole point of Easter, and of
baptism and confirmation, is that it’s all about getting up ridiculously early,
being splashed with water to wake you up, and perhaps, in old-fashioned houses
at least, lighting a fire somewhere so that the house can warm up for everyone
else. Then, when all that’s done, you can think about some breakfast. Well,
that’s what we’re about this morning – the water, the fire, and the breakfast:
and all because Easter is about waking up ridiculously early while everybody
else is asleep. That’s why, at the first Easter, everyone was shocked and
startled – the women perplexed and terrified, the men disbelieving and amazed.
This was all wrong. Things shouldn’t happen like this. The world was surprised
and unready. It was still asleep. And it still is.
You see, the popular
perception of Easter lets us down in a big way. I don’t just mean the chocolate
eggs and fluffy chicks and rabbits. In a sense, they are all just good fun.
Nobody in their right mind would mistake them for the real thing. No: the
danger lies deeper. Many people in our culture, including many Christians,
think of Easter basically as a happy ending after the horror and shame of Good
Friday: ‘Oh, that’s all right, he came back to life, well, sort of, and so he’s
in heaven now so that’s all OK, isn’t it?’ And the answer to that should be,
‘No, that’s not OK; that’s not what Easter is about at all.’ The whole point of
Easter is that God is going to sort out the whole world, put the whole thing to
rights once and for all – this world, not just somewhere called ‘heaven’ – and
the resurrection of Jesus is the beginning of that great work. It is the
launching, good and proper, of this thing we call the kingdom of God.
What’s that got to do
with getting up two hours before sunrise, and with the water, the fire and the
breakfast? Well, pretty much everything. You see, as far as the rest of the
world is concerned, it’s still night-time. Nothing new has really happened. The
world would much prefer to believe that Christianity is simply another
‘religion’, offering another strange spiritual option, with a few odd miracles
to back up its claims, but that really nothing’s changed. Corruption and death
still rule the world, and Easter simply whispers that there’s a way of escape
if we want it. No! Believe it or disbelieve it (though you, here, had better
believe it!), the point of Easter is that when Jesus came out of the tomb he
was alive again in a bodily life which was the start of the new physical
world which God is going to make. And that means that God’s time has jumped
forwards, so that what we thought would happen at the very end – God putting
everything to rights at last – has leapt forwards into the present, into the
middle of our time, our history. When the early Christians told the story of
Jesus’ resurrection, that’s what they were saying: God’s new world has begun,
and you are invited to be part of that new world – part of the world which
lives on God’s time, and lives in God’s new way.
And it’s all because
of Jesus, and his dying and rising again. God’s new time is the time when new
life happens, but new life can only happen when death has been overcome. God’s
new world is the world where sins are forgiven, but forgiveness can only happen
when sins have been dealt with. God’s new life is the genuinely human life, the
life that fully reflects who God actually is, but we can only even dream of
that holiness if something happens to us and in us so that we ourselves make
the transition from the way of death – which is what seems, to us, the
‘ordinary’ way of living – to the way of life. And the way we are brought into
that new time, that new world, and that new life, is through being plunged into
the death and resurrection of Jesus so that his death becomes ours, and his
resurrection becomes ours.
Jesus himself showed
how we are to do this. When we are baptized, we are drowned in his death and
come out the other side into his new life, his new world, his new time. This is
the meaning of the water of baptism.
But to be complete, we
creatures of earth need not only the water but also the fire. When people come
to confirmation they not only ‘confirm’ the promises made at their baptism –
promises about dying with Jesus and rising again with him – but also pray for
the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is the living fire of God’s own presence and
power, and that fire comes to live inside us – us together, and us individually
– so that we can live the new life, be part of the new world, and in particular
live on God’s time, which is always ahead of the sleepy time of the rest
of the world. When you pray for the Holy Spirit, and when together as a church
we pray for the Spirit to come upon us – and today in particular upon you
– God answers that prayer in all sorts of different ways. Sometimes it’s quite
dramatic, and that’s fine. Sometimes it’s slow and quiet, and you will only
gradually realise that things are different. You are to take responsibility for
thinking it through and working out what God is now calling you do be and to
do, what his new life will look like in and through you. As the Americans say,
‘You do the math’: figure out what are the ways in which he is calling you to
wake up and live on a different time to the rest of the world, and in
particular the ways in which he is lighting a fire inside you not simply to
warm you up but so that, through you, he can warm up the rest of the world.
Because that’s the
point of all this. Confirmation isn’t simply about God’s gift of himself, his
own Spirit, to live within you. Confirmation is about God’s gift of himself through
you to the rest of the world – more particularly, to the bits of the world
where he has called you and put you. You are God’s Easter-presents to your
family, to your school, your place of work, to our country and our world. The
early Christians used to dress people up in white clothes after baptism, to
symbolize the new life they had now entered. Perhaps we should dress you up as
large chocolate eggs, to make the point that God is giving you to the world all
around as a delightful and delicious Easter-present. I know people don’t
usually think of Christians that way, but perhaps it’s time they did. After
all, in many towns and cities and villages it’s mostly Christians who are
volunteering to help in the hospice, or visiting in the prisons, or doing meals
on wheels, or whatever. Yes, several people do these things who are not
Christians, but again and again you’ll find they are. It’s Christians, mostly,
who are campaigning on behalf of asylum seekers, who are working as Town
Pastors in the confused night-time world of our city streets. Christians should
be at the forefront of the world’s celebrations and its tragedies: rejoice,
said Paul, with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. You are the
salt of the earth, said Jesus; you are the light of the world. You are the fire
that God is lighting in our cold, dark, nighttime world, the fire that says
it’s morning-time and the place needs warming up. Christians are people who
have been washed in the water and filled with the fire, abandoning the old life
and bringing the new one to birth in a surprised and unready world.
And the water-and-fire
people are then the breakfast-people. You can’t sustain the new life by
yourself. You can’t live in God’s new world, on God’s new time, without
constant help. And the help we need is Jesus himself – his death to go on
dealing with our sins and failings, his new life to go on becoming ours, for us
and through us. As we come to his feast, the bread and the wine become heavy
with fresh meaning, Passover-meaning, Jesus-meaning, meaning for us and for the
world through us. This, too, is shocking and puzzling to many people. How on
earth can this simple, symbolic meal carry all that power?
The short answer is:
because Jesus said it would when he told us to do it. The deeper reasons are
all there to be explored in due course. But today, as we come to the first
Eucharist of this Easter, you come with special joy, because you are today’s
water-and-fire people, and, as we share in this breakfast with you, you remind
us that all of us who belong to Jesus are water-and-fire people, all of us
Easter-presents to and for God’s whole world. Thank you for standing up and
being counted today. Thank God for all that he’s doing in your lives and
through you for the rest of us. No doubt there will be times when you, like the
rest of us and like those first disciples, will be perplexed and amazed,
perhaps even disbelieving and terrified. But Jesus Christ is risen again! He is
on the loose, on the move, at work in his world and in our midst, and you today
are the living witnesses to the power of his death and resurrection and Spirit.
Remember the water; pray for the fire; come to the breakfast, and be ready then
to go out live as God’s Easter presents to his surprised and unready world.