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Surprised by joy

On April 19, the bishop celebrated the Easter Vigil at the Cathedral of St. Paul. The complete text of his homily follows herein.

My dear sisters and brothers in Christ, “This is the day the Lord has made. We rejoice and are glad!”

On behalf of Father Jerabek and the staff of the Cathedral of St. Paul and the Diocese of Birmingham, I wish you a very blessed Easter!

What a night this is! We began in darkness. We kindled a flame. We told the old, old stories—stories that go back to the very beginning, when “God said, ‘Let there be light,’” and suddenly, the universe sprang to life.

We remembered how God delivered His people, splitting the sea in two to lead them from slavery to freedom. We heard Isaiah cry out, “Come to the water, all you who are thirsty!” And now, here we are, with hearts and candles lit on the edge of a mystery, standing with the women at the tomb.

But let’s pause a moment. Let’s go back just a few days because on Friday, it all seemed over.

The One in Whom they had placed every hope had been crucified. The sky grew dark. The earth shook. Their dreams died with Him. And no one—"no one”—expected a resurrection: not the apostles, not the women, no one! The tomb was sealed, and so it seemed to be the end of the story. Nothing is so final as death.

Have you ever felt like that? Have you ever felt like everything good had come undone, like the future you imagined just vanished, like your hopes were nailed shut in a tomb? That’s where they were, and that’s what makes the Easter Vigil so breathtaking.

When the women went to the tomb, grieving, broken-hearted, bearing spices for a dead man, "they found something no one expected”: an empty tomb, two men in dazzling garments, a message that would shake the world: “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here. He is risen.” Can you feel the utter amazement of those words? In a moment, everything changed.  

What looked like defeat was actually a victory. What looked like the end was actually a beginning. What looked like death was really the doorway to eternal life.

No wonder the Apostles thought it was nonsense! No wonder Peter ran to the tomb! This was the plot twist no one saw coming.

And friends, this is how God works!

Our readings tonight remind us of that over and over. Out of chaos, God brings creation. Out of slavery, God brings liberation. Out of exile, God brings restoration. And out of a tomb, God brings resurrection.

St. Paul tells us that when we were baptized into Christ Jesus, we were baptized into His death so that, “just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.”

That’s not just a nice metaphor. It’s a radical reality. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is at work in us. Right now. The story isn’t over: not for Jesus and not for you.

So, what does this mean, here and now? It means that your failures aren’t final. It means that your sin isn’t stronger than God’s mercy. It means that the grave is not the end of the road. It means that when you walk through the darkness, “the dawn is already breaking.”

Easter is God’s eternal “yes” to a world that thought the answer was “no.” It’s the surprise twist that turns sorrow into elation and death into life, and it started with some women who simply showed up—even in grief, even in confusion—and went to the tomb.

Tonight, we do the same. We show up. We step into the story again. We run with Peter to see for ourselves. We dare to believe: “He is not here. He is risen!” Christ is alive, and that changes everything. Amen.