Here is a very old Catholic proclamation for the night that welcomes Easter.
It’s said before the Paschal Candle in a dark world brought to light.
I will embolden the relevant part.
Does it remind you of anything?
“It is truly right and just, with ardent love of mind and heart
and with devoted service of our voice,
to acclaim our God invisible, the almighty Father,
and Jesus Christ, our Lord, his Son, his Only Begotten.
Who for our sake paid Adam’s debt to the eternal Father,
and, pouring out his own dear Blood,
wiped clean the record of our ancient sinfulness.
These, then, are the feasts of Passover,
in which is slain the Lamb, the one true Lamb,
whose Blood anoints the doorposts of believers.
This is the night,
when once you led our forebears, Israel’s children,
from slavery in Egypt
and made them pass dry-shod through the Red Sea.
This is the night
that with a pillar of fire
banished the darkness of sin.
This is the night
that even now, throughout the world,
sets Christian believers apart from worldly vices
and from the gloom of sin,
leading them to grace
and joining them to his holy ones.
This is the night,
when Christ broke the prison-bars of death
and rose victorious from the underworld.
Our birth would have been no gain,
had we not been redeemed.”
The water here is the waves of the Red Sea which parted to let the children of Israel pass through without harm. Do we feel, on the other side of the pandemic, and so much more, as if we are people allowed through the waves? The story, and our thoughts about it become complex when we acknowledge the play that echoes its rhythms:
The Merchant of Venice, Act V, Scene 1:
LORENZO.
The moon shines bright: in such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise, in such a night,
Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls,
And sigh’d his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.
JESSICA.
In such a night
Did Thisby fearfully o’ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion’s shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay’d away.
LORENZO.
In such a night
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love
To come again to Carthage.
JESSICA.
In such a night
Medea gather’d the enchanted herbs
That did renew old AEson.
LORENZO.
In such a night
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
As far as Belmont.
JESSICA.
In such a night
Did young Lorenzo swear he lov’d her well,
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,–
And ne’er a true one.
LORENZO.
In such a night
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
JESSICA.
I would out-night you, did no body come;
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.
Shakespeare changes an exclamation of an amazing night of happiness and hope, harking back to Old Testament themes and promises, into a Classical love song for two people -Lorenzo, a Christian Venetian, and Jessica, the daughter of Shylock, a Jewish money-lender. It would simply be a beautiful evocation of love as soft and glancing as the gentle kiss, the wafting of a love and the enchantment of the herbs, were it not for the verb “to steal” and the context of a play which makes Jessica’s father, Shylock, the loser in so many devastating ways. “Christian believers”, divided from “worldly vices”, forget the enlightened moment in Shakespeare’s play, and send the child of Israel who is Shylock on a rollercoaster of pain, including the loss of his daughter.
I have a relationship with Stoke Newington in North London. I was married there, and have many happy memories of that place. The people that gladden my heart on sight there, are the orthodox Jewish families, living out their lives privately, with so much dignity and familial love and respect. I once asked an orthodox Jewish man in a ‘Stokey’ public place if he could help me with my little phone. He seemed so adept with his. I told him I’d gone off ‘smart’ phones.
“You’re lucky,” he quipped. He was probably thinking of his daughters…
Tonight I will stand near a Paschal Candle, and perhaps I will hear the proclamation of joy for a new day. It will be a Catholic church. It will start outside in the gathering darkness. But a historical question for our moment might be – what was Shakespeare doing going anywhere near the Exsultet at all? Given it came nowhere near the Book of Common Prayer? I wouldn’t be the first to wonder at the ‘High Church’, sacramental clues that Shakespeare gave us about Faith issues, possibly personal ones. Troilus, Cressida, Thisbe, Dido and even Medea say, it’s a beautiful love poem under a starlit sky. All I say is, “Happy Easter”, have a good “Pesach” or a great Eid, when it comes.
Let the Light of Love steal in on as all and let Hope reign supreme.