Chant: Exsultet Easter Vigil

Chant Exsultet Easter

“Chant calls us out of chronological time, in which ‘now’ can never be located, and into the eternal now, which is not really found in time.” —David Steindl-Rast in The Music of Silence: Entering the Sacred Space of Monastic Experience (HarperOne, 1995).

David Steindl-Rast reminds us that when we use this ancient voice of praise and prayer to God, we are standing in the presence of ancient angel choirs. We are changing the way we address God and each other. The words become notes. The message we chant sounds different. The sounds of the chant are soothing and comforting.

The music takes us to another place and another time. The sounds open our world to a new dimension. Chanting slows down the words of the message. The squirrels running in the cage in our heads slow down and become a bit quieter. Sometimes, time seems to stand still, and we feel at peace. We are home.

The chant that deacons most often sing is the Exsultet, which follows bringing the newly lit Christ candle back into the church at the Easter Vigil. This music becomes part of my body long before Lent begins, even if I am not the deacon designated to sing this lengthy Canticle.

Jason Pennington, the music director at one of my previous churches, describes the Exsultet as “one of the most difficult chants of the Church’s treasury of song, sung at the opening of the Great Vigil. It is the culmination of the events of the Holy Triduum, as the congregation holds their candles in the shadow of the one Paschal Candle. The choir, not yet allowed into the stalls, stands in the nave with the faithful as that most beautiful of Canticles is intoned and promises us all the immeasurable gift of salvation.” 

I keep a note from Jason from our last Easter together, when I began having more mobility issues, and standing for a long time was more difficult.

Jason

“She faced excruciating physical pain to stand for the lengthy Canticle as she drew each breath to acclaim its message of life. She paced it well, taking her time and savoring every single phrase as if it were the very first. This was a beautiful gift of ministry, a Holy Spirit gift that put ministry before self. And isn’t that exactly the lesson to have been learned at the Mandatum not two nights before: ‘I give you a new commandment, that you should love one another.’ Joanna’s lovely, quiet chanting voice was tremulous with pain, yet was filled with joy. This was Easter.”

I keep Jason’s note to remind me and others that chanting is always an offering, never a performance.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Remembering Easter Vigils

A Memory Book of Past Easter Vigils

“How blessed is this night when earth and heaven are joined, and man is reconciled to God.”  —Book of Common Prayer (Church Publishing 1979) p. 287.

I revisit this past Holy Week and remember especially some beautiful stories of the excitement of the Easter Vigil at each church where I served. I remember one priest telling us at his homily many years ago that our presence at the Vigil didn’t give us extra points with God. We weren’t getting more stars in our crown for being there. Being among the first ones at the empty tomb was a privilege to meet the risen Lord.

One of my favorite surprises was waiting to see how the Altar Guild would decorate my larger harp for the Easter Vigil.

Many congregations then follow the Vigil service with an elaborate reception or dinner late at night at church or someone’s home.

Once at Trinity Cathedral, as the deacon tilted the candle ever so slightly to light its wick from the first fire, oil ran out of the top of the candle, and the fire became surreal, like the tongues of fire described at Pentecost. At St. Margaret’s, we did the Vigil in the Columbarium garden, and I played a smaller lap harp as I chanted the Exsultet to stay on key. I cannot describe the exhilaration of shouting in the great outdoors, “The Lord has risen indeed!”

At St. Luke’s, a lector reading one of the Old Testament Lessons had difficulty seeing in the dark. In the middle of the long reading, my dear friend put her candle closer to the microphone at the lectern, catching the microphone’s foam covering on fire. She so elegantly promptly blew out the fire and didn’t miss a beat in the reading.

Also, at St. Luke’s, one of the fantastic teachers of the children’s ministries and her two children planned a flashlight egg hunt for older children after the Vigil. The young people searched outside around the church, which was a huge success and increased the number of people who came to the service!

If you look online at a virtual Vigil during the pandemic at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, the Easter fire looks like it is coming out of the air! Spectacular!

It is now more contained but still very moving.

We recently handed out bells for people to ring during the Great Alleluia. At the end of the service, our other deacon, Susan, and our associate priest, Patricia, spontaneously began ringing their bells whenever there was an Alleluia at the closing hymn, “Christ the Lord is Risen Today, Alleluia.” The congregation soon joined in ringing their bells. It was incredibly moving, since we could not sing because of COVID restrictions, but we could ring!

The Vigil is so unusual that it is easy for clergy to get caught up in the many tiny details of this once-a-year liturgy and view it as a performance rather than an offering. The Vigil is a service to be enjoyed and celebrated.

We can always count on the Vigil to bring surprises, as it did this year and the first Easter.

Joanna. joannaseibet@me.com

Servant Ministry and Diaconal Ministry

Charleston: Servant Ministry and Diaconal Ministry

 “This is not our first day on the job. I know many of you have been here for a long while, and even more of you have been working overtime. I wish I could tell you it is time to take a break. I wish I could say that the job is almost finished. But that’s not the case. In fact, it looks like we have even more work to do.

The task has gotten bigger, and the stakes have gotten higher. That means we must all work harder to create a culture of inclusion, clear a path to peace, develop a sustainable ecology, and repair the bonds of justice that hold us together. And one last note, we still get paid the same: zero dollars, but more smiles and hope than we can spend.”— Steven Charleston

deacons in Arkansas with Bishop Curry and Bishop Benfield around 15 years ago

Deacons know about zero dollars since ours is a non-stipend ministry. However, there is something gratifying about working for free if you can. It means the deacons may be retired or have another income from a reimbursed job, allowing them to work without compensation in their second job.

The diaconate is a ministry that keeps you in the world because that is where you are monetarily compensated. Deacons are called to be a bridge between the church and the world, bringing the needs of the world to the church and bringing the church to the world. They are directly under the leadership of their bishop.

The best recent book about the diaconate is Unexpected Consequences: The Diaconate Renewed by Susanne Watson Epting.

deacons 2024 with Bishop Harmon

The deacon stands beside others in ministry, cheering them on as they are called to the ministry. Frederick Buechner would  say this is where their “deep gladness” meets the “world’s great need.”

The deacon stands beside the priest at the Eucharist, alongside those working for inclusion, peace in this world, justice for all, and care for our ecology. The deacon stands for and supports others in servant ministry.

When people are discerning what kind of work to do, they are often told, “Choose the job you would do even if you were not paid for it.” Most people who do ministry in the church are not paid. However, the icon for this statement may be deacons who take a vow to be servant ministers.

Yesterday, I celebrated the privilege of being an ordained deacon in the Episcopal Church for twenty-four years.

Joanna  joannaseibert.com https://www.joannaseibert.com/