EASTER SUNDAY, CYCLE B Hope is kindled
Today’s readings: Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-9
One of the most iconic and pivotal moments in the fantasy film The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003), is the rousing scene depicting the lighting of the beacons. Set against the backdrop of the majestic mountains of Gondor, the sequence unfolds with urgency and anticipation; as these massive bonfires are lit in succession, the camera pans across the rugged landscape, capturing the awe-inspiring sight of fire spreading across snow-capped mountains like a wave of hope. The music swells triumphantly, heightening the significance of the moment.
This chain reaction of fire spreading across the mountains represents a glimmer of hope amid despair, signalling unity and rallying the kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan together in a common cause. The grandeur of the moment is encapsulated in three words uttered by the wizard Gandalf: “Hope is kindled”.
Though it is only a movie scene, this moment tends to resonate on a deeper level with people of faith. I am always reminded of it during the Easter vigil when the paschal candle is lit from a new fire that has been blessed at the beginning of the celebration, symbolising the light of Christ dispelling the darkness of sin and death.
Once lit, the paschal candle is carried exultantly through the church; three times it is raised high to joyful chants of “The light of Christ”. Its flame is then shared with the other candles held by members of the congregation. As the light spreads throughout the church, it symbolises the spreading of the Gospel message and the light of Christ illuminating the world. In that moment, like Gandalf, I too whisper to myself, “hope is kindled”.
And yet there is a significant difference between the movie scene and the Easter celebration. In the film, the beacons are lit not in jubilation but as a summons to war. In fact, at the equivalent moment in the book by J.R.R. Tolkien, the phrase Gandalf uses is actually “War is kindled”. The slim hope that characterises the moment comes from the fact that a united force of allied nations may vanquish an evil and overwhelming enemy.
Easter, on the other hand, celebrates a victory already won, not in fantasy but in faith and in truth. The enemy has indeed been vanquished, not through force of arms but through love: the love of Jesus Christ who laid down his life for his friends, for us. It is a love that often appears weak and fragile, like a flickering flame at risk of being snuffed out. But in the words of martyr archbishop Oscar Romero, love “is the force that will overcome the world. Let us not tire of preaching love. Though we see that waves of violence succeed in drowning the fire of Christian love, love must win out; it is the only thing that can.”
Christ’s empty tomb is the proof that love has indeed won out, for death does not have the final word. The handing on of the flame of hope is evoked in today’s Gospel through the succession of characters who visit Christ’s empty tomb trying to make sense of it all. First Mary Magdalene, then Peter and John, embark on a journey from incredulity to faith.
Luckily for us, it does not end with them. Successive generations of Christians have handed on the living flame of faith and hope, in accordance with Peter’s words in today’s first reading: “[Christ] commissioned us to preach to the people and testify that he is the one appointed by God as judge of the living and the dead. To him all the prophets bear witness, that everyone who believes in him will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.”
BGATT@MALTACHURCHTRIBUNALS.ORG