This is the paschal feast,
the Lord’s passing from death to life:
so cries the Spirit.
No type or telling, this, no shadow.
Pasch of the Lord it is, and truly.
You have protected us, Jesus,
from endless disaster.
You spread your hands like a mother
and, motherlike, gave cover with your wings.
Your blood, God’s blood, you poured over the earth,
giving life, because you loved us.
The heavens may have your spirit, paradise your soul,
but oh, may the earth have your blood!
This feast of the Spirit
leads the mystic dance through the year.
New is this feast and all-embracing;
all creation assembles at it.
Joy to all creatures, honor, feasting, delight!
Dark death is destroyed
and life is restored everywhere.
The gates of heaven are open.
God has shown himself human,
humanity has gone up to God.
The gates of hell are shattered,
the bars of Adam’s prison broken.
The people of the world below have risen from the dead,
bringing good news:
what was promised is fulfilled.
From the earth has come singing and dancing.
This is God’s passing!
Heaven’s God, showing no stinginess,
has joined us together with God in the Spirit.
The great marriage hall is full of guests,
all dressed for the wedding,
no guest rejected for want of a wedding garment.
The paschal light is the bright new lamplight,
light that shines from the virgins’ lamps.
The light in the soul will never go out.
The fire of grace burns in us all,
spirit, divine, in our bodies and in our souls,
fed with the oil of Christ.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Join, then, all of you, join in this great rejoicing.
You who’ve been working the vineyard from the early hour
and you who came later,
come now and collect your wages.
Rich and poor, sing and dance together.
You who are hard on yourselves, you who are easy,
honor this day.
You who have fasted and you who have not,
make merry today.
The meal is ready: come and enjoy it.
The calf is a fat one: you will not go away hungry.
There’s kindness for all to partake of and kindness to spare.
Away with pleading of poverty:
the kingdom belongs to us all.
Away with bewailing of failings:
forgiveness has come from the grave.
Away with your fears of dying:
the death of our Savior has freed us from fear.
Death played the master: he has mastered death.
The world below had scarcely known him in the flesh
when he rose and left it plunged in bitter mourning.
Isaiah knew it would be so. [Isa. 14:9]
The world of shadows mourned, he cried, when it met you,
mourned at its being brought low, wept at its being deluded.
The shadows seized a body and found it was God;
they reached for earth and what they held was heaven;
they took what they could see: it was what no one sees.
Where is death’s goad? Where is the shadows’ victory?
Christ is risen: the world below [hell] is in ruins.
Christ is risen: the spirits of evil are fallen.
Christ is risen: the angels of God are rejoicing.
Christ is risen: the tombs are void of their dead.
Christ has indeed arisen from the dead,
the first of the sleepers.
Glory and power are his for ever and ever. Amen.
This text is a composite of excerpts from two Easter sermons spuriously attributed to John Chrysostom (ca. 347–407) and drawing inspiration from Hippolytus of Rome (ca. 170–ca. 235), which I adapted from Walter Mitchell’s English translation from the original Greek that appears in Adalbert Hamman, OFM, ed., Early Christian Prayers (Chicago: Regnery Gateway, 1961), 31–35. The source texts can be found in the Patrologia Graeca 59:741–46 and 59:721–24. They probably date to the fourth century.
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