Thy Resurrection, O Christ Savior, the angels in the heavens sing;
enable us on earth to glorify Thee in purity of heart!
The priest emerges from the altar with a huge candle, wearing royal robes and a diadem. In this liturgical passion play—the drama of redemption—he is playing the part of Christ. He sings,
The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness is not overcome. Come ye and receive the light.
And with that someone lights their candle from his, then passes it on. Gradually, as candle lights candle, the whole sanctuary is illuminated and radiates the truth that in us, the glory of the Lord spreads from sea to sea and across the globe.
I fall into procession as the priest leads us out of the building. Bear in mind, I have no idea what’s coming next. We all join in the song as we walk slowly,
Thy Resurrection, O Christ Savior, the angels in the heavens sing;
enable us on earth to glorify Thee in purity of heart.
As we circumnavigate the church, my candle gives way to the wind or my stumbling, but others quickly relight it. I note how this is not unlike my faith journey at times through this present darkness. Finally, after circling the temple three times, the priest stands before the front doors. He reads a gospel text that announces the discovery of the empty tomb.
He pounds on the door three times and cries out,
Lift up your gates, O ye princes;
and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting gates,
and the King of Glory shall enter in.
Someone behind the closed doors responds,
Who is this King of Glory?
And the priest replies, with boldness,
The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord, mighty in war.
Lift up your gates, O ye princes; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting gates,
and the King of Glory shall enter in.
Again, from inside,
Who is this King of Glory?
And the priest, loudly,
The Lord of hosts, He is the King of Glory.
Again he pounds on the door and the dialogue is repeated. There are layers to this engagement. One way to see it is Christ entering his temple; but more poignant to the moment is that he is confronting the princes (
Hades and Satan), shattering the gates of
hades and binding the strongman to plunder his goods. Christ enters death, by death, to overcome death for us all.
The doors swing open and the congregation streams into the church with our candles. Once we are all in, a chant begins—repeatedly and rising in intensity:
Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death,
And upon those in the tombs bestowing life.
These words of victory rise as a ringing refrain that will be repeated again and again throughout the next
three hours. This is the central confession of the Eastern Church: The divine Word and second person of the Trinity assumes human nature in the one Person, Jesus Christ, and suffers death to vanquish death. Gustaf Aulen would later refer to this as an atonement theory he called
Christus Victor. The Orthodox faithful would raise an objection or two to that designation.
First,
Christ’s victory over Satan, sin and death by his death and resurrection is not an atonement theory. It is the gospel proclaimed in the New Testament. It is no
theory that Christ defeated death and rose from the grave in power: it is the
faith once delivered by Christ to the apostles that we proclaim.
Second, Orthodoxy certainly does speak in terms of victory. But let no one imagine this victory in terms of a dualistic cosmology that takes two competing sides deep into extra time. In Canada, we would call this a ‘trouncing.’ Throughout the Paschal liturgy, we hear the ancient and triumphant theology of the same fathers who gave us our New Testament and Creeds,
Let God arise and let His enemies be scattered,
and let them that hate Him flee from before His face.
Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death,
and upon those in the tombs bestowing life.
As smoke vanishes, so let them vanish, as wax melts before the fire. ~ “Trampling Down Death by Death”: Reflections on the Orthodox Resurrection Service - Theological Miscellany