Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Catholic
Religion News
This is the Night God Makes All Things New

This is the Night God Makes All Things New

Last updated on: April 4, 2026 at 9:56 am by Billy Kangas

0 Comments

This is the Night God Makes All Things New 2026-04-04T09:56:18-04:00 Billy Kangas

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

It’s easy to lose focus during the Easter Vigil. The liturgy is beautiful, but it’s long, and the sheer number of Scripture passages can feel overwhelming if we don’t have a few handholds to guide us. My hope is that with a little preparation, you’ll be able to enter the Vigil with a sense of anticipation—so that as each reading unfolds, you begin to recognize the pattern, the story, and the movement of God’s work. And when that happens, the Scriptures don’t just pass by; they come alive.

All right, I think we’re ready to start.

As we prepare for the Easter Vigil, I like to ground our understanding of the readings in something very important: we are trying to remember the story that we’re living.

A key thing to keep in mind with any reading of sacred scripture in the liturgy is that we need to be a people who live by the right story, and the scriptures help us with that.

If we’re living out of the wrong story, our whole life can be oriented around the wrong things. And the world around us tells us a story that is often filled with the wrong things—like happiness comes from getting more stuff, or having more influence, or being better than others, or whatever it is.

What the Liturgy of the Word reminds us of every Sunday—and what it does in a particular way at the Easter Vigil—is that the story of God is not all those other stories. It’s the story that the God of the universe, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, pursued us with love so much that He entered into our life and adopted it in all its brokenness, so that we might be adopted into the very life of God in all its fullness. And by His grace, we’re empowered to live in His Holy Spirit in that newness of life each and every day.

We celebrate this every year. One of my seminary professors used an analogy I love: the liturgical year is like a screw. We go around and around and around, and every year we celebrate the same things, we remember the same story—but every time we go around, it gets driven into our hearts a little deeper and a little deeper. Every Mass is a turn of the screw. Every year is a turn of the screw. And in the Vigil, we have the greatest expression of the story of God in a single liturgical moment of the whole Church year.

Prepare for the Vigil

I’m going to go through the readings briefly, but the invitation I want to give is to prepare yourselves by reading these ahead of time, to reflect on what God is saying, so that when you come into the Vigil you are prayerfully aware and engaged.

One of the most important things that helps me pay attention in Mass is remembering how each of the things we hear relates to the story of God.

We’re going to hear about our need for a Savior, the ways we’ve been bound by sin—both the sin of this world that oppresses us and the sin within us that drives us in the wrong direction. We’re going to hear about the glory of God. We’re going to hear about the saving work of Jesus and God’s work to free us from the things that oppress us. And if you can identify, as you listen, “What part of God’s story is this telling me?”, it helps everything come together.

The Structure of the Vigil Readings

There are nine readings at the Vigil: seven from the Old Testament and two from the New Testament. Each one is accompanied by either a psalm or a canticle.

A psalm is from the Book of Psalms.
A canticle is a song in Scripture that isn’t in the Book of Psalms.

In the life of the Church, we have 150 psalms and then a handful of amazing canticles from both the Old and New Testaments. Between each reading you’ll hear a psalm or a canticle—some of my favorite parts.

There are different ways to structure the Vigil. The Church requires at least three of the Old Testament readings, and Exodus 14—the crossing of the Red Sea—must always be included. The two New Testament readings must also always be read, although the Gospel changes every three years because of our liturgical cycle.

Creation (Genesis 1)

The Vigil readings begin with the story of creation. This is the story of how the world came to be. It’s a very important story. It demonstrates a few things.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” The earth was formless and void—in Hebrew, tohu vavohu, meaning wild and waste. The Spirit of God hovered over the waters, and God spoke and said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

It goes on to describe the six days of creation: the first three days where He creates spaces, and the second three where He fills those spaces. Light on the first day; sun, moon, and stars on the fourth. The separation of the waters above and below on the second day; birds and sea creatures on the fifth. Land on the third day; animals and, very importantly, people on the sixth.

This creation story was revolutionary. Other ancient creation stories might have sounded similar in form, but the lesson was very different. For example, the Enuma Elish, a Babylonian myth, says we were created accidentally as the product of warfare between the gods. But in Genesis, you were created on purpose. You were created very good. You were placed into a creation that was good—not as the leftovers of a divine battle, but from the intention of a God of love.

Even from the beginning of the Bible, we have echoes of what we now call the Trinity—a God who existed as a communion of love that spilled out in creation.

And as we think about creation, we’re reminded of the Spirit who will be present in the waters of baptism. When you come out of the waters of baptism, you are given that very same Spirit of God that brought creation into being. There is no secondary Holy Spirit. The same Spirit who hovered over the waters of creation, the same Spirit who raised Christ from the dead, is the Spirit given to you in baptism. For those already baptized, that is the Spirit within you. You are a new creation. As Scripture says, “The old is gone, the new has come.”

Psalm: Psalm 104 — “Lord, send out your Spirit and renew the face of the earth.”

This psalm is the Church’s first response to the story of creation. It is a reminder that creation is not only something God did long ago. It is something God continues to do. The same Spirit who hovered over the waters in Genesis is the Spirit we invoke now. The psalm becomes a prayer for new creation, not only in the world but in us.

In the context of the Vigil, this psalm is a baptismal cry. We ask God to send out His Spirit again, to renew the face of the earth by renewing the face of our hearts. The waters of baptism are the waters over which the Spirit still hovers. The new creation begins in the soul of every person who receives the Spirit. This psalm invites us to see the world and ourselves as places where God is still creating, still renewing, still bringing light out of darkness.

The Binding of Isaac (Genesis 22)

Next is Genesis 22, sometimes called the Akedah, the binding of Isaac.

This moves us forward through the fall, the flood, Babel, and into the life of Abraham. Abraham was called by God to leave his family and wander. He found himself in Egypt, then in what we call Israel or Canaan. God promised to use him to bless the world through his offspring.

His son Isaac is finally born after many years of waiting. Abraham is very old. Then God commands him to sacrifice his son. It seems wild. Abraham takes Isaac up the mountain, trusting God’s faithfulness. At the moment before the sacrifice, an angel stops him and points to a ram caught in a thicket. God provides the sacrifice.

This foreshadows Christ, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.

Psalm: Psalm 16 — “You are my inheritance, O God.”

Abraham shows us that God Himself—not His gifts—is the goal. Christian life is not a vending machine. We don’t become Christians because we think God will give us extra material blessings or make life easier. What God promises us is Himself. Everything He has—for the low, low price of everything we have.

Every area where we say, “God, I don’t want you in this part of my life,” is an area where God says, “Okay, you can have that part,” but we don’t get what He has for us there. Abraham is a model of faith not because sacrificing your children is a good idea—I have five boys; God has never told me to sacrifice a single one—but because he lived with open hands. Whatever he had, he gave to God, and God gave him so much more.

The Exodus (Exodus 14)

Then we move to the essential Old Testament reading: the Exodus.

Abraham’s son Isaac has Jacob; Jacob has many sons. The family goes to Egypt because of famine. They live there for generations and eventually become enslaved. God raises up Moses to lead them out. After many plagues, including the death of the firstborn, Pharaoh relents and lets them go.

As they leave slavery, they come to the Red Sea. Pharaoh changes his mind and pursues them. Moses lifts his hands, God parts the waters, and the people walk through on dry land. When the Egyptians follow, the waters return and drown the oppressors. The people walk free into a new life.

For Christians preparing for baptism, this is crucial. You too are a slave—to sin, to the patterns of this world, to death, to the devil. You cannot free yourself. God seeks out oppressed slaves and brings them into freedom by His mighty hand. In baptism, your old nature is drowned. Your sins are washed away. The power of the devil is broken. You have freedom.

Canticle: Song of Miriam — “Sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider He has cast into the sea.”

I used to pray this song often when I worked closely with the homeless in Detroit. Many were bound by addiction, abuse, trauma. I realized I needed to be a spiritual warrior. I would sing this song on my way in each morning, recognizing that our hope is in a God who fights for us. You might sing this over whatever binds you—sin you can’t shake, trauma, woundedness, weakness. Sing it as a song of victory, inviting God not to give you the strength to overcome, but to be the Redeemer who frees you.

Next we move to Isaiah—specifically “Second Isaiah,” written to the exiles in Babylon.

Isaiah 54 — God’s Unfailing Love

Isaiah 54 speaks to a people who feel abandoned and ashamed, and into that place God speaks a word of deep tenderness. The passage begins with the astonishing claim that our Maker is our husband. This is covenant language. It is the language of hesed, the Hebrew word for God’s steadfast, faithful, covenant love. Hesed is not sentimental affection. It is the love that stays. It is the love that keeps its promises. It is the love that does not let go.

The reading acknowledges Israel’s experience of exile. They felt like a wife cast off and alone. God does not deny that pain, but He reframes it. He says that the moment of abandonment was brief, but His compassion is everlasting. That is hesed. It is the love that outlasts our failures. It is the love that remains when everything else collapses. It is the love revealed fully in the Paschal Mystery, where Christ enters our suffering and brings us home.

God then recalls the covenant with Noah. Just as He swore that the waters would never again cover the earth, He now swears that His covenant of peace will not be shaken. Even if mountains fall and hills crumble, His hesed will not depart. This is the kind of fidelity we receive in baptism. God binds Himself to us with a love that is stronger than sin, stronger than fear, and stronger than death.

The passage turns to the image of a storm‑battered city. God promises not only to rebuild but to rebuild with beauty. He lays foundations in sapphires and walls in precious stones. This is the Resurrection at work. God does not simply restore what was broken. He creates something more radiant than before. He makes His people into a dwelling place of glory.

The reading ends with a promise of peace. Those who belong to God will be taught by Him and established in justice. Oppression will be far away. No weapon formed against them will prevail. This is not a promise of a life without suffering. It is the assurance that suffering will not have the final word. God’s hesed is stronger than anything that threatens us.

Isaiah 54 prepares us for the invitation of Isaiah 55. Before God calls us to come to the waters, He reminds us who He is. He is the God whose hesed is deeper than our wounds, more enduring than our fear, and unshakable even when the world trembles. This is the God who meets us in the Paschal Mystery. This is the God who restores us in baptism. This is the God who makes us new.

Psalm 30

“I will praise you, Lord, for you have rescued me.”

Isaiah 54 speaks of God’s unfailing love, His promise to restore His people, His refusal to abandon them. Psalm 30 gives us the voice of someone who has experienced that restoration. It is the prayer of a person who has been lifted up from the pit, healed, forgiven, and restored to life.

This psalm is Paschal because it speaks of a God who turns mourning into dancing, who brings life out of death, who transforms sorrow into joy. It is the pattern of the Resurrection written into the human heart.

Sacramentally, this psalm is the voice of the baptized. It is the voice of someone who has passed through the waters and come out alive. It is the voice of someone who knows that God’s anger lasts a moment but His favor lasts a lifetime. It is the voice of someone who has been rescued and cannot help but praise.

Isaiah 55 — Invitation to New Life

Isaiah 55 is one of the most beautiful invitations in all of Scripture. It is the voice of God calling out to a people who have nothing to offer, nothing to pay, nothing to bring except their hunger and their thirst. It is the voice of a God who delights in giving Himself away. It is the voice of a God who wants to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart.

The chapter begins with a simple and astonishing invitation. “All you who are thirsty, come to the water. You who have no money, come and eat.” This is not a call to the strong or the successful. It is not a call to the spiritually accomplished. It is a call to the empty. It is a call to the poor. It is a call to those who know they cannot save themselves.

In the context of the Easter Vigil, this invitation becomes profoundly Paschal. It is the invitation of the God who has entered our suffering in Isaiah 53, who has pursued us with everlasting love in Isaiah 54, and who now opens His hands and offers us life. The movement is clear. God descends into our brokenness. God restores the covenant. And then God invites us to receive the life that He alone can give.

Isaiah 55 is not only an invitation to come. It is an invitation to come without payment. The life God offers cannot be bought. It cannot be earned. It cannot be achieved. It can only be received. This is the heart of the Paschal Mystery. Christ has paid the price. Christ has borne the cost. Christ has opened the way. Our part is to come with open hands.

The sacramental dimension of this passage is unmistakable. The water we are invited to drink is the water of baptism. The food we are invited to eat is the life of God poured out in the sacraments. The promise that God’s word will not return empty is fulfilled in the sacramental life of the Church. When God speaks His word over the waters of baptism, that word accomplishes what it declares. When God speaks His word in the Eucharist, that word becomes flesh for us. When God speaks His word of forgiveness, that word restores the soul.

Isaiah 55 also calls us to turn toward God. “Seek the Lord while He may be found. Call upon Him while He is near.” This is not a warning. It is an invitation to intimacy. God is near. God is present. God is offering Himself. The only question is whether we will turn toward Him. The Paschal Mystery is not only something God has done. It is something God invites us to enter.

The passage then lifts our eyes to the mystery of God’s ways. “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways.” This is not a rebuke. It is a reassurance. God is not limited by our imagination. God is not bound by our expectations. God is not constrained by our failures. His mercy is higher than our sin. His generosity is greater than our poverty. His plans for us are more beautiful than anything we could design for ourselves.

Finally, Isaiah 55 ends with a vision of joy. Mountains and hills break into song. Trees clap their hands. Creation itself rejoices. This is the joy of the Resurrection. This is the joy of the new creation. This is the joy of a world set free. And this joy begins in the heart of every person who receives the life God offers.

Isaiah 55 is the voice of the risen Christ calling to His people. Come to the water. Come to the feast. Come to the life that is freely given. Come to the joy that creation itself cannot contain.

This is the invitation of the Easter Vigil. This is the invitation of baptism. This is the invitation of the Paschal Mystery.

And it is offered to us again and again, every time we turn our hearts toward the God who gives Himself without measure.

Canticle Isaiah 12 :

“You will draw water joyfully from the springs of salvation.”

Isaiah 55 invites us to come to the waters, to receive life freely from God. Isaiah 12 gives us the response of a heart that has done exactly that. It is a song of joy. It is a song of gratitude. It is a song of salvation.

This canticle is deeply baptismal. The springs of salvation are the waters of baptism. The joy of drawing water is the joy of receiving the life of God. The canticle teaches us that salvation is not only a future hope. It is a present gift. It is something we can taste and drink and rejoice in.

The Paschal dimension is clear. God has become our strength and our song. He has become our salvation. The canticle invites us to live with the joy of people who have been given living water.

Baruch 3: Wisdom as the Pattern of God’s Paschal Life

Baruch 3 gives us one of the most profound meditations on divine wisdom in Scripture. When we hear the word wisdom, we often think of clever sayings or practical advice. But biblical wisdom is something far deeper. It is the pattern of God’s own life. It is the way God has ordered creation from the beginning. It is the shape of reality as God intends it.

Baruch tells us that this wisdom is not discovered by human effort. It is not the result of study or philosophical reflection. It is revealed. It comes from God. And it is given to God’s people as a gift.

In the context of the Easter Vigil, Baruch 3 becomes a deeply Paschal text. It reminds us that the wisdom of God is not an idea but a way of life that moves from death to life. It is the wisdom that shaped creation, the wisdom that guided Israel, and the wisdom that is fully revealed in Christ. The New Testament calls Christ the wisdom of God. He is the living expression of the divine pattern.

Here is the sacramental dimension. In baptism, this divine wisdom is planted in us. We are not simply given rules to follow or ideals to imitate. We are given the life of Christ Himself. The pattern of His life is placed within us by the Holy Spirit. Baruch invites us to see that the Christian life is not about self improvement. It is about receiving the wisdom that comes from above. It is about being shaped into the likeness of Christ. Baptism is the doorway into that life.

Psalm 19 after Baruch 3
“Lord, you have the words of everlasting life.”

Baruch 3 reveals the wisdom of God, the pattern of divine life. Psalm 19 responds by praising the law of the Lord, the word of the Lord, the wisdom of the Lord that enlightens the eyes and rejoices the heart.

This psalm is Paschal because it points us to the Word made flesh. Christ is the wisdom of God. Christ is the law fulfilled. Christ is the light that enlightens every person. The psalm prepares us to recognize that the wisdom Baruch describes is not an idea but a person.

Sacramentally, this psalm reminds us that the Word of God is planted in us through baptism. The law written on stone is replaced by the law written on the heart. The wisdom of God becomes the life of the believer. The psalm invites us to delight in the Word that leads us to life.

Ezekiel 36

Ezekiel 36 is one of the clearest promises of what God intends to accomplish in the Paschal Mystery. The passage begins by naming the truth of Israel’s sin and the damage it has caused, yet God’s response is not to abandon His people. He acts to restore them for the sake of His own holiness. This is the first movement of Easter. God looks upon a world wounded by sin and chooses to heal it.

The reading then turns to the promise of cleansing. God says He will sprinkle clean water upon His people and wash them from all their impurities. This is the language of baptism. It is the assurance that God Himself purifies what we cannot purify. The waters of baptism do not symbolize cleansing. They accomplish it. They wash away sin and begin a new life.

Ezekiel then speaks of a new heart and a new spirit. God promises to remove the heart of stone and give a heart of flesh. He promises to place His own Spirit within His people so that they can walk in His ways. This is the heart of Easter. Christ rises not only to conquer death but to share His risen life with us. In baptism, the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is given to us so that we can live in the freedom of His resurrection.

The passage ends with a promise of belonging. God says, “You shall be my people, and I will be your God.” This is covenant language. Through the Paschal Mystery, God claims us as His own. Through baptism, He brings us into His household. Through the Spirit, He teaches us to live as His children.

Ezekiel 36 tells us that Easter is not only about what God has done in Christ. It is about what God desires to do in us. He cleanses. He recreates. He gives His Spirit. He makes us His own. This is the promise of Easter night. This is the promise of baptism. This is the promise of the God who makes all things new.

Psalm 51

“Create in me a clean heart, O God.”

Ezekiel 36 promises a new heart and a new spirit. Psalm 51 is the prayer that makes room for that promise. It is the cry of someone who knows that only God can cleanse the heart. Only God can renew the spirit. Only God can restore joy.

This psalm is Paschal because it speaks of mercy that is stronger than sin. It speaks of a God who washes, purifies, and recreates. It speaks of a heart that is broken open so that God can make it whole.

Sacramentally, this psalm is the prayer of the catechumen and the prayer of the baptized. It is the prayer of anyone who longs for the new heart God has promised. It is the prayer that prepares us to receive the Spirit who makes all things new.

Romans 6:3–11

Romans 6 is the heart of the Easter Vigil because it tells us what the Paschal Mystery means for us personally. Paul says that in baptism we are united with Christ in His death and in His resurrection. This is not symbolic language. Paul is describing something real. In the waters of baptism, we enter into the death of Christ so that we can rise with Him into new life.

Paul says that our old self is crucified with Christ. The person shaped by sin, fear, and the patterns of this world is put to death. This is the first movement of Easter. Christ does not rise alone. He brings us with Him. The Resurrection is not only His victory. It becomes ours.

The passage then speaks of freedom. Whoever has died is freed from sin. Baptism is not only forgiveness. It is liberation. It breaks the power of sin. It opens a new way of living. The same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is given to us so that we can walk in the freedom of His risen life.

Paul ends by calling us to consider ourselves dead to sin and alive for God in Christ Jesus. This is the identity given to us in baptism. We belong to the risen Lord. His life is our life. His victory is our victory. His future is our future.

Romans 6 tells us that Easter is not only something we celebrate. It is something we enter. It is something we receive. It is something we live. In baptism, the Paschal Mystery becomes our story. God makes us new. God raises us with Christ. God teaches us to live as people who have already passed from death into life.

The Gospel Acclamation

Psalm 118: “This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad.”

The Gospel Acclamation at the Easter Vigil is the first time since the beginning of Lent that we sing the word Alleluia. It is not just a musical moment. It is a theological moment. It is the sound of the Church receiving the Resurrection.

The verse we sing comes from Psalm 118. “This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad.” This is not simply a call to be cheerful. It is a proclamation that God has acted. The day we rejoice in is the day of the Resurrection, the day when death is broken, the day when the stone the builders rejected becomes the cornerstone of a new creation.

Psalm 118 is a victory psalm. It was sung by pilgrims entering the Temple, celebrating God’s saving work. At the Vigil, it becomes the song of the new people of God, entering into the mystery of Christ’s victory. It prepares our hearts to hear the Gospel not as a story from long ago, but as the announcement of something happening now. Christ is risen, and His risen life is offered to us.

There is also a sacramental dimension. The Alleluia is sung just before the proclamation of the Gospel, and the Gospel is the living voice of the risen Christ. When we stand and sing, we are welcoming Him. We are opening our hearts to the One who speaks life into us. The Alleluia is our response to the God who has already acted in baptism, who continues to act in the Eucharist, and who speaks His word of life into our hearts.

The Gospel Acclamation is the Church’s way of saying that the Resurrection is not only something we remember. It is something we receive. It is something we rejoice in. It is something we live.

The Gospel Reading

One of the unique features of the Easter Vigil is that the Gospel reading changes from year to year. The Vigil always proclaims the Resurrection, but each evangelist tells the story with a different emphasis. In Year A we hear Matthew. In Year B we hear Mark. In Year C we hear Luke. John is reserved for Easter morning. The Church does this intentionally. Each year we are invited to encounter the same mystery through a different voice, a different angle, a different grace.

This means that the Vigil never becomes routine. The Resurrection is not a story we master. It is a mystery that meets us again and again, and each Gospel opens a new window into the victory of Christ.

This year, in Year A, we hear Matthew’s account. Matthew tells us that Mary Magdalene and the other Mary go to the tomb at dawn. They come expecting death, but they find the stone rolled away. They encounter the angel who announces the heart of the Gospel. “He is not here, for He has been raised.” And then, on their way, they meet Jesus Himself.

Matthew’s Gospel highlights the sheer power of God at work in the Resurrection. The earth shakes. The stone is moved. The guards tremble. Death itself is overturned. The women who came in sorrow leave in joy, carrying the first proclamation of Easter.

There is a sacramental dimension here. The Resurrection is not only something we hear about. It is something we are drawn into. In baptism, we meet the risen Christ just as surely as the women did. In baptism, the stone is rolled back from our own hearts. In baptism, we are sent out to announce what we have seen and received.

Matthew’s Gospel reminds us that Easter is not only the triumph of Christ. It is the beginning of our new life in Him. The risen Lord meets us on the way, speaks our name, and sends us forth as witnesses of the life that has conquered death.

Religion News

Uncategorized

Easter

Easter Vigil

Previous Post

April 3, 2026

By His Wounds, Into His Shalom: The Promise of Isaiah 53–55

Next Post

April 9, 2026 Remembering Gerry Rauch’s Quiet Catholic Legacy

What did Moses' staff turn into as a sign for Pharaoh?

Select your answer to see how you score.

A dove A serpent A branch A frog