Exulting in a Word

Sometimes I think about words. Words are wonderful things. I love words; I love to read them, I love to write them. It always astounds me how much a single word can express, how much it means. It astounds me that I can pick up my journal and read something that I wrote several months ago, and still feel exactly the same as I did then. It is as if the words, whether you read them or write them, capture a little of yourself and keep it imprisoned in themselves until you look at them again. Yet a word is only a certain configuration of letters, shapes really, on a page, and that configuration of shapes expresses something about us and the world around us. How can that be? My classmates will understand when I pull the Mystery Card, but that isn't enough. I wish I could know.

Today I was thinking about the word "exult." I thought about this word several months ago. I was sitting in the choir loft during the Easter vigil. Father Bob was reading the Exultet, and all was dark save for those little spots of dancing light down in the congregation, the little Easter candles. They seemed to be the words themselves, the words taking form in light.

Rejoice, heavenly powers! Sing, choirs of angels!
Exult, all creation around God's throne!
Jesus Christ, our King, is risen!
Sound the trumpet of salvation!


As it often does, my mind wandered a little, because I was thinking of the word "exult." It is such a small word, only five letters long, yet it is such a special word. It sounds like what it is. It sounds like water bubbling up, laughter, light, all at once. Some words are like that. "Exult" is a word that only has meaning in the context of what was going on around me at that moment during the Easter vigil. What if you were not a Catholic? Would you understand that word? If you were Jewish, perhaps you might. After all, the Israelites walked with God. If you were a Puritan, a Muslim, would you understand what it means? I can't think that you would. To me, the word "exult" can only have meaning in the context of our salvation.

The dictionary says that "exult" means "to show or feel a lively or triumphant joy; rejoice exceedingly  be highly elated or jubilant." For example, "They exulted over their victory." I suppose if you were a pagan and you killed your mortal enemies you could exult. But is that really exulting? It can't be the same thing as "Exult, all creation around God's throne!" We exult around God's throne because he is love. He is our God, and he loves us so much that he gave us his Son to die for us. That is such a wonderful thought that my heart cannot help but exult. Today as I think about that word I feel almost exactly the same as I did that Easter morning. 

I make a motion to change the definition of exultation. Exultation is when it is dark as night, and then the organ breaks out into a glorious prelude before we sing the Gloria, and the whole church is full of light and song. It is when a friend is baptized. It is when you sing Handel's Hallelujah Chorus with your friends at the end of a beautiful Mass. It is Christ redeeming us with his great love.

I don't care what the dictionary says. That is exultation.