Easter Vigil March 30, 2024

Easter Vigil

March 30, 2024

We began the Lenten Season with fire, and we ended Holy Week with fire. 50 days ago, we burnt the palm from last year’s Palm Sunday liturgy and today we lit the Easter fire.  Fire is the sign of the spirit. (Isn’t it interesting that we see so many visitors when we deal with palm.  They come for ashes and palms.) The spirit lead Jesus and us into the desert. We walked in the darkness of our sin, and we thirsted for the water of baptism to renew us in our journey in the desert.

The fire of palms and Easter is a fire that overcomes the darkness of our lives. Darkness is more about the inability to discern objects often the ability to see is about seeing beyond the concrete world into the other world.  In the gospels it is the blind who see most clearly. The blind cry out “Son of David”, they see beyond the outside of Jesus into his messianic person, born in the line of David.  Those who are blind find that their other senses become clearer. 

This year I had number 5 and 6 surgeries on my eyes.  My vision is something I have come to take for granted.  I am glad doctors and surgeons can accomplish so much these days.

When I had my first large tear, surgery number 3, I was scheduled to travel to Rome for the canonization of Kateri Tekakwitha. I could not fly to Rome because of the gas bubble placed in my eye to hold the tear in place.  I recalled that our local saint had vision problems due to smallpox as a girl. Tekakwitha means to feel around.  I prayed and asked the pilgrims to pray, and my doctor told me I was fortunate to have any vision in my right eye. A year later I developed a tear in my left eye, a giant tear. Once again, our local saint came through.  2 years later I was sent to be vicar in the Mohawk Valley just down the road from the Kateri shrine.

Kateri was one of those people who could see with the eyes of faith, she had difficulty seeing the light and objects around her, but when she heard the words of the Jesuit missionaries she came to believe in Christ and his promises.  

This year I met another girl who could see clearly with her eyes of faith. Marie-Laure LeBlanc in the book and series  All the Light we cannot see  sees clearly what is most important in life.  This is what Elizebeth Hamilton has to say about the series “ …this is a miniseries about how sight can be deceptive. What looks one way, might be another.  The invisible may be what matters most.  The one who is blind may be able to see best.

Marie-Laure is quoted as saying  “The most important light of all is the light we cannot see.”

The story takes place in the contest of Nazi occupied France.  Marie-Laure as a child listened to radio broadcasts from the “Professor” when she is evacuated to friends of her father, she discovers the Professor is her host.  She uses his radio to make her own broadcasts, some are used to transmit coded messages to the underground.  He father has taken a gem from the museum and a Nazi wishes to find it because there is a legend it gives eternal life to the bearer. 

There are many references to light in the story, Like the stories of the gospel healings, often Mari-Laure sees more clearly than many around her.

Another fan of the professor’s broadcasts is a German boy.  He is tasked to seek and destroy the woman who is broadcasting readings from Jules Verne that in code give messages to the underground.  Werner discovers affection for the broadcaster and seeks to protect her.  She sees something good in him, even though he has conspired with the Nazis.

Hamilton again:  viewers might go so far as to see a vision of the kingdom of God in this story, an upside down, hidden world that nonetheless exists, and is in face even more important and meaningful that what we can see with just our two eyes.” …. 

Love is stronger. Love cannot be touched by pain. Love, ultimately, is the most important light we cannot see-and idea that once again recalls passages from the gospel where Jesus, who so often sees goodness where others see nothing, associates himself, his love his life with light. As their dear professor puts it, ‘Darkness last not even for one second when you turn on the light.”

All of us in our Lenten journey have been seeking for the light. Our fasting, our prayer, our alms are to provide us with a new light to see ourselves and the world in a new way.

I came to appreciate the gift of light that helped to illuminate the missal pages as I prayed the prayers at mass.  Thank God for word-processes that allowed the words to be enlarged. I was told by members of the congregation that the words were visible from the pews. Isn’t it wonderful that God has provided men and woman who know how to heal broken eyes and bodies.  Not too many years ago, I would have been blind forever.  Thank God I didn’t have to shop for a white cane.  I am thankful for a car that has safety features that keep me safe as I drive.

I stopped taking things for granted. I discovered we live in a world designed for the young and healthy.   The labels on my eye drop bottles are so small I need a magnifying glass to read them.  Thank God the caps are color coded.  Why do all my appliances have black letters on  a black background?

I pray that what I cannot see with my eyes I see with   my eyes of faith.  With the eyes of faith, one sees medical breakthroughs as a miracle. One sees the power of intercessory prayer as real.   The words of scriptures and the psalms are words of the truth of God’s presence in our world.

Our 40 days in the desert were not wasted they served to sharpen our sight, as they did for Jesus.  Back to the story  All the light we cannot see.

Another fan of the professor’s broadcasts is a German boy.  He is tasked to seek and destroy the woman who is broadcasting readings from Jules Verne that in code give messages to the underground.  Werner discovers affection for the broadcaster and seeks to protect her.  She sees something good in him, even though he has conspired with the Nazis.

Hamilton again:  viewers might go so far as to see a vision of the kingdom of God in this story, an upside down, hidden world that nonetheless exists, and is in face even more important and meaningful that what we can see with just our two eyes.” …. 

Love is stronger. Love cannot be touched by pain. Love, ultimately, is the most important light we cannot see-and idea that once again recalls passages from the gospel where Jesus, who so often sees goodness where others see nothing, associates himself, his love his life with light. As their dear professor puts it, ‘ Darkness last not even for one second when you turn on the light.”

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • January 18, 2026
Now that we are beyond the Christmas season, we are returning to normal. In our first reading, Isaiah reminds us that we are servants. In this new year of grace, we are called to be servants. We are learning about humility; being humble means thinking less of myself and more of others. Is this what it means to be a servant? We hear the words of Isaiah as we begin the annual week of Christian unity. It is wonderful that men and women from different denominations can come together in prayer. This afternoon many will gather to remember the life and witness of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King was a true servant to the mission of justice for all God’s people. Dr. King was a Christian who acted as a servant to the kingdom of God. Dr. King was a dreamer who shared his dream with the world. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream . . . I have a dream that one day in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today . . . This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning. “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountain side, let freedom ring.” And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. Being a servant of the gospel means being a dreamer who works to make the dream a reality. With our brothers and sisters of many faiths, we are servants of the kingdom of God. Like John the Baptist, we prepare the way for the coming of God’s kingdom. Each one of us, have been baptized and received the gift of the Holy Spirit. With the spirit to help us we are servants of the kingdom of God.

The Epiphany of the Lord, Year A

By Fr. Christopher Welch • January 4, 2026
 From Pope Leo’s Christmas homily: “For millennia, across the earth, peoples have gazed up at the sky, giving names to the silent stars, and seeing images therein. In their imaginative yearning, they tried to read the future in the heavens, seeking on high for a truth that was absent below amidst their homes. Yet, as if grasping in the dark, they remained lost, confounded by their own oracles. On this night, however, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined” (Isaiah 9:2). Behold the star that astonishes the world, a spark newly lit and blazing with life: “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2:11). Into time and space — in our midst — comes the One without whom we would not exist. He who gives his life for us lives among us, illuminating the night with his light of salvation. There is no darkness that this star does not illumine, for by its light all humanity beholds the dawn of a new and eternal life.” Stars are what this season of Christmas is all about. We look at the night sky and see the stars that remind us of the nativity of our Lord. At night God comes to speak to us in dreams. Sometimes the dreams tell what to do as they did for Joseph and the Magi. The star in today’s celebration is a star that points out the birth of the Christ child. Each child is born with a divine spark. Each human person has the dignity of being a child of God. I am reminded of the words of Leonard Bernstein. He calls his poem Greeting : “When a boy is born, the world is born again and takes its first breath with him. When a girl is born the world stops turning round and keeps a moment hushed wonder. Every time a child is born, for the space of that brief instant, the world is pure." This time of year, we celebrate the birth of our God. The stars on our trees remind us of our connection with our God. The words of Frost are appropriate here: O Star (the fairest one in sight), We grant your loftiness the right To some obscurity of cloud— It will not do to say of night, Since dark is what brings out your light. Some mystery becomes the proud. But to be wholly taciturn In your reserve is not allowed. Say something to us we can learn By heart and when alone repeat. Say something! And it says, ‘I burn.’ But say with what degree of heat. Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade. Use language we can comprehend. Tell us what elements you blend. It gives us strangely little aid, But does tell something in the end. And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite, Not even stooping from its sphere, It asks a little of us here. It asks of us a certain height, So when at times the mob is swayed To carry praise or blame too far, We may choose something like a star To stay our minds on and be staid. Like Mary, we ponder all these things in our heart. As we begin this new year, we are to be like the star who ponders all things. Sometimes it will mean to burn, it will not always be clear, but with the heart of Christ to guide us we will make sense of it. On this New Year's Day, we look to the stars and ponder what this Christmas 2025 has meant to us.

Christmas Day, Year A

By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti • December 25, 2025
Isaiah prophesied: The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. (Is 9:1) John the Evangelist wrote: ...the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…(Jn 1:5) The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world (Jn 1:9) And Jesus said: ...I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life…(Jn 8:12) Beginning with Isaiah’s prophecy of the Light of Emmanuel — God-with-us — some 2,800 years ago, through to Christ’s entry into this world of darkness in Bethlehem as the Child of Light, to his ministry of Light and Life, and racing through the millennia to us today throughout the world, to us here in St. Mary’s parish, to the family whose children were baptized at St. Mary’s this past weekend: The True Light of the World, the Dayspring from on high, the One Morning Star that never sets, the Word who existed in the beginning with God and who, from the beginning, was God, Jesus Christ the Light continually breaks into the darkness of our world and dark nights of our lives. At each Christmas, in the dark night of the world, we celebrate the daybreak of the Light of Christ coming into the world. At each Easter, we celebrate the breaking forth of the Light and Life of the Resurrected Christ from the darkness of the tomb of sin and death. And at each baptism, we recall and celebrate both, as we light the baptismal candle from the Paschal candle (that is, the Christ Candle) and say to the newly baptized, “Receive the Light of Christ.” We then give the parents and godparents, but frankly all of us , a solemn charge: This light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly. This child…has been enlightened by Christ. [They are] to walk always as a child of the light. We are to walk not only as children of God enlightened by Christ, but we are to walk also — each one of us — as bearers of Christ and His Light into the world. We can each bear a torch of the Christ Light as we walk with one another through the dark valleys of the night of each other’s lives, illuminating the darkened path for our sisters or brothers, walking with them as long as we can, until another bearer of Christ’s Light joins us to journey with them further. Never underestimate the brightness of Christ’s Light in the smallest of actions, a kind word or simple deed. In fact, St. Mother Teresa of Kolkata counselled that the smallest of our actions may be infused with the brightest light of love. She said: Don’t look for the big things, just do small things with great love…the smaller the thing, the greater must be our love. And never forget that a light appears as its brightest in the deepest dark of night. The Christ Light in the smallest of our actions may be the brightest light in the darkest part of the night of someone's life. My sisters and brothers, the Light of Christ has been entrusted to us to be kept burning brightly, not for ourselves alone, but for the life of the world. Let us walk with one another, sharing the Christ-Light entrusted to us with each other and with the world outside the walls of this Church!