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.”

By Fr. Christopher Welch February 15, 2026
The last line of our gospel speaks of saying yes and saying no:  Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No’. (Matthew 5:37) When we say ‘yes’ to one thing, we may be saying ‘no’ to another. Sometimes our choices are among goods. We may need to prayerfully consider what to say ‘yes’ to. The words of Jesus imply that once we have made a choice, we need to stick with it. Too often we say ‘yes’ and later regret what we said ‘yes’ to. It may take time to grow into the choice we have made. We may need to stick with it for a time, and in time, our choice may feel right. When I took on my first assignment as a pastor, Bishop Hubbard advised me, “Make no large decisions the first year.” I found this to be sage advice. I found it takes time to get to know others and to find my way. Those who are in recovery are advised not to enter into any new relationships in their first year of recovery. This is also sage advice; the first year is about focusing on a new life of recovery, it is not the time to begin a new relationship. In time things make sense. I recall the words of Tevye and Golde in Fiddler on the Roof : (Tevye) "Golde I'm asking you a question..." Do you love me? (Golde) You're a fool (Tevye) "I know..." But do you love me? (Golde) Do I love you? For twenty-five years I've washed your clothes Cooked your meals, cleaned your house Given you children, milked the cow After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now? (Tevye) Golde, The first time I met you Was on our wedding day I was scared (Golde) I was shy (Tevye) I was nervous (Golde) So was I (Tevye) But my father and my mother Said we'd learn to love each other And now I'm asking, Golde Do you love me? (Golde) I'm your wife (Tevye) "I know..." But do you love me? (Golde) Do I love him? For twenty-five years I've lived with him Fought him, starved with him Twenty-five years my bed is his If that's not love, what is? (Tevye) Then you love me? (Golde) I suppose I do (Tevye) And I suppose I love you too (Both) It doesn't change a thing But even so After twenty-five years It's nice to know. The most important ‘yes’ we make is a ‘yes’ to the Lord. It may take time to figure out what this may entail. This was true for Mary when she said ‘yes’ to the angel. Jospeh also had to say ‘yes’. Neither knew where that ‘yes’ would take them, and so it is for us. I am reminded of the words of Michel Quoist in his book Prayers of Life : Help Me to Say ‘Yes’ I am afraid of saying ‘Yes,’ Lord. Where will you take me? I am afraid of drawing the longer straw, I am afraid of signing my name to an unread agreement, I am afraid of the ‘yes’ that entails other ‘yeses.’ And yet I am not at peace. You pursue me, Lord, you besiege me. I seek out the din for fear of hearing you, but in a moment of silence you slip through. I turn from the road, for I have caught sight of you, but at the end of the path you are there awaiting me. Where shall I hide? I meet you everywhere. Is it then impossible to escape you? But I am afraid to say ‘Yes,’ Lord. I am afraid of putting my hand in yours, for you hold on to it. I am afraid of meeting your eyes, for you can win me. I am afraid of your demands, for you are a jealous God. I am hemmed in, yet I hide. I am captured, yet I struggle, and I fight knowing that I am defeated. For you are the stronger, Lord, you own the world and you take it from me. When I stretch out my hand to catch hold of people and things, they vanish before my eyes. It's no fun, Lord, I can't keep anything for myself. The flower I pick fades in my hands. My laugh freezes on my lips. The waltz I dance leaves me restless and uneasy. Everything seems empty, Everything seems hollow, You have made a desert around me. I am hungry and thirsty, And the whole world cannot satisfy me. And yet I loved you, Lord; what have I done to you? I worked for you; I gave myself for you. O great and terrible God, What more do you want? * * * Son, I want more for you and for the world. Until now you have planned your actions, but I have no need of them. You have asked for my approval, you have asked for my support, you have wanted to interest me in your work. But don't you see, son, that you were reversing the roles? I have watched you, I have seen your good will, And I want more than you, now. You will no longer do your own works, but the will of your Father in heaven. Say ‘Yes,’ son. I need your ‘yes’ as I needed Mary's ‘yes’ to come to earth, For it is I who must do your work, It is I who must live in your family, It is I who must be in your neighborhood, and not you. For it is my look that penetrates, and not yours, My words that carry weight, and not yours, My life that transforms, and not yours. Give all to me, abandon all to me. I need your ‘yes’ to be united with you and to come down to earth, I need your ‘yes’ to continue saving the world! * * * O Lord, I am afraid of your demands, but who can resist you? That your Kingdom may come and not mine, That your will may be done and not mine, Help me to say ‘Yes.’
By Fr. Christopher Welch February 8, 2026
Deacon Greg Kandra tells the story of meeting a person who chose to convert to the Catholic faith. He asked why this person chose to convert and was told, "because of my boss.” Deacon Kandra asked why and was told, “He seemed to glow with the light of God and I decided I wanted what he had.” I am reminded of the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, “What you do speaks so loudly I cannot hear what you are saying.” It is not the words that attract people to the Lord; often it is how we live our lives that makes the difference. Jesus reminds us not to hide our light under a basket. The prophet Isaiah gives us a list of how we shine our light in the world: Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them, and do not turn your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn... (Isaiah 58:7-8) Many will stand on soap boxes and proclaim how good they are. It is not their words that speak to us but their actions. This is what Emerson is speaking about and what that person’s boss proclaimed. They did not hide their lamp but let their good works speak for them. St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta spoke about this in her poem Anyway : People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered; Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; Be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; Succeed anyway. If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; Be honest and frank anyway. What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; Build anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; Be happy anyway. The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; Give the world the best you've got anyway. You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God; It was never between you and them anyway.  (Inscribed on the wall of Mother Teresa's children's home in Calcutta) In these cold dark days, we are invited to share the warmth and light of the spirit of our God with those who we meet.
By Fr. Christopher Welch February 1, 2026
THE SEARCH by Shel Silverstein I went to find a pot of gold That's waiting where the rainbow ends. I searched and searched and searched and searched And searched and searched, and then— There it was, deep in the grass, Under an old and twisty bough. It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last.... What do I search for now? So often we look at life as a destination. How often as children did we bug the driver of the car with the endless question, “Are we there yet?” The spiritual masters remind us that life is not about the destination, but the journey. How much we would miss if we didn’t take the journey. The Prophet Zephaniah encourages us to “seek the Lord”. One way we seek the Lord is by our poverty of spirit. We are blessed as we begin to recognize that I am not in charge, God is the one in charge. I let God set the agenda. One aspect of wisdom is knowing I am not wise. St. Paul, in his letter to the community at Corinth, speaks about true wisdom: God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong. Sometimes it is the foolish who get it: the foolish see that the journey is the goal, not the pot of gold under the rainbow. The challenge is learning to live day by day and let God be the one in charge. Sometimes God acts to remind us of who is in charge. The storm this week reminded us that we are not in charge. Our plans needed to be changed to address the issues of the storm. We had a choice; we could have cursed the storm or adjusted our expectations. We are on a new journey. The pot of God may have hidden in the people and projects we addressed this week. In a few short weeks we will begin the season of Lent, a journey we take toward the most important days of the year. Holy Week lays out for us the mysteries of our faith: the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord. How will we take this journey? How will we seek the Lord? Lent is a search, not for pots of gold, but for a deeper relationship with the Lord. I went to find a pot of gold That's waiting where the rainbow ends. I searched and searched and searched and searched And searched and searched, and then— There it was, deep in the grass, Under an old and twisty bough. It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last.... What do I search for now?