Light in the Darkness

Feb 5

Mass at Holy Infant Parish in Durham, NC.

I spent the last week visiting some of our parishes in Florida and North Carolina. I started the week at Our Lady of Light Parish in Estero and ended the week celebrating the Light of Christ and the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple at Holy Infant Parish in Durham, NC. While my week was bookended by the image of light, the days in between were filled with images of darkness, destruction, and death. During the last days of January, we all heard of the plane crashes in Washington, DC, and Philadelphia. We saw pictures and videos of the crashes, the fires, and the aftermath of these tragedies. In the days since we are slowly learning the stories of those who lost their lives in these tragedies.

We mourn the young and the old. We confront our own mortality every time we turn on the television news or open our computers. We grapple with the classic dilemma of “Why do bad things happen to good people?” How can God tolerate evil, injustice, and the suffering of the innocent? Where is God in the school shootings, the plane crashes, and the natural disasters that occur around the world?

For Christians, the answer is not found in a book or a philosophy, but in a person. That person is Jesus. The answer is Jesus. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. He took on our sins, He conquered death. Yet still we suffer. Theologians and saints have struggled to explain this for centuries. In the Introduction to the Devout Life (Part IV), St. Francis de Sales teaches that whether we are experiencing consolation or affliction, we must never forget the love of God. When we keep this in mind, we will not be shaken or overwhelmed. Jesus is our anchor and our star. He guides us through the darkness of this life.

Last week, our world seemed to be filled with darkness. It was easy to be discouraged. News reports called it the deadliest week in aviation in this country since 2001. Yet Christ gives us hope and strength. His light brings us life. St. Paul tells us: “Therefore, we are not discouraged, rather, although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this momentary affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to what is seen but unseen; for what is seen is transitory, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).

Last Sunday, as I drove from North Carolina to Delaware, I thought of the darkness of the last few days. I drove through Washington and prayed for the souls of the departed. I spoke to my family in northeast Philadelphia and heard about the way neighbors and first responders were coming together to mourn, to pray, and to hope. I looked back at the blessing of the candles that morning. I thought of the light being held by parishioners at Holy Infant, and the hope that was in the prayers and petitions offered at Mass.

The celebration of the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple is one of my favorite feasts because it straddles the greatest seasons of the church year. It looks back to Christmas and looks forward to Easter. It weaves together the themes of joy and sorrow, gratitude, and grief. It confronts the reality of death and the promise of new life.

Looking ahead to Easter, I think of the greatest candle in our tradition, the Paschal Candle. I remembered the prayer said after the lighting of this symbol of hope and new life: “May the light of Christ rising in glory dispel the darkness of our hearts and minds.” After a week of shadows and gloom, this prayer reminded me that Christ will continue to shine in our world. Good Friday will give way to Holy Saturday…and Easter is on its way.