In the Book of Genesis, the first thing God creates is light. Not so God can see, but rather so that we can. The Bible and all of Creation will reveal God.
Light illumines everything. Without it, nothing is visible. Yet light itself is invisible! It must be reflected off of something. But for the full miracle of light to be experienced, one more thing is required — sight. The mystery of light needs a source, something to reflect it, and someone to perceive it.
Psalm 19:2 proclaims, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the firmament proclaims the work of God’s hands.” Photos from the James Webb Space Telescope reveal the sublime truth of this passage. And here on Earth, to those with spiritual eyes, every flower, bird, butterfly, towering mountain and crashing wave speak of the power, majesty and glory of God.
The Book of Exodus describes a burning bush, on fire but not consumed, as God reveals the Divine Name to Moses. A pillar of fire leads the Hebrews through the desert from slavery to freedom. The prophet Isaiah proclaims, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (9:1). For Christians, that great light is the full knowledge of God revealed in Jesus Christ.
In Catholicism, a vigil light bears witness to the presence of Christ in every tabernacle, in every church. Catholics light votive candles for special intentions and for the repose of our dearly departed. We light candles at baptisms, as the faith is spread from parents and godparents to the newly baptized. And the Paschal Candle at funerals signifies the presence of Christ in our darkest hour.
Nowhere does light play a more central role in Catholic worship than in the Easter Triduum. The Holy Thursday liturgy ends with a solemn procession bearing the Blessed Sacrament to the Altar of Repose. The faithful keep vigil by candlelight while the church goes dark. The altar is stripped, the tabernacle emptied, and the vigil light extinguished.
No Mass is celebrated on Good Friday as the Church mourns. Two candles accompany the veneration of the cross; later, two candles attend Christ’s Eucharistic presence for Communion. Then the church plunges again into darkness. That evening, the traditional Tenebrae (Latin for “darkness”) service employs a candelabra with seven candles. One by one, after each reading or song, a flame is extinguished until only one light remains.
As this last candle is borne out of the church and darkness descends, the worshipers slam their prayer books on the pews, symbolizing Christ’s “harrowing of hell.”
The Holy Saturday liturgy begins where Good Friday left off, in darkness. As night falls, a new fire is ignited and blessed. The new Paschal Candle, inscribed with the numerals of the current year, is consecrated. The lit Paschal Candle is borne aloft into the darkened church while a deacon or celebrant intones three times, “Christ, our light!” The people respond, “Thanks be to God!”
The new flame passes from one taper to the next until light illumines the whole church. The Exsultet (Latin for “Rejoice”) is chanted, praising the light of Christ that shattered forever the darkness of death and sin.
Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12)
But Jesus also says, “You are the light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14) What Jesus is, we are called to be. Our words, actions, witness and relationships are to reflect God so that God continues to be revealed.
This calling to be the light of the world may seem overwhelming, if not impossible, given the deepening darkness of the world around us. The Gospel of Saint John reassures us: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (1:5). The darker the night, the brighter the guiding star.
Featured Image: Worshipers hold candles that illumine the darkness during the Easter Vigil at St. John the Evangelist Church in Center Moriches, New York. (OSV News/Gregory A. Shemitz/U.S.)
