Last night at the Easter Vigil, in a dark church, the Easter fire was lit, and the Easter candle was lit and blessed. The symbol of Jesus' light in our world.
This liturgy is beautiful in its uniqueness. Different years, different things touch me. Last night it was the Litany of the Saints which was sung by the choir. All those holy men and women praying for us.
The homily also caught my attention. Father referenced a book called The Road. It is post-apocalyptic fiction in which a father and son make their way through a nuclear winter towards what they hope is a better place. The father is always reminding the boy that they are the "good guys" and that they have "the fire".
To make a long story short: We have the fire within us. We must allow others to sense the fire within us, that is God's love.
Mass was about an hour and 40 minutes. My boys did a great job altar serving. The choir was awesome. Two people were received into the church and two others were confirmed. One little girl - it appeared - was making her First Communion. No mention was made of it, but she and her parents (whom I see often at church) brought up the gifts and she had a white dress.
This morning, I went with my dear hubby to the early Mass. It was almost standing room only. We found seats, fortunately, because he can not stand for long with his knee issues. The homily was related to yesterday's. Shorter. And Father spoke about how this Lent had been one of the best ever for him. But that it involved a painful letting go. A dying to self.
A bummer for me, because this Lent was not one of my better ones, in my judgment. But it didn't involve a lot of pain, either. Except maybe for the pain of not going anywhere. And then again, perhaps God has done things which I do not understand and do not see at this time, but will understand later.
Alleluia! He has risen!
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