The Paschal Candle

Lumière, the suave and vivacious character in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, isn’t the only prominent candle drawing crowds these days. I, the paschal candle, am also attracting large numbers of people. Like Lumière, I too am a talking candle, but I speak the language of sign and symbol.

Lumière’s name comes from the French word meaning light. My name comes from the Hebrew word Pesach, meaning Passover and the Greek word Paschein, meaning to suffer. I make a new appearance each year around the time of Passover and my body is carved with the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, alpha and omega. These letters refer to Christ as the beginning and the end and they have their scriptural roots in the Book of Revelation: “I am the Alpha and the Omega,”* says the Lord God, “the one who is and who was and who is to come.”

Like Lumière, I provide light. I get my light from the blessed fire on the night before Easter. I symbolize Christ, the light of the world, who overcame the darkness of sin and death, of gloom and despair.

Like Lumière, a servant to the prince, I too am a servant and I serve the people of God. As the symbol of Jesus, I serve the way Jesus serves, I stay by your side. When you are baptized, I am at your side. When you die, I am at your side. Each time I offer you my light, part of me dies so that you may live in new light. I am an eternal flame of hope burning not only beside you, but within you.

The First Day of the Week

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John disagree on the circumstances surrounding the Resurrection of Jesus, but they all agree that the Resurrection and post-Resurrection appearances took place on the first day of the week.

After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to see the tomb. Matthew 28:1

Very early when the sun had risen, on the first day of the week, they came to the tomb. Mark 16:2

When he had risen, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene. Mark 16:9

But at daybreak on the first day of the week they took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. Luke 24:1

On the first day of the week, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark,  and saw the stone removed from the tomb.  John 20:1

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, “Peace be with you.” John 20:19.

On the first day of the week, Jesus encountered the disciples. He broke open the scriptures for them and ate and drank with them. It naturally flowed that the first day of the week, later to be called Sunday, became the day for Christians to worship.

More than 2,000 years later, we too gather on this, the first day of the week. On this day, as he did with the first disciples, the Lord reveals himself to us. On this day, he breaks open the Scriptures. On this day, he eats and drinks with us. This is why every Sunday is called a little Easter. This is why we cry out with the psalmist, “This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad.” On this day we are reminded that we are to live in the light of Christ and in the newness of the Resurrection, not only on Sundays, but on every day of the week.

If a Palm Tree could Talk

My real name is arecaceae, but most people call me palm. I love warm weather and sandy beaches so I grow best in the tropics or near a coastline. Many people only notice me when they vacation in Florida or California. Because I am an icon for travelers, I get my photograph taken a lot--mainly for postcards. These pictures give the illusion that I live in paradise but that’s only part of my story.

My family is 80 million years old—older than the human race! Because I have been around for so long, my family tree is larger than the average hardwood’s. I have thousands of cousins all over the world. From the beginning, I was recognized as symbolic. People saw my branches as a sign of victory. That’s why my branches were given as a sort of trophy to ancient Romans who won battles and competitions. The writers of Scripture knew me well. They rested at my feet after a long journey in the day’s heat and I gave them shade. They satisfied their hunger with my fruits. Because my trunk stood strong and tall amidst the forces of nature, they likened me to persons who were honest and good: “The just shall flourish like the palm tree, shall grow like a cedar of Lebanon” (Psalm 92:12). This is one of the 30 times I am mentioned in the Bible. My most familiar Scripture story is the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. My branches were cut and strewn along the road as a welcome mat. They were also held high in the hands of believers to greet the Christ with festive joy. That was a great day but I knew that day was only part of the story of Jesus.

I had known Jesus since he was a child. He too rested in my shade and ate my fruits. Jesus was a giver. He gave of himself to others until it finally killed him. Like Jesus, I too know what it means to give for the sake of others. I endure the pain of stripping and carving and cutting and burning and of having others draw out my sap. I know the pain is only temporary. Once the pain is past, I become something new: baskets and furniture and food and oil and wine. When this happens, I get a new name, a new identity, a new purpose and I live on in ways new and unimaginable. That’s why I am overjoyed to be held in your hands this weekend, to be sprinkled with holy water, to be shaped into a cross or to be wrapped around the cross that hangs in your home. May I be for you a symbol of the victory of grace over sin, a symbol of goodness and truth and self-giving, that you may be strengthened to write the rest of your story.

Announcing a New Year!

This weekend parts of the world are celebrating a new year. That’s because people around the earth celebrate March 25, the Annunciation of the Lord, as a new year of hope. Marking this day as the start of the new year began in 525 with the advent of Anno Domini (AD), because it was believed that a new time of grace began with the Incarnation of Christ at the Annunciation.

The Annunciation marks the day the archangel Gabriel announced to Mary that she would bear the Son of God. The Annunciation is the first Joyful Mystery of the Rosary, and it is from the Annunciation that we derive the Angelus prayer. The Solemnity of the Annunciation is so significant that it is always commemorated no matter where it falls during the week or the season. For example, if March 25 falls on a Sunday during Lent, the Annunciation is moved to and celebrated on the following Monday. And when the Mass is celebrated during the Lenten season, it always includes the Gloria, which is not normally sung or prayed during Lent, as an extra mark of festivity and joy.

March 25 typically occurs on or near the spring equinox, a time in the Northern Hemisphere when the light of springtime overcomes the darkness of winter, when dormant plants and trees begin to awaken to new life. The Annunciation is a powerful reminder that when life seems barren and dead, God bursts forth with light and new life.

This year the Annunciation falls in the middle of our Lenten journey. May we who are also called to bear the God of love hear anew the words first addressed to Mary: “The Lord is with you” …  “Do not be afraid” … “For nothing will be impossible for God.”

The Power of Water

When I was a child, I nearly drowned. I was playing in the Atlantic Ocean at Jones Beach, Long Island when I ventured a bit too far from shore. I was not a great swimmer and when I saw that big wave coming, I panicked. Seeing the fear on my face, my aunt Carolyn yelled, “Just let go and ride the wave.” I did and it carried me safely to shore. Water is powerful.

The power of water prompts surrender. I consider the glorious and breathtaking sights of nature, such as the Grand Canyon, that have been carved and molded by water and I marvel at the power of water to reshape and reform. Water changes things.

In Today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the Samaritan woman that he is the “Living water.” Allowing herself to surrender to this living water, the Samaritan woman is changed. In her encounter with Jesus, the woman’s story is rewritten. Freed from her past she can now live in newness and joy.

This Gospel, which appears in year A of our lectionary, is always proclaimed on the third Sunday in Lent when there is a Scrutiny Rite for our Elect. This reading is particularly appropriate for the Elect, who are preparing for baptism, and who, like the Samaritan woman, long to be changed by knowing Jesus.

Because we are currently in year A, all of us will hear this Gospel this weekend. May we who are already baptized be moved to surrender to a deeper encounter with Jesus. May we, like the Samaritan woman, allow Jesus to rewrite our story. In the trials and turmoil of life, may we trust the grace of our baptism to carry us safely to shore.