April 2026
Dear Friends,
Happy Easter!
“The Light of Christ . . . Thanks be to God.”
As you might imagine, whoever writes these reflections must have them completed and submitted to Bro. Stephen well in advance of the date the Magnificats get mailed out to you. So, I’m writing this on Sunday, March 8, the beginning of Daylight Saving Time — and this got me thinking about light.
I’m not a big fan of Daylight Saving Time. I don’t really see the point of it, and I don’t like how it messes up my internal clock. From my perspective, the only good thing about it is that, for the first time in months, our Chapel has natural light during Evening Prayer. The evening light comes through the west-facing windows and casts a lovely pattern of colors. This will continue until the fall, but I’ll probably start taking it for granted and stop noticing it within a week or two.
The first part of the Easter Vigil is traditionally called the Lucernarium, which comes from the Latin word for light. It begins in darkness. The priest blesses a fire and then blesses the Paschal Candle, which he lights from that blessed fire. A procession then begins, with a minister carrying the Paschal Candle. Three times he calls out, “The Light of Christ,” and the congregation responds, “Thanks be to God.” Inside the church, all members of the congregation hold candles lit from the Paschal Candle, and the church is filled with light. It is a dramatic moment.
We recall the Light of Christ coming into the world and overcoming the darkness of sin and death. If you attend the Easter Vigil — and I strongly encourage you to do so — I have no doubt that you will be moved by it.
But then what?
We will soon be completing Lent, a period of penance and sacrifice leading up to this momentous occasion. And on the Monday after Easter Sunday, it’s back to business as usual. We were waiting for the Light of Christ to come, and now that it has, we take it for granted and stop noticing it — not in a week or two, but usually by the next day. That doesn’t seem right.
While it is probably impossible to maintain the spiritual high we might feel on Easter throughout the entire year, most of us can likely do better at keeping the Light of Christ alive than we currently do.
One of my favorite writers is St. John Henry Newman. A couple of months ago, Pope Leo named him a Doctor of the Church and co-Patron Saint of Education, alongside St. Thomas Aquinas. Cardinal Newman’s books are genuinely challenging, but he also wrote an enormous body of prayers, reflections, and poems that are very accessible. You may already be familiar with his famous reflection on vocation, which begins, “God has created me to do some definite service.”
My favorite poem of his is called “The Pillar of Cloud,” though it is better known by its first line, “Lead, Kindly Light.” It is not a long poem, but for the sake of space I will include only the first stanza. If you would like to read the rest, it is easily found online, along with some beautiful musical arrangements.
Lead, Kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me.
Most Catholics make some sort of Lenten resolution. May I suggest that we also try making an Easter resolution? Don’t worry — you won’t have to give anything up. During the fifty days of Eastertide, try to pray the first three words of this poem at least once a day: “Lead, Kindly Light.” Perhaps say it when you get up in the morning or before you go to bed at night. Or say it whenever you feel discouraged, lost, or lonely — or when you face a decision and aren’t sure which way to turn.
Trusting the Light of Christ to guide us will go a long way toward keeping the spirit of Easter alive in our hearts.
May the peace and blessings of the Risen Christ be with you and your families this Easter and throughout the year.
God bless,
Bro. Patrick Sarsfield, S.M.