The sun was setting over the seminary grounds in Wickliffe. Food trucks and vendors had put away their goods. The Christian bands who had filled the summer air with song had played their final numbers. The daylight would soon give way to a warm August night, but the Fest was not over yet. The outdoor mass was about to begin.
In his homily, Bishop Perez reflected on the theme of this year’s Fest: “Be the Light.” As Christians, we are called to bring the joy and hope of Christ to light the darkness of our world. We are called to be the light. But, as Bishop Perez explained, you can’t be something you don’t have. In order to be the light, you first need to have the light, which comes from our relationship with Christ.
His words called to mind the Easter Vigil mass my family attends each year. At the start of the Vigil, we file into a dark church and sit in the pews holding unlit candles. We wait for the procession to enter the church with the paschal candle. Parishioners pass its flame, wick to wick, as the church slowly grows brighter. We receive the flame, and we become the light.
The Fest concluded with the call to perform acts of kindness in our community. Our goal, shared by all, was to collectively achieve one million acts of light.
A couple weeks after attending the Fest, I had the opportunity to live out its message to “Be the Light.” My company allows us to use one day each year as a Volunteer Day, and I chose to spend that day with the Ursuline Sisters. I also scheduled some time to stay with the sisters at the motherhouse. The weekend offered an opportunity for personal reflection, followed by service. In the words of the Fest, it was a chance to rekindle the light within me and, in turn, share it with others.
I arrived at the motherhouse on a quiet Saturday afternoon. Sister Dorothy greeted me and showed me to the guest room. It had been about six months since my last visit to the motherhouse, and it had been over two years since I had done my last extended internship with the sisters. As my life’s journey unfolds and as I continue to grow and change, something continues to draw me back to the community. This wasn’t something I verbalized to Sister Dorothy that afternoon, but as our conversation went on, she responded to my unspoken thoughts.
Sister Dorothy told me about a book she was reading called Something More: Excavating Your Authentic Self. The premise of the book is that we seek out the people who mean the most to us because they are reflections of our own soul, our most authentic self. Her words resonated with my return to the motherhouse and the relationships I have developed with the sisters over the years. By spending time in their presence and immersing myself in their stories, I receive new clarity into my own journey.
His words called to mind the Easter Vigil mass my family attends each year. At the start of the Vigil, we file into a dark church and sit in the pews holding unlit candles. We wait for the procession to enter the church with the paschal candle. Parishioners pass its flame, wick to wick, as the church slowly grows brighter. We receive the flame, and we become the light.
The Fest concluded with the call to perform acts of kindness in our community. Our goal, shared by all, was to collectively achieve one million acts of light.
A couple weeks after attending the Fest, I had the opportunity to live out its message to “Be the Light.” My company allows us to use one day each year as a Volunteer Day, and I chose to spend that day with the Ursuline Sisters. I also scheduled some time to stay with the sisters at the motherhouse. The weekend offered an opportunity for personal reflection, followed by service. In the words of the Fest, it was a chance to rekindle the light within me and, in turn, share it with others.
I arrived at the motherhouse on a quiet Saturday afternoon. Sister Dorothy greeted me and showed me to the guest room. It had been about six months since my last visit to the motherhouse, and it had been over two years since I had done my last extended internship with the sisters. As my life’s journey unfolds and as I continue to grow and change, something continues to draw me back to the community. This wasn’t something I verbalized to Sister Dorothy that afternoon, but as our conversation went on, she responded to my unspoken thoughts.
Sister Dorothy told me about a book she was reading called Something More: Excavating Your Authentic Self. The premise of the book is that we seek out the people who mean the most to us because they are reflections of our own soul, our most authentic self. Her words resonated with my return to the motherhouse and the relationships I have developed with the sisters over the years. By spending time in their presence and immersing myself in their stories, I receive new clarity into my own journey.
During my weekend with the sisters, I enjoyed talking with them and doing puzzles together, and we even shared a beautiful outdoor picnic. I also had the opportunity to join the sisters for mass on Sunday morning. On the eve of my day of service, I listened carefully to the words of Psalm 34: Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. The priest’s homily described how we are constantly bombarded with advertisements that appeal to our human needs, whereas Psalm 34 appeals to our spiritual needs. As the priest explained, we are called not only to see Christ in the Eucharist itself, but in the people who receive it. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them (John 6:55-56). In the Eucharist, we receive the Bread of Life. We become the light.
Those words were my stepping stones as I left for the Antonine Village the next morning. I greeted Sister Marie, who was finishing breakfast with a couple residents of the assisted living facility. I would be shadowing her for the first half of my day, which began with praying the rosary. Sister Marie and I waited in chapel as the residents filed in. They shared the concerns on their minds that day, and I prayed with them for their intentions. Sister Marie and I then went to the memory care unit, where we prayed and sang songs with the residents. A 99-year-old Italian woman smiled as we played “C'e La Luna Mezz'o Mare” and “Tarantella Neapoletana.”
After lunch, I met up with Sister Martha at Saint Columba parish. Our time together began with a tour of the cathedral. Sister Martha led me along the bright white walkway to the front of the building, where Bishop Murray’s coat of arms was engraved in the stone, along with his motto: “Christ My Light.” The words echoed back to the homily given by the bishop of my own diocese of Cleveland on the evening of the Fest, who had told us to “Be the Light.” Those words had lit the path along my journey to Youngstown, where the flame now continued to glow. I carried that light back to the rectory, where I helped Sister Martha prepare bags for their food pantry. She encouraged me to pray as I packed the bags of food, that those who receive it may be nourished.
To end the day, I joined Sister Martha at the Youngstown State University volunteer fair. We set up a booth for the Saint Columba food pantry, where I would help recruit student volunteers to do the work that I had been doing that day. We spoke to many students who seemed excited about the work Sister Martha was doing, including one boy who said his experience as a grocery store cashier would come in handy.
By the time I arrived back home, I felt tired from a busy day but also re-energized from a weekend of reflection and service. The night sky shone with one million acts of light. My day of service was a single constellation in an infinite expanse of stars.
Those words were my stepping stones as I left for the Antonine Village the next morning. I greeted Sister Marie, who was finishing breakfast with a couple residents of the assisted living facility. I would be shadowing her for the first half of my day, which began with praying the rosary. Sister Marie and I waited in chapel as the residents filed in. They shared the concerns on their minds that day, and I prayed with them for their intentions. Sister Marie and I then went to the memory care unit, where we prayed and sang songs with the residents. A 99-year-old Italian woman smiled as we played “C'e La Luna Mezz'o Mare” and “Tarantella Neapoletana.”
After lunch, I met up with Sister Martha at Saint Columba parish. Our time together began with a tour of the cathedral. Sister Martha led me along the bright white walkway to the front of the building, where Bishop Murray’s coat of arms was engraved in the stone, along with his motto: “Christ My Light.” The words echoed back to the homily given by the bishop of my own diocese of Cleveland on the evening of the Fest, who had told us to “Be the Light.” Those words had lit the path along my journey to Youngstown, where the flame now continued to glow. I carried that light back to the rectory, where I helped Sister Martha prepare bags for their food pantry. She encouraged me to pray as I packed the bags of food, that those who receive it may be nourished.
To end the day, I joined Sister Martha at the Youngstown State University volunteer fair. We set up a booth for the Saint Columba food pantry, where I would help recruit student volunteers to do the work that I had been doing that day. We spoke to many students who seemed excited about the work Sister Martha was doing, including one boy who said his experience as a grocery store cashier would come in handy.
By the time I arrived back home, I felt tired from a busy day but also re-energized from a weekend of reflection and service. The night sky shone with one million acts of light. My day of service was a single constellation in an infinite expanse of stars.