The Family Album

I remember as a child my father sitting in his rocking chair with my three siblings and I sitting on the floor in front of him listening to stories of our family past and present. We heard stories of those who had passed away before our knowing them, brought alive in their fullness, while our eyes were securely on this man in the rocking chair. We heard our history. We heard of the faith once held by our ancestors, and now, carried to us by tradition.

These thoughts were brought to the fore last night at the Easter Vigil. We heard our story, our faith filled story of the Church. We heard of our beginning and how God revealed himself. I felt connected to Adam and Eve, Abraham and Moses. These stories written in the most ancient of times are stories that legends are made of, but our history is not simply mere legend nor myth, but real. We heard from the very beginning what His plan was for us in the present.

Attending the Vigil, one cannot detach the significance of the past without losing the present, for it was in our past, our history of faith that we heard our story and His, intricately woven together. If one thread of this story is pulled away, then all becomes frayed. This thread is the cross and the resurrection.

In the Litany, we asked those who have now gone, to pray for us. Names of people from the ancient Church and thousands of years prior that seem so unreal to me, were called upon for their aid in our time. These same people to whom God entrusted His message now await us in heaven, knowing full well what we are experiencing in our lives for they been where we are. Abraham, Moses, David and yes, even our family that have passed are in prayer for us, and for God's will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Yes, I sat before the Father last night and worshiped Him, my eyes securely on Him as He told me about the family members of the most ancient of true faith, my heritage, my past and His promises to all of us. He opened the family album and read the Word to us, His children.

What came to mind when I was a child, sitting on the floor while my father sat in his rocking chair, came to me again last night; I belonged and was not alone.

Happy Easter