Whether you realize it or not, this evening we are present at creation.

First, there was the creation of the world – signified by the fire that burned at the entry to our church, fire that was then blessed and spread into hundreds of pinpoints of light throughout this church.

We heard the unforgettable story of how God created the heaven and the earth, day by day by day, and then created man.

We then heard how God called to Abraham, and tested him – and God created something again, a new nation. “I will bless you abundantly,” He said, “and make your descendants as countless as the stars of the sky.”

Looking out tonight at the flickering candles in this church, I saw a tiny slice of that promise fulfilled.

And in the gospel, we just heard again a stunning act of creation, and it began – just as the one in Genesis – on the first day of the week. The day, we were told, was just dawning, when the women came to the tomb and encountered first an angel, and then the resurrected Christ. The world was remade before their eyes.

This evening, it is happening again for us.

And it is happening in a very particular way for the men and women who are about to receive their sacraments – the catechumens and candidates who are joining our faith – adding more flickering candles, more stars, more light to the never-ending story of Christianity.

Among our Jewish neighbors, there’s a popular bit of folk wisdom that says that after God created the earth in six days, and rested on the seventh, there is an eighth day. And we are living it here and now in the present moment. This is the eighth day. Another way of looking at that is: creation didn’t end in Eden. It continues, in each of us.

It certainly continues in the hearts and minds of every one around the world who is joining the Church this evening – tens of thousands of them.

They are people like Mark Ma, a sophomore at the University of Virginia who was born in Beijing, to agnostic parents. An atheist throughout his life, he started talking to Christians in college and, to his amazement, began to pray. His prayer led him to the Catholic Church. He’s being baptized tonight in Virginia.

They are people like a 41-year-old man from Tucson, Steven Parceluzzi, who never had much faith until he found himself in the hospital and struck up a conversation with the hospital chaplain. He is joining the church tonight in Tucson, along with his wife, his mother and his niece.

They are people like my friend Branda Weidner, a retired Army officer who never had any religion at all, but felt something pulling her to the Catholic Church. She’s being baptized tonight, at a parish in Orlando, Florida. I’m proud to say I’m sponsoring her, by proxy.

I know this will not be a short night – and I’m going to do my best not to make it longer. But what is unfolding here in this Church, and in others around the globe, is epic. It demands time, and attention. It really is part of the Greatest Story Ever Told.

It is the story of our redemption – through Christ’s death and resurrection. It is the continuing story of the Church’s being born, and reborn, again and again, through all those who enter into it. It is the story of how one brightly burning flame – this pillar of fire that represents Christ – has spread around the world, flame by flame, candle by candle, heart by heart.

And the fire only grows stronger, and brighter.

The first reading we heard, from Genesis, told us that “God looked at everything he had made, and he found it very good.”

I would ask you to think of that tonight, as our candidates and catechumens become full members of our faith. Each of them is part of His creation, part of what He has made.

It hasn’t always been an easy journey.

My mother was a New Jersey Methodist who converted when she married my father. And back in her day, in the 1940s, you attended classes with a priest in the rectory for a couple of months, you were baptized, and that was that. Now it is much longer, much more labor-intensive – and, I think, a more meaningful and momentous occasion. I know my mother didn’t have a turn-out like this for her baptism and first communion.

But this is how it should be. It is momentous. Creation is continuing. What began in darkness has burst into light here and now. The eighth day is ablaze with promise. It is the promise of LIFE – new lives in our church, and new life, by the grace and glory of Christ’s resurrection.

Spring began just two days ago, but here, in this sacred space, it is already in full flower.

And we can only gaze at it in wonder and joy – sharing in some small way the wonder and joy of our heavenly Father, who “looked at everything he had made…and found it very good.”