Saintly Sips
with Deacon Ken

In recent years, more and more people have turned to solar power for their homes. Part of the motivation is practical; it is cleaner, more efficient, and often more cost-effective in the long run. Bu the is another reason that feels especially relevant in our unpredictable world. When storms roll in and the main power grid goes down, homes with solar panes and batter storage can still have light. Even when everything around them is dark, they remain powered because they are drawing energy from a source beyond the fragile grid.

Many people even carry small solar chargers for their phones or emergency equipment. These devices don’t create energy on their own; they simply receive it. They must be placed in the sunlight, exposed, open, and oriented toward the source. If they are tucked away in a drawer or covered up, they cannot recharge, no matter how advanced the technology. Light is only available when there is a living connection to the source of the light.

Jesus tells us plainly in the Gospel, “You are the light of the world.” That is both a beautiful calling and a demanding one. We are meant to shine—at work, in our families, in our parishes, and in a world that often feels darkened by fear, division, and despair. But just like solar-powered homes, we quickly discover a hard truth: our light does not from ourselves. We are not the source. We are receivers.

There are moments when our internal power grid goes down. Exhaustion sets in. Discouragement creeps in. Sin, suffering, or disappointment dims our light. In those moments, trying harder rarely works. A solar panel cannot will itself into producing energy. It must return to the sun. So too, when our spiritual batteries are drained, the answer is not self-reliance but re-connection.

It is through the Son; Jesus Christ; that we are recharged. He is the true Light who never fades, never burns out, and never fails. When we place ourselves in His presence through prayer, the Sacraments, Sacred Scripture, and silence, we allow His light to fill us again. Confession clears away the grime that blocks the light. The Eucharist becomes the steady current that sustains us. Time with Christ reorients our hearts back toward the source.

Only then can we shine again…not with a harsh or manufactured brightness, but with a quiet, steady glow that points beyond ourselves. In a dark world longing for hope, our task is not to generate light, but to stay connected to it. When we remain turned toward the Son, His light shines through us, and the darkness does not overcome it.

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God Bless you all;

Deacon Ken