When the World Catches Fire
Amid ash and loss, the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage brings hope to the streets once consumed by flames

It Felt Like the Apocalypse.
A glance at the western sky revealed a cloudless orange dome, the setting sun held hostage by a blood-red halo. Smoke from distant fires muted its rays and cast an eerie glow across the Jersey Shore's seaside horizon.
By day, what seemed like foggy, humid haze was actually an unbreathable atmosphere laden with smoke, forcing many residents to mask every breath. With no rain in sight, over 17,000 acres of South Jersey's Pine Barrens had been laid waste. It was May 15th, 2007—a day I'll never forget.
Still, it could have been far worse.
It could have been like Eaton.

The Day the Mountains Burned
The Eaton Fire, ignited on January 7, 2025, consumed more than 14,000 acres and obliterated roughly 9,400 structures—an infernal twin to the Palisades Fire, which ravaged some 20,000 acres. Fueled by howling Santa Ana winds, the blaze thundered through parched foothills.
And once it passed, all that remained were the memories of what once was on an alien landscape draped in the agony of loss.
A Community on Fire—Yet Still Standing
Yet amid destruction, heroism arises.
In Altadena, Deacon José Luis DÃaz raced back from evacuation to Sacred Heart Church, where embers had ignited the wooden roof. Armed only with a garden hose, a ladder, and an iron pipe, he and three parishioners managed to quench the flames and safeguard the sanctuary. "We almost didn't have water pressure in the hose…but we did whatever we could, and it worked," he recalled in an interview with Catholic News Agency.

The Eucharist Arrives amidst the Ashes
On the Friday before the Feast of Corpus Christi, Archbishop José Gomez celebrated Mass at Sacred Heart as part of the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage's Drexel Route. Following the Mass, hundreds joined a Eucharistic procession that wound through streets once threatened by flames—a testimony that Christ walks through every fire we endure.
Archbishop Gomez's words at Sacred Heart resonated across burnt neighborhoods: "God sometimes allows the people he loves to suffer, but never hidden, and never alone."
The following morning, at the Church of Corpus Christi in Pacific Palisades—where all but the tabernacle was reduced to ashes, Bishop Andrew Cozzens reminded worshipers during Morning Prayer that the Eucharistic Revival, begun three years ago, now shines most brightly amid tragedy: "Even when things look dead. Even when destruction seems total. God is with us. And the power of His Paschal Mystery cannot be stopped. As we surrender our lives to it, it transforms us, and through us, it continues to transform the world."
Tragedy Unites Us
It's striking how often catastrophe brings out the best in people. In the tragic aftermath of events like 9/11, Hurricane Sandy, or these wildfires, when profound human suffering strikes, walls fall and compassion rises.
After 9/11, volunteers poured into Ground Zero. Catholic Charities mobilized immediately, offering grief counseling, emergency food, and financial assistance to families of victims. Priests walked the rubble with firefighters, bringing grace and consolation. Churches like St. Peter's on Barclay Street remained open day and night, places of refuge for a city in shock.
In Hurricane Sandy's aftermath, Catholic parishes across the tri-state area became hubs for relief efforts. Volunteers distributed meals and supplies, hosted displaced families, and coordinated cleanup crews. The Knights of Columbus and St. Vincent de Paul societies were among the first on the ground, delivering aid to the devastated coastal towns.
In these cases, even amid grief and division, communities united, reminded that in our darkest hours, the Church is not just a place, but a people.
The spirit of unity stretched far beyond California. In late January, a group from St. Michael the Archangel Parish in Leawood, Kansas, made the 1,600-mile journey to bring relief to families displaced by the fires in Altadena. Led by Deacon Greg Trum, the truck was filled with donated school and household supplies. Along the way, another parish joined the effort, adding to the cargo. The delivery was received by Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Parish in Pasadena, where supplies were distributed to displaced students and families from St. Elizabeth Catholic School.

Christ with Us, Always
This piece began on the shores of the Atlantic, where the sky was dark with smoke. It ends on the shores of the Pacific, not in smoke and ruin, but in light. Candles flickering, incense rising, and Christ held aloft in a golden monstrance, borne through streets once scorched by flame.
It's a procession of hope through suffering. A testimony that God is not distant. That He walks with us, not only in our celebrations and sanctuaries, but through the rubble, through the fear, through the dark.
Christ walks with us through every part of our lives—the good, the bad, and the tragic. He's present when the fire breaks out, and when the first hands reach to help. He's there in the silence after loss, and in the steady rebuilding of what was broken.
Like that lone tabernacle at Corpus Christi in Pacific Palisades—its steel frame standing resilient amid the ruins—it remains a sign: He is with us. Even here. Even now.
In Adoration, we come with wandering hearts, distracted thoughts, weary spirits. We gaze at Him through our weakness. We drift.
But He never looks away.
His gaze rests upon us, unblinking, unshaken, unceasing. Through flame and ash, through silence and sorrow, through every ordinary moment that follows.
Because He is our Father. Our Creator. Our First Love.
And even when we forget Him in our pain or preoccupation, He remains with us.
This is the heart of the Eucharistic Revival, not just a movement, but a reminder: He is here.
And He is enough.




Author’s Note:
I want to extend my deepest thanks to Montse Alvarado and Shannon Mullen at EWTN and the National Catholic Register. Their belief in this mission and their unwavering support made it possible for me to walk this journey, to witness these moments, and to share them with you. I truly couldn’t have done it without them.
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You have my heartfelt thanks for your generosity and support and please keep me in your prayers, and know of mine for each of you. God Bless, Jeff
Beautiful words of truth, thank you