It was a night that will stay with us for a long time. An ordinary spring evening in Monterusciello near Naples, darkness, silence, calm on the streets. But beneath that outer stillness, a quiet hope was already stirring, a sense of tense anticipation. Ahead lay the midnight Mass at Chiesa Sant'Artema, the only church in the world dedicated to Saint Artemas of Pozzuoli . This modern parish church is located at Via Amedeo Modigliani 2C in Monterusciello, which belongs to Pozzuoli.
Midnight Mass has a long tradition in Italy
Around ten o'clock in the evening, people began to gather. In Italy, this tradition, midnight Mass, especially at major feasts such as Easter , is deeply cherished. For many families it is a genuine ritual: going to church in the night, when everything is asleep. There is something sacred about this nocturnal hour, something mysterious. The church received us in complete darkness. No lights, no candles, only shadows, only feeling. It was symbolic. Darkness before the birth of light. We sat or stood in silence, barely breathing.
Altar servers carried a large candle into the space
The priest began with a quiet, profound prayer. Every word carried more weight than usual. Then the altar servers entered, carrying a large candle into the space. A beautiful, richly adorned candle, held with reverence, as though something sacred rested in their hands. It was said that the flame had come from Jerusalem. Even those who did not fully grasp the significance felt it immediately: this was something extraordinary. The large candle was placed at the center of the church, becoming its focal point, the source of light. From it, the flame was passed on, from hand to hand, row by row. Each of us held a small candle. And when it was lit, it felt like a small miracle. Not because of the fire itself, but because of the way it happened. With care. With prayer. With hope.
The entire church bathed in warm candlelight
When nearly the whole church was bathed in warm candlelight, a young man suddenly began to sing a Bible verse . Not to read it, but to sing it with his whole soul. His voice filled the space. Not loud, but alive, warm, like the fire itself. That singing, those words, went straight to the heart. It was as though even the air inside the church was listening. There was a scent of wax, a hint of smoke, and of people who had come with open hearts. The atmosphere was almost otherworldly, and yet profoundly human. Eyes moved from the candles to the faces around them, to the great candle at the center, and it felt as though everyone present was part of a single, living light.
A night in which light was born
Then the familiar words from the Old Testament were spoken:
"And God said: Let there be light. And there was light."
Hearing those words after everything experienced that night, while holding the light in one's own hands, brings understanding. These are not ancient words. They are a testimony. That even in the deepest darkness, a beginning is possible. There is faith. There is hope. We were there. We witnessed it. And we felt it. It was a night in which light was born. And it has remained, in each of us.