On winter evenings in rural Warren County, New Jersey, darkness settles quickly over the field and woods surrounding the Blue Army Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima. Each December, however, that darkness is pierced by thousands of lights as the shrine hosts its annual Christmas Festival of Lights, running this year through Jan. 11, from dusk until 9 p.m. 

What began in 2022 as a modest effort to mark Christmas more intentionally has become a regional tradition, drawing families, pilgrims and visitors from across New Jersey and neighboring states. For the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal who serve as chaplains at the shrine, the festival is not primarily about visual spectacle. Its purpose is catechetical, telling the story of why Christ came. 

“When we were first missioned here almost four years ago, this was all new to us,” said C.F.R. Father Luke Mary Fletcher, co-chaplain at the Blue Army. “We had never been chaplains at a shrine before. We really had to get on our knees and ask the Holy Spirit what that meant.” 

While the Blue Army typically hosts events to mark the anniversaries of the Fatima apparitions from May 13 to Oct. 13, Christmas had not previously been marked by a major tradition at the shrine. “That just didn’t feel right,” Father Luke told the Register. “We love Christmas.” 

Born of Prayer 

The friars also noticed how dark the property became at night. Set on 150 acres in the countryside, the shrine offered both a challenge and an opportunity. After prayer and discernment, the idea emerged to create a Christmas light festival that would be uniquely Catholic, deeply scriptural, and rooted in the shrine’s mission. 

The first year was a labor of love filled with trial and error. Volunteers arrived daily to plug in countless extension cords by hand, then returned each night to unplug them. On Christmas Day, however, no volunteers were available since families were home celebrating together. Only Father Luke and his co-chaplain of the shrine, Brother Pius Marie Gagne remained.  

As they worked separately on opposite sides of the property that afternoon, something unexpected occurred. Father Luke recalled being surrounded by a powerful fragrance of incense near the entrance gate, intense and unmistakable, with no visible source.  

“There was nobody there. We’re out in the woods,” he said. “I’d move away and it would be gone. I’d come back and it was strong again. There was also a sense of a presence; it’s hard to put into words.” 

When the two friars met later, his companion was visibly shaken. Near the Nativity scene, the area transformed into Bethlehem, he too had encountered the same fragrance. That evening, visitors independently asked about the incense they had smelled while driving through the lights. The phenomenon occurred only on Christmas Day.  

Father Luke spoke about the experience with caution. “I’m very careful about claiming miracles,” he said. “I don’t want to be sensational.” Still, he acknowledged that the experience felt like a quiet confirmation, especially meaningful given that frankincense was one of the Magi’s gifts to the Christ Child.  

An ‘Old Testament Rosary’ 

Since then, the festival has grown both in scale and intention, often being cited as a “family tradition” each year. Streams of visitors now follow what Father Luke called an “Old Testament Rosary,” driving slowly through illuminated scenes that trace salvation history, from creation and the Fall to the prophets and the long preparation for the Messiah. Isaiah’s prophecies glow from a floating scroll. King David is symbolized by a crown and harp. Mary’s fiat unfolds beneath the angel Gabriel as visitors continue toward Bethlehem.  

A tunnel of light filled with silver angels leads to the Nativity scene itself, set against projections of angels in flight. As visitors exit, they encounter a striking image from the Book of Revelation. The New Jerusalem is represented by a cross shaped like a living tree, with water flowing like the river of life.  

Much of the display is handmade by volunteers. “This isn’t stuff you buy at a store,” Father Luke explained. “People can tell.” 

A Place Marked by Reverence 

Another unexplained incident occurred on the festival’s opening night last year, which coincided with the anniversary of the death of Father Andrew Apostoli. Father Andrew, the longtime host of EWTN’s Sunday Night Prime and co-founder of the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal, was widely regarded as a spiritual father of the Blue Army Shrine and played a pivotal role in bringing the friars to the shrine.   

During a routine walk through, the friars discovered that the hidden sound system at the Nativity, previously set to play a single Christmas hymn, was instead broadcasting a recorded reflection by Father Andrew on St. Francis of Assisi and his love for Christmas.  

The source was never identified, and the recording did not appear on the device afterward when Father Luke checked.  

Again, he recounted the event with some restraint. “We don’t presume, and we don’t ask for signs,” he said. “This is a very holy place. People come here humble and faithful.” 

As the lights have returned this year, the friars are focused less on what might happen and more on what already does. Christ is proclaimed, Scripture is illuminated, and hearts are lifted toward Bethlehem.  

Sometimes, Father Luke noted, light itself is enough.