I sat down last night to write a blog post and absolutely nothing would come to mind that didn’t just sound like a vague update. The reason is not because there hasn’t been anything happening. A great deal has been happening. I just haven’t been able to process it enough to put it into words. 

The days I had in Mugnano del Cardinale were absolutely incredible. Spending several hours a day in front of the relics of my patroness was like a dream. That dream led me to my next stop on the pilgrimage portion of my sabbatical: Ireland. 

Arriving at the airport, I found my way to my rental car and mentally braced for what was to come: driving on the opposite side of the road, driving on the opposite side of the car, and driving a manual transmission for the first time in a few years...left handed. No pressure. I made it safely to my goal: Knock Shrine. I hadn’t heard a great deal about Knock until the last year or so. It’s a rather fascinating apparition. Most places, such as Fatima or Lourdes, have Our Lady appearing alone and giving some sort of message. At Knock, in 1879, there appeared outside the church an altar upon which stood a Cross and a young Lamb. Next to the altar stood the Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, and St. John the Apostle. They appeared there for two hours in silence. Not one word was said. While many focus immediately upon Our Lady, the central focus of the apparition it seems is in fact the Lamb. As one of the witnesses that night noted - the figures looked as if made by light, but the Lamb was the brightest. Many interpretations and reflections have been offered on this silent apparition full of signs and symbols, but the theme that has spoken to me most powerfully is that of a depending of love for the Mass and the Eucharist. Dom Mark Kirby, O.S.B. has written beautifully about this on his blog Vultus Christi. On account of my love for the Mass and a desire to grow in love for the Eucharistic Lord, I went to Knock. There were no spiritual fireworks. There was simply peace. But not a sort of generic peace or a peace only due to a lack of disturbances. It was a peace that was living, active. A peace with a name and a face. Jesus - my Lord, my God, my all. 

That living peace is where I still find myself, but in a different location. I am currently at Silverstream Priory in Stamullen, Ireland - about half an hour north of Dublin. The day is consumed with liturgical prayer offered in a most beautiful and edifying manner. Mass today was an hour long... and that was just a regular Saturday Mass without a homily. For some people that would be torture. But for this little priest - a slice of heaven! That is why I decided to come here at the very end of this long pilgrimage. Here I knew I would be able to be consumed not with worries about parking or money or accommodations or schedules. Here, there is simply worship of the One True God. 

Long ago Psalm 116 was composed as a prayer of thanksgiving to God. In it the Psalmist cries out, “How can I repay the Lord for His goodness to me? The cup of salvation I will raise. I will call on the Lord’s Name.” I can think of no better way to conclude this pilgrimage than by saying and doing the same.

Blessed be God!