Blessed be God

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. 

The Sanctuary at Knock marking the place of the apparitions.

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. 

The cross constructed at Knock for the Papal Mass celebrated by Pope St. John Paul II.

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! 

King of the World

Happy Sunday! Y’all - today was incredible! Yesterday I walked 6.6 miles and found myself in the early afternoon facing a steady uphill climb and long steep descent all in the heat of the day. Taking into account the conversation I had earlier in day with an Irish couple about being sure to enjoy the Camino, I decided to stop for the night. I got to rest and wash my clothes with a machine! I had time to go sit outside the church in town to do a Holy Hour and was delighted to be able to get in the church for a few minutes when someone came to fix the flowers on the altar. Most of the churches here are closed during the day, which makes me sad but also shows me how fortunate we are in LA to be able have our churches open most of the day. So, good people, take advantage of that gift and visit Our Lord in the tabernacle at your church or chapel!

That was the preface to the best day I’ve had on the Camino thus far. I woke up before dark and hit the trail about 6:45am. I climbed up the incline in time to see some of the sunrise and came across the other side and was at the bottom of the steep incline by 8:30. I felt like the king of the world! It was amplified by the fact that it was about 60 degrees and windy. There was nobody around for a long way, so I decided to sing a bit. I sang a few of my favorite hymns to the Lord because of the beauty of the day. Then I made up a song in Spanish about getting a croissant, coffee, and coke in the next town. Then somehow I started singing ‘Do You Know the Muffin Man?’ in the style of Static-X (a metal band). Thankfully I was brought back to sanity by the delicious breakfast at the town ahead, where I met a woman from Minnesota and had a great little conversation over our little meal; it’s so nice to have a normal conversation in my own language!

I stopped at a church earlier today and saw the Traditional Latin Mass altar cards and asked if I could celebrate a Mass on that altar but the sacristan was adamant that I could wait 2 hours and concelebrate Mass later or I could try another church. That was a bit disheartening, but I continued on to the next town. I made my way to a church in the town that the Lord seemed to draw me toward and inquired about offering Mass and the sacristan happily obliged. I was able to offer a quiet private Mass on a beautiful side altar of Our Lady, much to my delight. It was a small fulfillment of something I read yesterday from Fr. Emile Neubert’s book ‘Mary and the Priestly Ministry’ about Our Lady’s special love for priests. Indeed, my heavenly Mother loves me dearly.

As I continued on after Mass and a lunch break, I made my way through vineyards and some beautiful fields. A wall of purple & gold wild flowers along the path made me think ‘Geaux Tigers!’ and brought a smile to my face. A few texts from family and friends brought my heart even closer to home and filled me with gratitude for the many blessings back home that I FAR too often take for granted.

As I sit in this random albergue (hostel) in Spain listening to some American classic rock radio station after walking 14 miles, I just met a pleasant lady from Canada living in the States who invited me to join her group for a game of cards. It’s a very strange journey I’m on, but I know it is full of the Lord’s grace and I am grateful to be on it for whatever reasons He has brought me here.

St. James, pray for us!

Ecce Venio

Ecce, Venio.

It’s a Latin phrase meaning ‘Behold, I come.’ A dozen years ago these two words would have had no significant meaning for me. But today they mean far more than the words contained here. That’s because the love of God for me - for all of us - is beyond description. In ancient days the people of Israel would offer sacrifices in the Temple of various animals and grains. But the Psalms beautifully anticipate the most perfect sacrifice: “Holocaust and oblation you sought not. Then said I: Behold, I come.” (Psalm 40) Jesus Christ, the Son of God, took on our flesh and came to offer the sacrifice not of birds or beasts, but of His very self. In this He has made of children of God and heirs of Heaven. But it is not enough to simply open the gates and wait for us. He stays here with us in the Most Holy Eucharist to strengthen us so we can persevere in walking the narrow path to Eternal Life. Christ remains with us in the tabernacles of churches around the world, imprisoned not by chains but by Love. He longs to be with us so that we might be with Him in glory. In His revelations to numerous saints throughout the centuries, He has continually sought out for Himself companions to remain with Him in the Eucharist. Adorers who make a point to spend time with Him, who speak to Him what He first spoke to us: ‘Behold, I come.’ Indeed our offerings may be small in comparison to His, but how He rejoices to see us before Him in the tabernacle or monstrance! This is what I have come to know in the depths of my soul in a place where words fall short. Jesus Christ abides with us. And He delights when we abide in Him. O, how He loves us!