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!

And so it begins

I am officially a peregrino (pilgrim).

On Wednesday, August 28 I got off the plane in Biarritz, France and caught a taxi to St. Jean-Pied-de-Port. Tired, not properly nourished, and poorly hydrated from the plane ride, I decided to take on the hardest day of the Camino right away. I had booked a room at an albergue (hostel for Camino pilgrims) about 8 kilometers (approx 5 miles) up. 8km didn’t sound like much but when it’s all uphill and includes an elevation change of 700m (approx 2100ft) , it gets a lot more serious. I was dragging halfway to the end, stopping every 100 feet or so to catch my breath. Long about km 6.5, I was pretty sure this endeavored was the stupidest thing I had ever done and that I ought to quit and change plans for my time in Europe. I could barely walk 20 feet without stopping and I knew I had a ways to go. Fortunately, the Lord was with me. I told Him I’d happily wave down a taxi if one were to pass by. Keep in mind this is a little out-of-the-way country road that’s not highly travelled. But within a minute a car engine roared and a taxi appeared. I was able to hop in and get to my place for the night with a grateful heart and sore legs. To that point I had felt anything other than happy on my birthday. But the Lord picked me up a bit again when I had set up for Mass on a little table on the property. I was about to make the sign of the Cross when a voice from behind said, “Excuse me, Father. Are you saying Mass? Can I join you?” I welcomed him over and Mass was offered with myself and my friend Chris from England. He was so thrilled. He asked to take a picture after Mass and said, “I have to sent this to my wife. I got to go to Mass! A miracle on the first day!” It was really touching. At dinner I met some other folks making the Camino from LA and TX and had a great conversaotion. My birthday, though different than normal, was still a blessed one.

That night I called a taxi company inquiring about bringing me to the other side of the mountain that lie ahead of me on day 2. Several pilgrims tried to dissuade me, but I was set on that plan after what I lhad experienced on day 1. The next morning I got up and, not having heard from the taxi company, decided to try to make the walk. I got about 25 yards up the hill when I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it. I turned around, even as everyone was just starting out, and walked back to the house. As I was walking back my phone buzzed and it was the taxi driver asking when I wanted to leave. 15 minutes later I was riding to Roncesvalles, the first town in spain along the Camino. The gift of the taxi on both days, in the exact moments needed, showed me what the Lord desired of me. I had been prideful and stubborn before, feeling like I had to do the whole thing, like I had to prove myself to someone, like my worth was dependent upon what I could do. The Lord called me to humility and to accept this Camino pilgrimage as I am able to do it, not necessarily how I want to do it or believe it should be done.

That second day was okay. I could handle hills better than mountains, but doing 21km (14 miles) on rocky hills still works on you. That was yesterday and today and seemingly nearly every day ahead of me. But the Lord will provide. Despite the pain of the walking, the scenery has been utterly breathtaking at times. The mountains and hillside, lots of animals, scenic rivers and bridges, historic churches, and people from around the world provide more than enough fuel for praising god in His goodness. I enjoyed a lively conversation with a flock of geese this morning, but the horses I encountered were less inclined to talk to me. The herd of sheep was neat to see too as they grazed alongside the river banks. There are also, of course, the occasional cats around town.

A few other things I’ve learned so far: never pass up a drinking water font, never pass up a great rest spot, and never pass up a bathroom.

For now I will wrap this up because I’m getting tired and need to get some sleep for tomorrow. Thank you all for your prayers and be assured of my prayers for each of you as well.

St James the Apostle, pray for us!

Fruits of the Labor

Memento Mori. It’s a Latin phrase that means ‘remember death’ and it’s something countless saints of God have practiced and encouraged over the centuries. It is the invitation for each of us to remember that we are ‘strangers and sojourners’ in this world and that our destiny is Eternal Life. But to enter into the glory we must be judged. I often consider what that moment will be like. Like the servants entrusted with talents that are called to show what they’ve made of them, so too will I be summoned to stand before the Just Judge and give a reckoning for my labors. One consolation is the rare of occasion when I see the fruits of my labors in some way. One such fruit is the reason I was in Brooklyn, NY this weekend. One of my spiritual daughters, Sister Marie Trône du Roi Bethea, SSVM, made her perpetual profession of vows in her religious community, The Servants of the Lord and the Virgin of Matara. A consecrated Bride of Christ, she received her ring and has entrusted herself to her beloved spouse, Christ our God. While the vast majority of the work is hers and the spiritual directors during her time in religious life, I am blessed to have been able to walk with her from the start and to accompany her with my prayers. If nothing else, I will be able to stand before the Lord and say that I have helped one of His brides. I know there are many other fruits - at least I hope so - but I rejoice especially in this one today.

Shown below are Sr. Trône & me after the Mass, Sister Receiving Holy Communion, and Fr. Taylor Reynolds (from Alexandria) and myself with some of the SSVM Sisters from LA.

On Bugs and the Love of God

Earlier this week I was down at the main house of the Madonna House Apostolate (as opposed to the priest retreat house) waiting for a brother priest so we could ride up to the retreat house. I noticed some beautiful flowers and went over to have a closer look. As I drew close I noticed a number of bugs chomping away on a few of the plants. I noticed that the leaves had been consumed from the entire top of the plants as the bugs were slowly eating their way down from the top. I watched for several minutes and could see them eating but the bites were so small they were almost indiscernible, and yet the leaves were entirely gone on the top of the plant. It made me think of just how many little things in my daily life nibble away at my soul - creature comforts, emphasis on productivity, rushed prayers, bad habits and sins. How many little ‘bites’ they have taken out of my soul that are slowly, indiscernibly quenching the fiery love of God in my heart!

Catherine Doherty, who founded the Madonna House Apostolate, was a rather prolific writer in her day. I recently read one of her works entitled Strannik, which means ‘pilgrim’ in a Russian. In it she speaks of how often pilgrims are called to pilgrimage and they follow the call but they don’t know why they are there. While the Lord certainly has much in store for me of which I am yet unaware, I do know that there is one thing He wants of me during this pilgrimage upon which I find myself: to be set ablaze. It is for that reason that I chose to come here first instead of immediately starting the Camino in Spain. Here I have had some time to ‘come aside and rest a while’ as the Apostles of the Lord were called to do. This rest has taken various forms - extra prayer time, a good bit of reading, meals with the community and fellow guests, chopping wood, stacking wood, prepping vegetables for meals, and moments spent simply enjoying the beauty of the Madawaska Valley. And yet it is all rest for the soul. It is a time to try to rekindle the fire.

In the Gospel for today (20th Sunday of Ordinary Time) the Lord speaks about how He came to set the world on fire and how He wished it were already ablaze. His Sacred Heart burns with love for us and He longs to have that love set our hearts on fire for love of Him as well. This is my hope - to burn with love for God. This Tuesday I will have the grace of going to Poustinia, the Russian word for desert. There are little cabins set aside here for more intense times of prayer. They are likened to a desert because it is the person alone with God. The individual arrives at the door of the little cabin with a jug of water, loaf of bread, and a Bible (and for me a Breviary) with the sole intention of prayer, fasting, and reading the Word of God. As I go to spend that time with the Lord know that each of you reading this will be carried there in my heart. Just inside the door of this retreat house is a little sign from Catherine’s poem ‘What is a priest?’. It says ‘The heart of a priest is open like Christ’s for the whole world to walk through.’ And so, for all of you who have walked into my life - my heart - I will be praying for you and your intentions and ask your prayers for me too.

Later this week I will be driving to Brooklyn, NY for the Solemn Profession of Vows of one of my spiritual daughters, Sr. Marie Trône du Roi. This is essentially her wedding day, when she becomes a true bride of Christ. It is sure to be a most beautiful occasion. From there I will head to Cincinnati to visit with my family for a day or so before heading off to Europe. My Camino commences in 10 days. St. James, pray for me!

Resting with Our Lord

I arrived here in Combermere, Ontario at the Madonna House last Friday (First Friday!) on the feast of St. Peter Julian Eymard, a great lover of the Eucharist. I’m staying at the Vianney House, a retreat house for priests here at Madonna House, along with a rotating group of men from the local diocese and other countries. They are all here for the same reason I am - to come away for a while to rest with Our Lord in this beautiful place dedicated to Our Lady. At all hours of the day the chapel here is occupied by men offering Holy Mass, praying their breviary, reading spiritual reading, or simply sitting in silence with the Lord. It is encouraging to see.

In addition to my time spent in the chapel, it has been a great joy to experience the cool weather and beautiful nature here in the Madawaska Valley. Sitting outside on the little porch of the retreat house, I am able to enjoy a nice cup of hot tea while watching chipmunks and what I think was a groundhog amble around the yard enjoying their meal times. My mind is still caught up in many things with the parish administration and I still have a few things left to do before I can really let myself enter into this sabbatical, but these gifts of community, nature, and the extra time with Our Lord are a salve to my soul.

In addition to these graces, I was able to celebrate the feast of St. Jean Vianney tonight by offering Holy Mass in the Extraordinary Form with a relic of the Curé on the altar. Lord, it is good that we are here.