A Homecoming

It is hard to believe that just a few days ago we all gathered beneath the golden dome, preparing to start this grand adventure. In such a short time, it feels as if we have already experienced so much -- adventures of forgotten passports, broken zippers, lost credit cards, found credit cards, Yuker battles and delayed flights. There have been moments of laughter as we struggle through language differences and told stories over crepes filled with chocolate, pears and salted butter caramel sauce. In these past few days, however, I find that the most palpable and real emotion for me is gratitude. Yesterday, after arriving in Le Mans, we were able to travel to visit the Shrine of Basil Moreau.  In talks before this trip, we have learned that the Congregacion de Sainte Croix is a Congregation that formed around the community of Holy Cross-- that it was formed first to serve this local community. Walking up to the Shrine, the reality of this mission is clear. The Shrine is a simple place, it is located between buildings, situated in a neighborhood. Standing outside, Fr. John explains that it is not only the resting place for Fr. Moreau but that it is also a functioning parish, A parish that serves this local community still today. As Fr. John gives us the history of the church itself and how it was part of the vision of Fr. Moreau, he mentions that this church is meant to be a home to all members of Holy Cross--Priests, Brothers and Sisters alike. He explains that Fr. Moreau's vision was that this church would be a central place where all of those out on the missions and living their different ministries could come to find rest and welcome. I know that this vision was meant for the consecrated Holy Cross, for those who have vowed their life to this Order, but as I stepped into this Church alongside so many people who have given their life and talents to the service of Notre Dame and the work of Holy Cross, I feel a part of this story must  apply to us as well. 

When we walked through the entrance, our eyes were immediately drawn up towards the beautiful windows that filled the space. As you look forward you see the simple, yet powerful altar surrounded by windows of the seven sufferings of Mary--- it is a space that invites us to enter deeper into the suffering of Christ on the cross and into the heart of the one who loved Him most. While that invitation is powerful enough, I am taken aback by the windows that fill the cross-section. These windows were installed in the 1940's and show the work of Holy Cross. The four panels show Sisters and Brothers working the missions, the Oratory to St. Joseph in Canada and finally a panel of a Golden dome with students in graduation caps and a beautiful image of Our Lady shining light down upon them all. Images of the past week on campus and the recent graduates flood through my own mind. Even though we had learned of this window and were prepared to see it, I am still overcome that somewhere in a little street in France, there was a story that was once started hundreds of years ago, that includes these students and our daily work and ministry. As I reflect on my own call and vocation to living this mission there is a comfort in knowing that this story is bigger, this work is bigger and that there are so many who have lived it before me. There is also a challenge as I think of all of those whose steps have gone before, however. As we continue to learn more about Fr. Moreau, we learn that his life was filled with great joy and also with great pain and sacrifice. He is a man who dedicated his life and work to a vision and a mission that did not give him tangible results but instead challenged him to rely on providence and hope. Yes there is comfort in knowing we are not alone, but there is no guarantee that this business of forming people into citizens for heaven will reveal immediate results or even show fruits that I can see. I have no answers for those two thoughts, but as I look around me on this trip and think back to all of those at home, I find comfort in not just the largeness of this story, but also the company on the journey.

As I continue to hold these thoughts and prayers in tension, I return to the primary feeling these past few days -- gratitude. Gratitude for this work, but also gratitude for the many men and women who have lived it before us. As we sat at the foot of Moreau's tomb, we named in prayer all members of Holy Cross that we wanted to lift up in prayers of gratitude. The first named was Fr. Ted, followed by rectors, pastors of parishes, professors, friends, formators and brothers. Gratitude. Gratitude for those who have shared this mission. Gratitude for the community that carries it forward today and gratitude for this incredible opportunity to grow deeper with one another and move further into the mystery of this call for each of us.