Easter Week I

Easter in Paris. With my family. Marvelous. Wonderful. Frigid. Yes, the coldest winter I ever spent was spring in Paris--with apologies to Mark Twain. But really I should not complain. It is a blessing to be here, and to spend time with my beautiful daughter, who is studying abroad for a semester.

There is much to love about Paris. No surprise there. A highlight was Easter Mass at the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Yes, that Notre Dame. Prior to Mass, there was a magnificent half-hour of Gregorian chant for Lauds. The music was outstanding and memorable. For Mass, the Cardinal presided. It is so moving to attend Mass in a foreign country--even when one does not understand the language. It brings to my mind that Catholics all over the world were hearing the same readings, saying the same prayers, and celebrating the same astounding, impossible event--the Resurrection of the God-made-man. Somehow, it felt more devotional and more reverent than the Good Friday veneration of the crown of thorns.

At the end of Mass, the new bells of Notre Dame were rung. The bells were just recently replaced, as part of the 850th anniversary of Notre Dame. Apparently, they had been out of tune for years, if not centuries. These new bells made an unforgettable sound that resonated within the church and outside for blocks around. 

We followed with a delicious luncheon at Chez Julien just across the Seine to cap off a very moving and memorable morning.

Good Friday

I am in Paris on vacation with my family, and so my postings may be less frequent. Yesterday was Good Friday, and we visited Notre Dame for a most extraordinary ceremony. For nearly 800 years, Notre Dame has been the home of what many believe is the actual crown of thorns "worn" by Jesus during His Passion. The crown has been encased in gold for eighty percent of its circumference, with the remaining twenty percent or so encased in a clear tube in which it may be seen clearly.

On Good Friday, Catholics assemble in Notre Dame to venerate this relic. We joined this awesome procession. Notre Dame was flooded with tourists taking pictures of those venerating the Crown, and the veneration by each visitor was actually broadcast on big screen TVs inside and outside Notre Dame. For me, this reduced the solemnity of the moment and made it feel more like a trip to a sporting event or some other public spectacle. It was, for me at least, very difficult to be truly focused on the moment, and it felt in some ways like a missed opportunity. 

Also on Good Friday, we visited a small church tucked away on a downtown Paris side street, in which Mary appeared to St. Catherine Laboure. The result of the multiple visits by Our Lady was the creation of the Miraculous Medal. The saint's uncorrupted body is displayed in the small chapel there, and it too was brimming with visitors. This group acted much more like reverent believers than the visitors to Notre Dame, and the atmosphere was, fortunately, much different and far more inspiring.

O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.