Notre Dame Burning, Holy Week & Being the Remnant

Most of you have likely heard about the devastating fire that burned down a portion of the beloved Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. I was going about my day on Monday, when my brother’s text came in, “Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris is burning down”.

And then I went on my phone and watched as the steeple topped into a blazing fire that encompassed the entire roof of the Cathedral.

All I could do was cry.

Then my brother began to send me texts reminding me of all the crazy adventures we had when we went to France on pilgrimage, May of 1995.

Our first stop after a long journey was making our way to Notre Dame for Mass.

We had very little money for our trip, which made it necessary for us to be “resourceful” about our accommodations. (a.k.a : “beg for a place to stay”.)

We were young and full of a childlike faith — we were just sure somebody would offer to let two complete strangers stay at their house for our few nights in Paris.

After all, we reasoned, we needed accommodations and our money wouldn’t last unless we found some kind sponsors. So, clearly God would provide.

Yes, perhaps in general it is wrong to “put God to the test”, but I’m pretty sure that on that trip God got a kick out of the boundless faith of two young people who expected Him to take care of them like the Good Father they knew He was.

And He did take very good care of us.

After being unable to find any willing hosts at Notre Dame, we eventually ended up at the Church of St. Gervais and begged one of the sisters of the Community of Jerusalem for a place to stay.

Strangely enough, they convinced two nice young French women to host us for a few days!

Oh, the stories from that trip! But they will have to wait because it’s Holy Week and there is a tie in here to the tragedy that took place at Notre Dame this week.

The overwhelming impression of that crazy trip with my brother was that there were beautiful, kind, faithful souls wherever our travels brought us in France.

All along the way, we found young and old to help us and feed us and point us in the right direction when we had gone in the wrong direction.

As an aside, we loved Joan of Arc and part of our pilgrimage included going to her birthplace Domremy. Apparently there are 3 Domremy’s in France and apparently we should have done that research before we jumped on a train to the wrong Domremy. Details, people!

Eventually we made it to the right Domremy (on my birthday no less) and while attending Mass were asked back to the home of a beautiful French family.

They served us an amazing birthday dinner — though they had no idea it was my birthday — Guinea hen, the most amazing scalloped potatoes, and the most delicious French wine and dessert of my memory!

My how God provides through the goodness of others!

We walked through fields of gold and lavender after dinner and the little kids taught us French and laughed and gave us an insight into the steadfast faith of the French people.

That trip proved to me that the faith was alive and well in France — there still existed beautiful, brave and fervent souls like the Joan of Arcs and John Vianneys of old.

Which brings us back to Monday. Watching that steeple fall into the flames, hit me hard.

Something very beautiful was dying in those flames. And I wondered if it could ever be rebuilt.

We have all grown more secular as a society, France included, and I sat there with tears in my eyes wondering if there would be faithful men and women in France left to rebuild Notre Dame.

To be honest, it was a gut check moment for me as well.

I asked myself would I be wiling to sacrifice my time, talent and treasure the way those Catholics 800 years ago did to build Notre Dame.

Because the truth is, I have grown soft. I have grown comfortable. I have grown more “practical” in my faith.

Those Catholics who built Notre Dame 800 years ago, did it to their detriment. They went way beyond “Uncle” and all the way to “Ouch”.

And let’s not even begin to speak about the French martyrs.

The Catholics of old made their churches spectacularly beautiful, while they lived in simple, humble dwellings.

They invested in their church because it was the best way they knew how to acknowledge the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, dwelling in their midst.

They lived out their faith in powerful and brave ways — dying to themselves in defense of the faith they loved so deeply.

And that beautiful church, Notre Dame, has become a means of encountering Christ for millions of men, women and children who visit each year — many of whom have never stepped foot in a church before.

As I saw that steeple topple into the flames, I asked myself, is there faith left in France to rebuild?

My immediate response was, “No. I can’t imagine there is” and my heart sank.

I share this with you, because I recognize now what that was. It was a lie from the devil.

One of the devil’s traps is to make us despair and to feel all alone — to question the power and fidelity of God and the faith of His people — and I must admit I fell into that trap.

I fell into a deep sadness, and it didn’t end with France. I began to doubt the faith of those of us in America and around the world.

Providentially, a few hours later I came upon this video of a prayer vigil, in which thousands of Parisians and other pilgrims sang hymns and prayed for Mary’s intercession to save Notre Dame.

It made something abundantly clear. There is still a beautiful, profound faith left in France — even if it’s only a remnant.

God has promised to be with us to the end of the world — which means His Church will remain until the end of time.

And even if all the churches of the world were burned down, He would still remain in the Christians who remained. And even if only one priest survived, He would still remain in the Eucharist.

We are not alone.

We are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses who have gone before us and millions of faithful around the world who are living their quiet lives of beautiful faith.

It literally brought tears to my eyes to see this video — because I knew all of my doubts about France were a lie.

I remembered all those people who had been so good to my brother so may years ago. I remembered all those people so alive with their faith.

I worried that maybe they were all gone now, but seeing this video makes it clear.

There are still many beautiful, faithful souls living their faith in France.

I’m not saying France isn’t growing more secular, but what I am saying is that the faithful remnant will remain, and they may be far more numerous than we ever imagined.

Even if Notre Dame had been burned to the ground — and the loss would have been great, indeed — the Light of Christ would continue, the faith would continue in France and on Earth and faithful men and women would rise to rebuild the church again.

The remnant of faithful people will remain in every country, every continent and every land until Jesus returns again.

Let’s you and I be a part of that remnant.

Let’s be like the walls and the stained glass windows and the bell tower that remained standing the next morning after the fire at Notre Dame.

Let’s continue to strive to reflect His Beauty and Light and Love like those Rose Windows.

Lord knows, the world is desperate for it!

Let’s show His strength like those buttresses. Let’s resound with His good news like that Bell Tower.

Let’s encourage each other like those people singing hymns, even on the darkest of days.

Let’s keep our eyes on Christ and His Mother Mary.

Today is a day to go off to our own churches and stand next to our own remnant of faithful and enter into the sadness, the tragedy, the seeming defeat of Good Friday.

It is a sad day, because our tabernacles will be empty.

But in three days time, Easter will come and He will rise again! Hooray!

A blessed Triduum to you.