Rome 2013 — Day Six

Connections, new and old.  That would sum up today.

Church of St. Alphonsus LIgouri, Rome

We began early (are you catching a theme here?) with a bus ride to Saint Alphonsus Ligouri Church, a smaller chapel-style church within eyesight of Santa Maria Maggiore (Saint Mary Major).   This is the home church and headquarters in Rome of the Redemptorists, Archbishop Tobin’s congregation.  As he told some of us, this is the longest address (18 years) at which he has lived in his entire life!  He seemed very much at home!

The church is the repository of the original icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help.  This sixth/seventh century icon, executed in the Byzantine style, is a powerful reminder of the kindness we find in Mary.  It’s depiction is that of the child Jesus clinging to her, his one sandal handing loose from the run he has just made back to her arms after seeing a vision of what the passion would entail (description courtesy of Father Larry Richardt).

Following a wonderful liturgy over which the Archbishop presided, we toured the gardens, shopped at the gift shop, and then boarded our buses for Subiaco.  The Archbishop waved us on; we will meet him on Tuesday morning at the airport for our flights home.

Subiaco is nestled in the mountainous region of the Anio River.  Steep and forest covered, the area is picturesque, to say the least!  Towns cling to the sides of the mountains (Simbruini), well above threats from below.  It is upon such a mountain that the Abbey of Subiaco soars.

Subiaco Abbey

This is the first place which St. Benedict lived as a hermit, in a cave, for three years.  He then gathered his first community of shepherds in an adjacent cave, eventually founding the Benedictine Order and way of life (Ora et Labora — prayer and work).  Being trained by the Benedictines for 6 years of my seminary life, and still being very much attached in heart and memory to St. Meinrad Archabbey, it was a very moving experience to stand outside the gated cave of St. Benedict’s first hermetic home, and within the walls of this monastery which sprouts from the rocky bed of the mountain.  The many frescoes (paintings executed on wet plaster) done over the centuries, depicting the life of St. Benedict, the life of Mary, and the life of Christ, were breathtaking.  Standing on the edge of the courtyard to gaze into the Anio River valley was delightful.

Courtyard, St. Scholastic Abbey

Another abbey sits only a short walk below, St. Scholastica.  The name is deceptive, as this abbey is not of women religious (Scholastica was the twin sister of Benedict), but of 19 monks of these twin “abbeys”.  First known as the Abbey of St. Sylvester, the Abbey of St. Scholastica is the longest inhabited, functioning Abbey in western Christendom.  There was beauty here in the three courtyards, each unique and built over many centuries.  World War Two saw two wings of the monastery destroyed by Allied bombs, but care was taken in their reconstruction so as to belie that anything happened.

Lunch was wonderful — a light pasta, green salad with Italian tomatoes (not quite Indiana, but very delicious!), and a layered cake with ice cream as one layer, overlaid with a wonderful berry sauce.

Departing back to Rome, most of us snoozed the entire way.  Arriving at our hotel, we scattered to various venues — last-ditch shopping, siesta, walking.  Our farewell dinner was at “The View” ristorante.  It is perched on the Mario Hill (one of the seven hills of Rome) and overlooks Rome.  The excellent meal was thus accompanied by a vista for the memory and the noise of a very appreciative 81 travelers.

Tomorrow we embark at 7:15am for the airport and home.  Unless there is something very memorable to take place, this will be the final entry for now.  Some editing and addition of pictures should follow (July 4th?).  To all those who have read, thanks.  I hope you have enjoyed the journey with me!

Father Rick

For more detailed stories and many wonderful photographs of the entire pilgrimage, go to http://www.archindy.org website and the Pilgrimage blog. 

Rome 2013 — Day Five

Il Corpo di Cristo.  El Cuerpo de Cristo.  The Body of Christ.  Italian, Spanish, English — each language speaks of a most profound belief we share as Catholics: the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.  Once again our pilgrimage through the Eucharist (Mass) reminded us of the universality of our faith and our bondedness as one “in” and “as” the Body of Christ!  Being privileged to distribute the Lord’s reality to the people at Mass today in yet another language was very moving for me, leading me to a deep gratitude for the gifts God has bestowed!

It was a very LONG day today.  A three-hour bus drive with one stop for necessities brought us to Siena, a medieval walled city.  Founded in the 8th Century B.C. by the sons of Remus (the brother of Romulus), this city is divided into 17 districts (contradas), each having a distinct flag and animal symbol.  Built on three hills, walking in Sienna is a constant up/down experience on the cobblestone streets.

Two famous residents were Catherine of Sienna, the advisor to Pope’s, and Bernadine of Sienna, a great preacher who created the IHS symbol (Iota, Eta, Symga — the first three Greek letters in Jesus name) with which we are all so familiar.

After a brief entry tour, our group gathered in the Duomo (Cathedral church of the Archdiocese of Sienna) with Archbishop Tobin to celebrate Sunday Mass.  This was a parish mass, and so entirely in Italian!  Thank goodness they gave us a worship aid in Italian for our responses and prayers, and the readings in English!  The Archbishop celebrated well in Italian; his homily was good (I was told so by the seminarian, Tony Hollowell, who accompanied us).  Concelebrating was a bit awkward for Father Eckstein and myself (Italian is new to both of us) but Father Larry settled well into it based on his 4 years of training from 1959-1963 in Rome.

The remainder of the day was given over to touring (our English speaking guide, a native of Sienna, was excellent) and shopping.  At 3:45pm we all gathered at a restaurant on the square for our evening meal — much, much food, bottled water and wine).  Full beyond need, we embarked on our buses for the long return journey to Rome.

Father Rick

P.S. Pictures of this day will follow.  A pressing need for sleep did not blend well with downloading of photos, choosing which to post, and the time it takes to add the photos to the blog!

 

 

 

 

Rome 2013 — Pallium Day (4)

Statue of St. Peter, vested, with cupola and Spirit burst in background, St. Peter’s

Once again it was early to rise.  I suppose this is the lot of pilgrims!  The necessity for this greeting-of-the-morning was an early arrival at Vatican City.  The Archbishop and our lead guide, Paolo, arranged for our early arrival at a direct entrance to St. Peter’s to avoid the long lines and metal detectors.  And so, all 100+ of us (pilgrims and members of the Tobin family) arrived on our buses by 7:15am!  We gathered in the cobble-paved area between the Domus Santae Marthae (hotel in the Vatican and residence of Pope Francis I) and St. Peter’s Basilica.

Domus Marta, Hotel and current residence of Pope Francis

Once arrived and situated, we were escorted into the Vatican with the Archbishop.  Rather quickly he was separated from us to prepare. We were all lead to our seats through the vastness of St. Peter’s.  And weren’t we lucky!  His family had seats to the left of the great cupola above the main altar, and the folks from Indy had front row seats just behind the clergy section (see photo below).

Conversations were brisk and varied among us until 8:30.  We were then lead in praying the rosary as preparation for the celebration.  The mysteries were announced in Italian, English and Spanish.   Prayers were in Latin (first part: Pater Noster….   Ave Maria….   Gloria Patri….) and all languages (second part, e.g.: Give us this day…..   Holy Mary, Mother of God….   As it was in the beginning…)  It was a wonderful experience of the global nature of our Church!

Soon after the rosary, we were all encouraged to remain in a prayerful spirit and refrain from applauding the procession (especially Pope Francis and the Archbishops).  Immediately trumpets sounded a piercing fan-fare, and the procession began with organ and chant.

Archbishop Tobin, in procession, taller just right of center

The liturgy began as always with the sign of the cross, followed immediately with an announcement of the occasion (Feast of St. Peter and Paul, pallium bestowal), a promise by the Archbishops to serve well the Church and the Holy Father, a blessing of the pallia, and the actual bestowal.  It all went so smoothly and reverently, while the choirs (Sistine Chapel and boys’ choirs) sang!

This was a solemn feast with much assembly singing (Kyrie, Gloria, Psalm response, acclamations, Lord’s Prayer) and choir (Credo and antiphons).  The solemnity was punctuated by incense (a great deal of it and no coughing!), and a sung Gospel by the deacon.  Pope Francis preached (the text of which I will post later, or create a link to a good source).  The Holy Father prayed Eucharistic Prayer Three, including as we have recently did ourselves “St. Joseph, her spouse”.  Distribution of Communion was at or near our seats by priests vested in cassock, surplice, and a red stole.  It all went smoothly, though communing 3,000+ folks takes time!  The choirs chanted the Communion antiphon and another eucharistic piece, and we then all sang together the ancient “Ubi Caritas”.

With a final papal blessing, the liturgy concluded with a long recessional dotted by smatterings of applause as folks noted the passing of their Archbishop and the Holy Father.

In a rather short time our 100+ group was escorted outdoors to St. Peter’s Square were we traversed the square, a short distance of Roman street, and a passage through the bus terminal on the Gianicolo Hill which devolved us into the grounds of the North American College for a wonderful reception and a chance to personally greet and congratulate the Archbishop and receive his blessing.

Father Rick Ginther, Archbishop Joseph Tobin, Father Larry Richardt

By 2:30pm we embarked on our buses to our respective hotels, some for siesta, some to roam the streets of Rome for shopping!  Tonight is dinner for the entire party at another restaurant in the Piazza Navonna.  (Oh, my, am I going to have a hard time explaining the extra weight I am gaining to my trainer!)

Rome 2013 — Day Three

Morning came VERY early!  We were on the bus by 6:30am, driving the relatively short distance to the Gianicolo underground parking garage which sits under the top of the same hill that holds the North American College!  This garage was built for the Jubilee Year 2000 to accomodate the many buses of tourists during that time till now.

The group descended the steps and found ourselves in Saint Peter’s Square!  To our left we saw Archbishop Tobin walking with the chief guide for our group about details of the next days.  Father Larry and I were welcomed to accompany the Archbishop into the Vatican, passing along the way buildings we would not normally be able to see.  It was a very relaxed walk with the Archbishop’s clear description being of great help.

We entered a side door to St. Peter’s, and followed our guide through the vast basilica to the sacristy.  There we vested (amidst the hustle of the many other priests and bishops vesting for their individual or group liturgies) and processed back through the basilica to the stairwell leading to St. Peter’s tomb deep under the main altar.  We entered the chapel which faces the tomb, and celebrated a wonderful liturgy of St. Iranaeus, Bishop and Martyr.  Our responses and song echoed brilliantly throughout the crypt, at times in competition with the other crypt liturgies.  (Sadly, I have no photos of the crypt or Mass; maybe at a later date when someone shares such with me!  You could look to the Archdiocesan website today to see any pictures downloaded to the site from our activities — a daily gift to any and all who want to see what we are doing).

After return to the hotel for breakfast, the majority of the group headed back to the Vatican to view the Sistine Chapel and Vatican Museum.  I, Father Larry, and his brother and sister-in-law, chose to spend our time doing a little shopping and going to the Castel San Angelo and its museum.

Originally built in the second century as the mausoleum of Emperor Hadrian, this moated structure later became in the 16th Century a fortress and safe-haven for various Pope’s.  It’s command of the River Tiber and it’s massive walls, along with a connecting overhead “bridge way” from the Vatican castle to the fortress, truly are an amazing remainder of the days of popes as “kings” of the majority of the Italian peninsula and their need for defensive redoubtments in time of siege.  It also became a form of prison for popes and others who were not in favor from time to time.

Rather than tell more story in words, I will let a number of pictures with captions speak.  I hope you enjoy them!

Father Rick

Model of the original mausoleum of Hadrian

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mausoleum and successive papal additions (lowest level to top, respectively)

Interior ramped tunnel, original mausoleum

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stairwell ascending, Papal addition

Ancient urn in wall niche, ascending stairs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Courtyard, midway to the top of the fortress

View of St. Peter’s Basilica from a mid-point window of the fortress

 

 

 

 

 

 

View of Tiber bridge leading to the foretress

St. Michael the Archangel atop the fortress, sheathing his sword, to show the end of the plague.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rome 2013 — Day Two

Thursday broke cool and sunny.  We emerged from our hotel (Cicerone) to a blue sky, a slight breeze, and the sounds of Rome well awake.  We boarded our tour bus with guide Fabrizio and driver Stefano, winding our way through the narrow streets of old Rome, past monuments large and small, apartments, ancient and 20th Century.  The cars were many, the motorbikes loud as they darted among the cars, often squirting through to head beyond the pack.  Soon enough we were on the autostrada (Italian interstate) heading for Orvieto, our day’s destination.

The two-hour journey revealed low mountains, lush greenery, and a countryside bustling with the activities of country life and farming.  Small industries dotted the exit areas, and minor constructions forced some I-70 type slowings.  Our guide was quite verbal, literally, regaling us with descriptions, commentary, and humor.

Orvieto rose on the horizon to our left as we exited following a brief rest stop.  This ancient city sits atop a limestone rock formation, soaring above the plain below.  It was in ancient times quite defensible, and therefore a place of safety for both king and pope alike.  The jewel of Orvieto is the duomo (Italian for “house”, in this case the house of God) dedicated to Mary.

The duomo sits in the midst of the well-preserved medieval city, whose narrow cobblestone streets and vivid flowers hanging from window and trelisse invite the traveler to explore.  The town square is overshadowed by the towering Romanesque / Gothic duomo.

Facade, Duomo, Orvieto

As you can see from these two pictures, its exterior is a somewhat unique choice of two colors of stone, fluted columns, excellent mosaics, and bas-relief stone carvings of the story of salvation from creation through the prophets to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

The massive bronze central door is modern, 1970, depicting the works of mercy (Matthew 25:31ff).  Most telling is Pope John XXIII visiting a prison (“…I was in prison and you visited me.”)

Inside, the marble floor stretched 270 feet from door to apse, the wooden-beamed ceiling looms 90 feet overhead, and the air was filled with the sound of shuffling feet, recorded Gregorian chant, and the hushed whispers of guides over headsets.  One side-chapel (Mary Magdalene) contained exquisite frescoes byFra Angelico and Signorelli, and the other enshrined a 13th century corporal splashed with drops of Christ’s precious blood (a rare miracle from thirteenth century which occurred when a German priest struggled with doubts about the real presence and the Lord helped him be a full believer!)  It was in this latter chapel that we celebrated Mass (St. Cyril of Alexandria).  I was honored to preside and preach, assisted by Fathers Larry Richardt and Frank Eckstein.  The liturgy was song-filled (surprised?) and prayerful.

Afterwards we spent the afternoon touring the town, shopping, eating some fine Italian food and sampling the gelatto (yum!)  It was then to the bus for a sleepy ride back to Rome.  Dinner was out on our own.  I enjoyed it at the San Raphael rooftop restaurant just off the Piazza Navonna with Dan and Katie Rushing, parishioners of SS. Peter and Paul Cathedral where I was their pastor.  A brisk walk brought me back to the Hotel Cicerone, and to bed.

Buona notte!

Rome 2013 — The First Day

Well, we arrived in Rome early, and had to wait on the tarmac for a goodly time until they had a gate open at Leonardo Da Vinci Airport.   Coasting to the gate, we found ourselves departing from the back of the plane down a stairs (just like the President from Air Force One), to the bus awaiting us.  We boarded, found ourselves passing through customs (a leer from the official and a stamp on our passport got us through quickly!)  And then we gathered around kiosk 5 for our luggage, which in Italian fashion SLOWLY descended onto the carrousel.  From there a long walk to the bus with our enthusiastic Italian guide, and off to the Catacombs of San Sebastian.

I have never been to these catacombs.   They lie just opposite of San Calixtus (which I experience on the 2006 Pilgrimage to Italy, the larger and more noted of all the 60 catacombs outside the old city walls of Rome).   Our group of 81 pilgrims and Archbishop Tobin learned that San Sebastian has over 7 miles of tunnels, 3 levels, and interred over 100,000 bodies at its zenith.  The original area was a Roman (pagan) burial area (200 A.D.) for mausolea (tombs for the ashes of families and citizens of Rome who were pagan).  By 300 A.D., the catacombs were hewn from the tufa (volcanic) rock, and the Christians buried the bodies of their dead in the niches and arched family areas below ground.  By 400 A.D., the mausolea were buried under debris and dirt, a veranda was built over this site, and finally a church was erected, first to Peter and Paul (whose remains had lain here for a time), and then to Saint Sebastian, a Milanese soldier of the palace guard who, upon becoming Christian, was shot with arrows and finally flayed alive (his remains are in the church over his tomb).

Ceiling of the Chapel of San Sebastian.  Wood, suspended.

The remainder of the day was spent gaining our hotels (2 for this large group) and resting until 4:15pm (10:15am Indy time).  We then went to the North American College (seminary residence for North American’s studying for the priesthood) to celebrate Mass for the day with Archbishop Tobin.  Finally, we spent a wonderful evening in the Piazza Navonna viewing the art works, the architecture, and sharing in a fine meal at a local restaurant (good mineral water, very good red wine, and a menu magnificent!)

Now, to bed and preparation for an early morning, with a 2 hour bus trip culminating with Mass at Orvietto.  Ciao!

Fr. Rick

Henryville, Day One

It was a hot Sunday afternoon as we all arrived in our separate vehicles to begin our journey to Henryville, Indiana.  We were 28 individuals, younger and older, setting out on a mission to assist in rebuilding some small part of the Henryville area, devastated by tornadoes on March 2 of this year.  14 people died in these late winter twisters, with hundreds of homes, businesses, churches and schools destroyed or damaged.  We were to be, as we found out, the followers behind 7600 folk who since March 3 had come to the area to assist in clean-up and rebuilding efforts!  And the work, we were to find, will stretch for another 14 – 18 months after our foray.

Preparing for departure, in the shade (wise folk!)

Well, there we were — gathered at St. Patrick Parish parking lot, lolling/waiting for the pastor to arrive.  When he did appear, we quickly loaded all the vehicles to go, briefly shared a plan of when and where to stop, and set out.  In caravan through the streets of eastern Terre Haute, to Indiana 46, thence to I-70 West we sped (within posted limits, more or less!)  We attained I-465 South at Indianapolis, tooling along in traffic that did not seem to notice the speed limit markers (that’s Indy for you!), coursing our way onto I-65 South toward our eventual destination.  No events of note so far.

But then the plan unraveled somewhat.  Our haste to depart left us without a cell number for each vehicle’s occupants, and the scheduled dinner break at Columbus became a dinner break at Columbus, Seymour and Henryville!  No harm in this, just a few anxious moments, a tentative stop to regroup in smaller gaggles, a repast at various eateries accompanied by texts, e-mails and cell conversations to ascertain that all were well.

Leaving I-65 at the Henryville exit, we wound our way on US 31 and county road to our home for a week: Country Lake Christian Retreat in Underwood, Indiana.

Prior correspondence had indicated that our troop 0f 28 would be housed in The Lodge, a dormitory building for men and women.  More recent rumor had us being housed in either wagons or teepees (see below)!  To our surprise, an apology greeted us: the center was sorry (!), but we would be housed at the retreat center for the week — a structure the likes of a 3 star motel!  Our welcomer smiled, kindly instructed us, and set us on our way to our rooms — each with 2 queen sized beds, a private bath, a desk, and a sliding door to the porch/patio!  Containing our disappointment (!?), we unpacked, with some exploring (the youth quickly finding the pool room, setting about youthful competition).

One of our original “housing” options: Wagons

 

Another “housing” option: teepees!

 

Lobby of our actual accommodations: The Retreat Center

 

Entrance to Country Lake Retreat Center

View of Retreat Center from the lake shore

 

Youth at play

We gathered with all 110 volunteers (!) from various Christian denominations at about 9:00pm to go over house rules, site rules, and find out our work assignments.  Our group asked Steve Douglas (SP), Ken Nordmeyer (SP), Steve Canal (SMM), and Kathy Hutton (SMM) to work with the site and task assignment leader.  Fr. Rick was to work with the volunteer coordinator about group logistics.  Before these folk split off from our group,  God’s people joined in a prayerful dedication of our work yet to come, our thanks for safe arrival, and our hope to make a difference in the lives of those whom we were to serve.

We departed rather quickly for our rooms and the day to come.  All were to be in their rooms by 10pm, and lights out by 11pm.  But there were youth in our group, right?  And some lost track (?) of time.  A knock upon Father Rick’s door came, with a youthful messenger concerned out the noise some were making on the 2nd floor.  Donning clothes only recently abandoned for sleep, Father Rick journeyed up the stairs and down a long hallway to encourage said youth to bed and sleep.  All readily agreed, with one being astute enough to ask “Were we than loud that you could hear all the way down at your room on the first floor?”  The question remained without response, lest the youthful messenger be revealed.  (This was the last time I had such an evening interruption; the work would take a toll even on the energy of youth for the next 4 days!)

Tomorrow would soon dawn!

 

St. Boniface and Beyond, Part Three

Sunday dawned bright and crisp in Winnipeg.  Following a shared breakfast, Archbishop Albert and I set out for a 24+ hour away time.

Our first destination was a Mass and Blessing in Richer, Manitoba.  Richer is about an hour’s drive south and east of St. Boniface.  Formerly a community whose life was sustained by the timber industry, many of its historic buildings are timbered by massive beams and joists, hand-hewn and lovingly set.  Today, the timber industry in the area is fallow.  In fact, the prairie flat countryside belies that there was a timber industry, for what trees exist here are predominantly aspen, birch, and fir.

The church, Enfant-Jésus (Infant Jesus) dominates the town as the tallest building (not unlike many 19th century rural churches  throughout Canada and United States).  It is very attractive in its simplicity.

Enfant-Jesus, Richer, Manitoba (photo courtesy of Marcel Gauthier, secretary of the Enfant-Jésus Heritage Site )

The parish which once called this structure home was closed about 15 years ago.  It was, as all such closings, a painful moment in the life of the members.  The people were invited to became a part of the parish in St. Anne’s, Manitoba.  However, they never lost their love or attachment to their ancestral home.  They are predominantly Metis; it was their forebears who founded, built and therein encountered the Lord through the Sacraments, catechesis and a strong community bound in faith in this place. 15 years hence, there remains a vibrant presence surrounding this structure and place.  After 10 years of weekly, fervent prayer by a group of elderly folks whose hope was never shaken (but whose lives on this earth were rapidly moving into the next), the grand-dame of the group called together folks and told them that unless younger folk began to lead…   Well, the point was clear; the result was a Heritage Committee comprised of younger active folk who have made the place a Heritage Site (equivalent to U.S. Registered Historical Landmark). Each year the Archbishop comes to Enfant-Jésus to celebrate Mass at this historic site, which at all other times is a museum (boards which hold the artifacts, photos, and other memorabilia are placed on the pews for display).  This particular day, however, the site vibrates with energy, for Monsigneur (the French address for a bishop) is present to pray with the people and to ask God’s blessings upon their preservation efforts and upon a new monument in the cemetery (see below). We were very warmly welcomed by Marcel Gauthier and others upon our arrival, who escorted us to the sacristy.  The interior of the church was cleary ready for this day!  The Archbishop went about his preparations with the organizers and the various liturgical ministers (he does not travel with a Master of Ceremonies) to be sure that we would be able to pray well together.  He enlisted my help; I was pleased to assist my friend and these good folk.

St. Boniface and Beyond, Part 2

Saturday afternoon – Albert arrived after 1:00pm at my door, knocking to let me know he was now free.  It had been a long morning for him, an extra-innings meeting of pastoral importance, and then catching up with the confirmation class at the Archbishop’s House.  Though a bit tired, still and all he was ready to go.

We piled into his car, and  drove to the Ukrainian Catholic Cathedral of the Archeparchy of Winnipeg, hoping it would be open.  Alas, as so many center-city churches, it was locked tight; and it being Saturday, there was no one around — the parking lot was empty save for us.

Sts. Vladimir and Olga Cathedral, Archeparchy of Winnipeg

(You may have noticed by now that there are three — count them — three “Archdioceses” in Winnipeg!  “Archeparchy” is the eastern rites’ name for “archdiocese”.  If there are three Archdioceses, then there are three archbishops, three cathedrals!  It is a very unusual situation, which I simply wanted to point out; I will refrain from exhaustive explanation of how this works!)

We moved on to our appointed activity — a tour of the Bishop Velychkovsky Martyr’s Shrine at St. Joseph Ukrainian Catholic Church.

Vasyl Veychkovsky was born in 1903 as a citizen of the Russian Empire under Csar Nicholas II.  He experienced the tumult of World War I, the Russian Revolution, and the rise of the Soviet Union.  He “grew up in a priestly family in Western Ukraine”, a member of the Ukrainian Catholic Church — an Eastern Rite Church in communion with Rome (thus, “Catholic“).  “As a deacon, he joined the Redemptorists in 1924.  The following year he was ordained a priest and began his missionary work, first by teaching in the Minor Seminary, and then preaching parish missions in Volyn and Halychyna, Ukraine”.

When the Germans invaded the Soviet Union in 1941,  a number of Ukrainians (Eastern Europeans of Slavic origin, not Russian) threw off allegiance to the soviet and initially welcomed the Germans.  “At the end of the Second World War” with the defeat of the Axis powers, “…a fierce persecution” under Josef Stalin began, in part as punishment of the Ukrainian people.  “Father Vasyl was arrested when he refused to deny his faith.  His harsh sentence of death by firing squad was later commuted to ten years in Soviet Labor camps” (what Alexander Solzhenitsyn called the “Gulag archipelago” — work camps above the Arctic Circle). 

“Returning to Ukraine in 1955, Father Velychkosky worked clandestinely in the illegal underground Catholic Church”.  In 1963, when the Ukrainian Catholic bishop was released from gulag and deported”, he “secretly ordained…” Father Velychkosky “a bishop in a Moscow hotel.  Soon after (1969)”, Bishop Velychkosky “was arrested.  His three-year sentence was filled with severe physical, chemical, electrical and psychological torture”.  Never denying his faith or the Church, when released in 1972 “he was exiled from Ukraine”.  Ailing from years of torture and deprivation, he was invited by the Archbishop of Winnipeg to come to Canada.  There he traveled, taught, and wrote for the short time he had remaining in earthly life.  He died in June, 1973, and was buried in Winnipeg.  Even then he was considered a martyr for the faith.  (Quoted sections are from the text of a brochure produced by and for the Shrine, www.bvmartyrshrine.com)

We were met at the door of St. Joseph Church by our guide, a young university student who works for the Shrine as assistant to the director.  Speaking in English lightly accented by her Ukrainian origins, she lead us through the Shrine by way of the Church.  Her explanations granted us access to the life of Bishop Velychkovsky (more detailed than above!).  More importantly, she also shared the history of the work of the Shrine’s staff.   Through ardent transcription of hand-written documents about and by the Bishop, lengthy summer travel to Ukraine and Russia to gain access to KGB documents, personal interviews of survivors (priests, nuns, laity) who knew the Bishop, and searches in Ukraine and Canada for objects which the Bishop had used in his ministry, they have pieced together a burgeoning archive of materials for their beloved Bishop and Martyr.

The Shrine is beautiful in its simplicity.

Interior, St. Joseph's Ukrainian Catholic Church, Winnipeg

Ukrainian Martyrs plaque, St. Joseph Ukrainian Catholic Church, Winnipeg

Icon of Blessed Vasyl Velychkovsky, Bishop and Martyr

 

Shrine, with sarcophagus of Blessed Vasyl Velychkovsky, Bishop and Martyr

Our guide continued her informative and faith-filled explanations, showing us personal relics of Blessed Vasyl, from vestments, to the socks in which he was originally buried, to a personal manuscript which he was urged to write before he died.  The wonder which came over a guide as she spoke and explained was moving; this was especially true when she described the process of disinterment of the original wooden casket which, in just days after exhumation, it was disintegrating but the body of Blessed Vasyl was found to be intact!  

His remains are now sealed in a sarcophagus made of metal, encased under glass, as shown above.   

While our guide left us momentarily to retrieve her camera, Archbishop Albert and I knelt in prayer before the sarcophagus.  It was moving for me in a way unexpected as I held a number of folk whose lives are fraught with the challenge of disease in my heart and in prayer, asking Blessed Vasyl to intercede for them in their distress.

Upon her return, our guide gave each of us a packet of brochures, a relic of Blessed Vasyl, a bottle of oil touched to fabric which he had worn, and a book.  We were both grateful.  The requisite pictures were taken, and though reluctant to leave this holy site, our guide needed to be about other things, and there were parts of Winnipeg yet to unfold for this tourist and his guiding friend.

Archbishop Albert and Fr. Rick, Shrine of Blessed Vasyl Velychkovsky,Bishop and Martyr

It was cloudy when we emerged from St. Joseph Church.  We clambered into the car, and headed back west toward the central area of Winnipeg where the government buildings of Manitoba stand.  Our destination: the Manitoba Legislative Building.

When we arrived, we parked one of the streets which encompass it.  Surrounded by grassy areas sprinkled with large trees, we moved to the side entrances, hoping to avoid a demonstration taking place on the front entrance steps (God bless democracy!)   Our avoidance was not to be allowed, as locked doors and signs told that the sole entrance was the front.  We therefore unobtrusively (right, Albert’s 6 foot 2, as am I) climbed the wrap-around steps to the entry and entered just behind one of the demonstration speakers who was ensconced between two pillars (we found we could agree with the basic reason for the demonstration: legislative support for women with disabilities).

Manitoba Legislative Building (source: http://www.gov.mb.ca/mit/legtour/exterior.html)

 

Entering the very large Greco-Roman revival structure, we came face-to-face with the two guards on duty at their station.  Friendly in that now familiar Canadian way, they waved us on.  We stepped into a grand entry, and then walked about taking in the size and breadth a simple beauty of the place.

Interior grand steps, Manitoba Legislative Building

 

Skylight above grand stairs, Manitoba Legislative Building

 

Interior Dome, Manitoba Legislative Building

 

Fresco, Manitoba Legislative Building

 

As the room was closed where the legislature meets, we removed ourselves again to the exterior (but not before we had to negotiate our way through a group of young Filipinos, all dressed in tuxedo and flowing dresses, a wedding party there for that pre or post wedding ceremony ritual, photographs!  He was handsome, she radiant; all were intent on the best shots amidst the grandeur of the building.  The Filipino population in Winnipeg exceeds 50,000 at this time, an influx not unlike that in the States).

Outside in the overcast, with a bit of a mist in the air, we walked to the back entrance of the Legislative Building toward the Red River walkway and the memorial of Louis Riel, which stands overlooking the river, intently gazing west. 

Louis Riel, founder of Manitoba Province, Canada

 

Manitoba Legislative Building, as seen from Red River shore, looking west

 

We turned north to walk the biking / running pathway which courses through the western edge of the grounds.  Passed by a cyclist or two, we soon came upon statues celebrating another prominent figure of Manitoba.  Chicago has its cattle; Cincinnati has its pigs; Terre Haute has its horses; Indianapolis its race cars; Manitoba — its bears!

 

 

 

 

 

It was at this point that Albert informed me of the origin of Winnie-the-Pooh: Winnipeg!  A story of a bear, its master traveling to England, the bear remaining with a family whose child grows up to write the stories of this child’s favorite!  Albert was very proud to say Winnipeg spawned this bear; he also laughed when realizing how few people would have any idea!  With the laughter still echoing, he posed with one of the gang.  Nothing more need be said!

 

Unable to bear any more laughter, we strode toward our car for some more somber viewing: the Lieutenant Governor’s Residence (the current occupant is a Canadian of Chinese descent), and a statue of her majesty, the Queen.  We were impressed by the residence; we paused, somewhat reverently, before the queen; no bows, though!

Lieutenant Governor's Residence, Winnipeg, Manitoba

 

Queen Elizabeth II, statue outside of the Manitoba Legislative Building

 

Our time was now becoming limited, as the Archbishop had an engagement with a seniors group of French-speaking actors celebrating their 25th anniversary of thespian fun.  And so we returned to the grounds of the Archbishop’s House in smart time.  We did have sufficient time to entertain one more statue.  It seems that the statue of Louis Riel we had seen at the Legislative Building was the not the first on that pedestal.  The original was removed in favor of what we had seen, that statesman-like figure.  Albert abjured that one could only grasp the exchange by sighting. 

The original is on the campus of the University of St. Boniface, adjacent to the Cathedral complex, within easy walk.  We passed the main building of the University (Albert’s college alma mater where all classes are taught in French).  The monument which the school erected stands to the east of this building.  As I was left to decide why the exchange, so I will leave you to decide.

Main building, University of St. Boniface (just east of the Cathedral of St. Boniface)

 

Original Statue of Louis Riel Memorial, transferred to campus of University of St. Boniface

 

Plaque at Louis Riel Monument, campus of University of St. Boniface. Be sure to enlarge viewing of the photo to read (on the left) the English version of the history of this monument.

 

Our evening activities parted.  Albert left for the Senior Thespians meal and vignette performances (later he declaimed them “delightful!“)  I found my way to a delightful dinner and excellent conversation with the house residents, followed by some reading, watching the World Series (a good game), enduring for a time Notre Dame vs. USC (dismal), and awaiting His Grace’s return.  When he sauntered in, we indulged once again in fruit, cheeses, crackers and some fine scotch, conversing about our day and looking toward the next.  We retired in time, to sleep and then to rise for Sunday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

St. Boniface and Beyond, Part One

 

The day broke sunny and crisp in St. Boniface, the original French foundation of the city of Winnipeg on the eastern shore of the Red River.  The day was going to be a day of learning.

Geography and History — The former Social Studies teacher in me cannot resist sharing some geographical and historical perspective which might be helpful for those readers from the States (about 99.9% of all the readers of this blog).

Bordering North Dakota and Minnesota on the south, with Ontario east and Saskatchewan west, Manitoba is (as most of the western provinces of Canada) massive.  It encompasses 647,797 square kilometers (250,116 square miles), with a population (2006 Census) of 1,148,401 (Source: Statistics Canada).  Known as the “The Land of 100,000 Lakes”, these many waters flow within the vastness of the prairie (the province is table-top flat).  

The modern nation of Canada (itself a part of the British Empire; Elizabeth II is their Queen) comprises 10 provinces and 3 territories.  Spanning over 9.9 million square kilometres (6.151 million square miles) of which 891,000 square kilometres are water, it is the world’s second largest country by total area, sharing with the United States the largest land border in the world.

Like all the “Americas”, the first to inhabit this land were aboriginal tribes and their civilizations.  The Vikings made a brief foray to the eastern shores circa 1000 C.E. (Christian, or Common Era).  Beginning in the 15th Century European explorers came: first, John Cabot (English, 1497), followed by the French explorers Jacque Cartier (1534) and Samuel de Champlain (1603).  From among the French who began to settle these newly discovered lands came the voyageurs, buffalo hunters and fur trappers working for the Hudson Bay Company.  In time, they met, interacted with, and in many cases, married peoples of the First Nations (aboriginal tribes, Cree, Sioux, among others). 

When France was defeated by England in the French and Indian War, the Treaty of Paris passed all the northern French colonies to England (1763).  From that point forward the life of these peoples mixed into what would one day become “The Confederation”  and eventually, the “Dominion of Canada” (1867). 

The Province of  Manitoba entered the Confederation on July 15, 1870, through the leadership of Louis Riel (a Metis — descendent of mixed blood, French and First Nation) who would play a pivotal role in the history of Saskatchewan as well.

What would become the capital, Winnipeg, began as an aboriginal gathering area at the confluence of the Assiniboine and Red Rivers.  The Metis, drawn as the aboriginal peoples to this natural gathering, founded within sight of this natural flowing of waters the area of St. Boniface (now a part of Winnipeg).  As a French based settlement, it grew and flourished, expanding its influence west and north.  In time, the entire area of Manitoba became for these French-speaking Catholics the Diocese, then the Archdiocese, of St.Boniface. 

In 1916, the Archdiocese of Winnipeg was created from the western portion of St. Boniface (a change brought about by concerns of the English-speaking Irish population who wished to have more of an identity outside of the predominant French-speaking St. Boniface).

Today the Archdiocese of St. Boniface encompasses the eastern portion of the city of Winnipeg, continues south below the Assiniboine River to a point where an artificial line drops south to the border with North Dakota and Minnesota.  The eastern boundary is shared with the Province of Ontario, and continues north to an artificial line cutting west somewhere between Beren River and Poplar River on the shore of Lake Winnipeg.  Thus St. Boniface is, cartographically speaking, an “L” laid backwards.

My friend, Archbishop Albert LeGatt, has served the Archdiocese of St. Boniface since 2009.  He came to Winnipeg from being the Bishop of Saskatoon in Saskatchewan (2001 – 2009), and prior a priest and native son of the Diocese of Prince Albert, Saskatchewan.

Saturday Morning – We saw each other at breakfast, both having slept well, thank God.  Albert had an important pastoral meeting away, which left me to wander on foot the area.

The Archbishop’s House and Cathedral complex sit on the eastern bank of the Red River, just south where the former meets the Assiniboine River.  It was to this juncture that I set out.

Known as “The Forks” (La Fourche), this park area is central to the history of Winnipeg / St. Boniface as the aboriginal gathering area in use for over 6,000 years.  Access from St. Boniface is over an artistically designed suspension footbridge.

 

Suspension walkway, St. Boniface and Winnipeg, over Red River

 

Looming large, as one crosses the walkway, soars the Canadian Museum for Human Rights, still under construction. 

Canadian Museum for Human Rights, as seen from the suspension walkway

 

 

 

New Canadian Museum for Human Rights, Winnipeg

 

Briefly overcome by the immensity of this construction project, and forced to contemplate a museum dedicated to such focus — not only its importance but its broad sweep for all humanity — I lingered in admiration.

The brisk, biting west wind did cut through my reverie, inviting me to amble further into the park.  Another artifact of adolescent daring and freedom quickly loomed — a roller blade / skateboard arena! 

Roller Blade / Skate Board pit, The Forks, Winnipeg

 

There was a lone boarder in the park.  I cannot imagine his delight to have such a facility at hand and under board!

Moving west, the park continued to unfold in open spaces, and eventually larger structures housing shops.

The Forks Park, with view west to shops area

 

I found within the shops a large variety of eateries and shops — Thai, Chinese, Canadian, Pancake House with French crepes, gelato and smoothie; ceramic, crystal, jewelry, comic book, leather, hand-woven goods, and of course, a “Canada” store.  I’m not much of a shopper, but the fruit smoothie proved awfully good, and letting it warm up a bit outside lead me to roam many of the shops looking for bargains (I found no such to my taste, but did find a fine gift for a friend).

Braving what I hoped was warmer air (it was), I set out along the shore of the Assiniboine River toward its confluence with the Red River.

The actual confluence of the Assiniboine and Red Rivers, Winnipeg

 

I walked along the river bank walkway back toward the suspension walkway.  The sites along and across the river were impressive.

English portion (with First Nation, then French, below) of plaque describing history and importance of the Red River, Winnipeg

 

The Cathedral of St. Boniface, from western bank of Red River, Winnipeg

 

Suspension walkway from Winnipeg (west) shore of Red River

 

The river walk showed much evidence of the floods of the spring and summer along the Red and Assiniboine Rivers, with the muddy water line a good 20 feet above my head, and large drift logs yet pinned at the top of the pylon supporting the suspension walkway.  If not for the flood-control ditch (dug around the city of Winnipeg after the mammoth 1950 flood), the city would have suffered great damage this year.  As it was, the city just got to see a lot of water leave behind its markings and mud!

It would be quite a flood if waters were to reach the Cathedral of St. Boniface.  Upon the eastern bank of the Red River, the cathedral rises majestically, nestled amidst trees and fronted by Tache Avenue and the Cemetery of St. Boniface. 

The Cathedral of St. Boniface, from western shore of Red River, Winnipeg

 

From a distance and in the proper light, one easily imagines an impressive interior of the cathedral based upon what one sees of the impressive exterior.  From 1905 until July 22, 1968, it would have been possible to match vision of exterior to interior.  But that day a disastrous fire broke out amidst some maintenance work on the roof, and within hours the roof, bells, and entire interior save the sacristy area were destroyed.  

Facade of the Cathedral of St. Boniface, set amidst the Cemetery of St. Boniface. Note sky and bisecting roof line in the midst of the rose window frame.

   

Cathedral of St. Boniface surviving facade

 

Towers and Rose Window engulfed in flames, St. Boniface Cathedral, July 22, 1968

 

Roof and interior engulfed by flames, St. Boniface Cathedral, July 22, 1968

 

Legend has the phoenix rise from the ashes.  What rose amidst the charred walls and now empty interior of the cathedral is the sixth structure so named for St. Boniface.  Completed in 1971, the visionaries who conceived it incorporated large portions of the exterior walls and the surviving sacristy area into this gathering place of worship for the people and their bishop of the Archdiocese of St. Boniface.  The plaza leading up to the new cathedral is nestled amidst the walls.  The recast bells are hung upon the interior of the facade.  The remains of the deceased bishops and other clerics attached to the history are buried in what were the bell towers.  Let the pictures below tell the story.

Facade with glimpse of new Cathedral of St. Boniface

 

Looking toward entry of present Cathedral of St. Boniface through doors of previous Cathedral

 

Present Cathedral of St. Boniface, plaza and main entrance

 

Looking from the southwest, facade, Cathedral of St. Boniface

 

 

Present sanctuary of Cathedral of St. Boniface, incorporated into former apse wall

 

 

Rear of New / Old Cathedral of St,. Boniface

 

North view, Cathedral of St. Boniface

 

 

Entry to Cathedral of St., Boniface plaza under north tower

 

 

Framework and bells, interior of facade of Cathedral of St. Boniface

 

What of the interior of the 1971 cathedral?  Definitely (and purposefully, I was told) smaller than before; modern in its sweep (yes, a period piece from the 8th decade of the twentieth century); warm and inviting to one who would be in solitary prayer or gathered for Eucharist with bishop, priests, deacons and laity — the Church embodied and most itself in such a moment.

 

Interior, looking toward sanctuary, Cathedral of St. Boniface

 

Stained glass windows, Cathedral of St. Boniface, looking North

 

Stained glass windows, Cathedral of St. Boniface, looking South

 

Stained Glass, the Crowing with Thorns, Cathedral of St. Boniface

 

I would have taken more photos, but a confirmation class with their parents had arrived; they were waiting for Archbishop Albert.  One of his scheduled events of the day which he invited me to share, I eagerly anticipated his teaching these young folk (middle school) about cathedral, bishop and church!  The night before he had spoken enthusiastically of such moments and how he delights in this interaction and the students’ reactions! 

Well, we waited.  And waited.  An adult lay catechist, who works with Archbishop Albert for such events, did explain that he could well be detained.  We waited.  Then, the catechist’s cell phone chirped; it was he; he would be detained longer, but would meet the group at the Archbishop’s House.  The catechist, explaining to us the situation, proceeded to deliver a walk-around and very credible explanation of the life and history of the Archdiocese, how and whom it serves, and a few aspects of what an Archbishop does (leaving enough unsaid for the Archbishop across the way!)

By now, it was about noon.  Time for lunch!  I discreetly left the catechist, parents and students, returning to the Archbishop’s House.  Finding the dining room and a number of the residents already eating, I joined them for a warm and spirited conversation.

Knowing it could be awhile before Albert was free, I returned to my room to read.