This past week was another interesting one of travel, this time through the Peach State.

I began in Blakley, a small town near the Alabama border in Southwest Georgia. I was there to meet with two sisters, who were serving alongside the Glenmary Missioners. As readers of the book will recognize, I encountered the Glenmarians while on the road, which has developed into a nice relationship. I will be writing about the two Franciscan Sisters of Saint Anne for the Glenmary Challenge magazine, my first writing assignment since wrappin up the trip. Sisters Ancilla and Sister Imelda were an inspiration, and not just to me. A young lady from the mission was also there, wearing a veil she’s taken to since shortly after the sisters’ arrival. I sense a nice vocation story in the works.

The following day, before my regular job took me away, I attended a daily Mass at St. Mary Magadelene, where I had a lovely conversation with a parishioner. Then I capped it off by visiting my first Trappist monastery, the Monastery of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, Ga.

When I got home after a day spent at the National Eucharistic Congress last week, it dawned on me this was the second time I had attended Mass in Indianapolis. The two experiences could not have been more different.

This past week, I was joined by at least 20,000 other Catholics celebrating joyously in the makeshift worship space of Lucas Oil Stadium. The giant arena was transformed into a fitting place to praise God.

The Mass was led by Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York, backed by several dozen other bishops and archbishops. Below, more than a hundred priests were on hand to dispense the Eucharist throughout the stadium, while men and women religious and seminarians sat behind them. The entire thing was a sight unlike any other.

But as I reflected, I recalled the previous time I worshiped in the Capital City. It was almost three years earlier, in the tiny non-denominational chapel at Methodist Hospital. Upstairs, my wonderful mother-in-law was living her final days, and I joined the sacristan as the sole parishioners taking part in the daily Mass that day.

Yet, whether surrounded by thousands of celebratory Catholics, or painfully praying for the soul of my beloved family member, in both places Jesus was present. In the Eucharist. As He is every time Mass is said, all over the world.

It is a comforting thought, and one that reminds us of the blessing available to us each and every day in our Church.

I was deeply saddened to learn today of the sudden passing of Father Norman Fischer of St. Peter Claver in Lexington, Ky. Father Norman invited me to visit the parish in 2022 to attend Mass with both the neighborhood parishioners as well as the Congolese Catholic Community.

I returned to St. Peter Claver this spring to see the new worship space, which Father Norman helped oversee.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.

May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

We move on to Strasbourg, the heart of Alsace. And the heart of Strasbourg is the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Strasbourg.

Though not as well-known as the other Notre Dame in France, the seat of the Archdiocese of Strasbourg is a marvel in its own right, one of the finest examples of Rayonnant Gothic architecture, if the kids at Wikipedia are correct. No less an expert than Victor Hugo described it as “a skillful combination of monumental size and delicateness.” 

Ground was broken on the cathedral in 1015, but it was only completed more than four hundred years later. It extends more than 460 feet above the city, which made it the world’s tallest building from 1647 to 1874.