This reliquary contains the remains of Bd. Elizabeth of the Trinity. They are kept within the wall of the Lady Chapel in Église St-Michel, in the heart of Dijon, France. I have knelt here many a time.

Whither goest thou, Notre Dame?

Notre Dame in better days--cassocked priests holding rosary beads stand and kneel next to students at the campus grotto, publicly reciting the Rosary

My alma mater continues to embarrass itself. Back when Notre Dame University made the egregious decision not only to invite President Obama to give the commencement address, but also to award him with an honorary law degree (the law school itself had little say in the matter), it arrested 88 peaceful demonstrators who had walked onto campus reciting prayers and charged them with trespass. Although the university has dropped trespass charges in the past against pro-gay and anti-military protesters, it continues with the prosecution of the "ND 88," as they've come to be known. When pressed to justify their disparate treatment, Fr. Jenkins shut down any further discussion. It goes from bad to worse.

At football games, I've locked arms with fellow Domers and heartily sung the Notre Dame song along with the band. May Our Lady lead this school consecrated to her back to the way of truth, because at this point, She is the only one who can do it.

Notre Dame, our Mother
Tender, strong and true
Proudly in the heavens,
Gleams thy gold and blue.
Glory's mantle cloaks thee
Golden is thy fame,
And our hearts forever,
Praise thee, Notre Dame.
And our hearts forever,
Love thee, Notre Dame.

The Contradictions of Silence

By Noreen Mackey

My Beloved, the mountains, the solitary wooded valleys,
The strange islands, the sonorous rivers,
The whisper of the amorous breezes.

The tranquil night, at the time of the rising of the dawn,
The silent music, the sounding solitude, the supper that recreates and enkindles love.

--St John of the Cross

In the verses above, John of the Cross speaks – seemingly in contradiction – of a solitude that is full of echoes, of a music that cannot be heard. Silence is itself a contradiction. It is at once absence and presence; the path to a place, and the place itself. It is the absence of noise, but it is never empty. The strange fullness of silence alarms us, and it is because its fullness is at times so unbearable that we fill it with noise instead.

The eternal silence of these infinite spaces fills me with dread,

said Pascal. Yet it is in silence that we hear the things that really matter. Deep silence allows us to listen to our own heart, the place where God speaks to us, the place where God dwells.

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[W]e cannot comprehend the extent to which He loves us, above all when He sends us trials. --Bd. Elizabeth of the Trinity, 1906