A spot in upstate New York offers solace, courage, and inspiration.
‘W hen shall I begin to give myself entirely to Him, who has given Himself unreservedly to me?”
New York may not be your idea of a hotbed of holiness. But the prayer quoted above comes from Father Isaac Jogues, a Jesuit missionary who risked his life for love of God and neighbor — a neighbor who was nowhere near his native France and who tried to kill him. But for Jogues that wasn’t enough of a sacrifice. After recovering, he came back to New York en route to his eternal home. He was tomahawked to death in 1646.
Saints from the Empire State aren’t as rare as you might think. Right on Fifth Avenue, the bronze doors of St. Patrick’s Cathedral offer some historic reminders. Maybe the women are the most disarming, if you have some misconceptions about Christianity’s view of women. Mother Cabrini. Elizabeth Ann Seton. They led the way in building the network of charitable services for immigrants, especially. Orphanages, schools, and hospitals were once the domain of Catholic religious sisters. (It was harder for them to lose their identity in Christ when that was the case.)
Another woman, Kateri Tekakwitha, brings us closer to Jogues, who is also on Fifth with her. The Christian convert born in the Mohawk village of Ossernenon risked her life by seeking to live the Gospel. (Her father was a Mohawk chief and her mother a Christian Algonquin.) Jesuits would eventually take her north for safety. Her tomb is a 15-minute-or-so ride from the Montreal airport, but her birthplace is where Jogues and two other Jesuits were murdered. Now that land is the site of the newest national shrine for pilgrims in search of peace, longing for something more.
Full disclosure: I’m on the board of Our Lady of the Martyrs Shrine, also known as the National Shrine of the North American Martyrs. I was asked to join because I’ve long had an affinity for the place. My parents took us there one Easter break, and it has held a treasured place in my heart since. Why can a site of martyrdom make such an impact? Because of the heart of these men and women, given over to God, more and more daily. Another New Yorker, Father Donald Haggerty, currently assigned to St. Patrick’s, writes about this in his book Conversion.
No offense to those who live in Auriesville, N.Y., or nearby Amsterdam (where the closest shed of an Amtrak stop is), but the new national shrine is in the middle of nowhere — that’s definitely the impression one would have if one came from downstate, also known as “civilization” by us chauvinists. Which is a blessing. About 40 minutes from Albany and a threeish-hour drive from Manhattan, the shrine offers an opportunity for solace, for a break from the chaos of life. (My childhood trip had also included the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, which likely is considered another kind of pilgrimage experience by many.)
The news of the national shrine’s designation coincided with news involving the U.S. bishops. There’s the back and forth over the Trump administration’s immigration policy plans. And gratitude for the White House’s pardons of those who had been imprisoned for their peaceful civil disobedience outside abortion clinics. My friends Joan Andrews Bell and Father Fidelis Moscinski were among them. There’s a real danger, as usual, that criticism and praise will fall along ideological lines. How will we better inform our consciences — in private and public life, when it comes to daily decisions in families, in the office, in church life, and in matters that affect entire populations?
The vice president is a smart, articulate Millennial husband and father, and a fairly recent convert to Catholicism. He has communicated some basic principles of prudence and even subsidiarity. He has also shot at the U.S. Catholic bishops for using government funding to work with immigrants and refugees. The whole issue should give church bureaucrats and politicians reason to pause. Archbishop José Gómez in Los Angeles once gave tribute to New Yorker Dorothy Day. “I don’t know if she is a saint,” he said, admitting that it was above his pay grade to make such a call, “but she makes me want to be one.” The Jesuit martyrs and Saint Kateri were not only religious believers but also historic figures who helped make the U.S. who she is. Getting to know them can help us stretch our hearts to do more than weigh in on some of the debates of the hour, and to seek to pour out ourselves more for God and neighbor.
Saints and martyrs keep us humble and help us grow in courage. “My hope is in God, who needs not us to accomplish His designs,” Father Jogues wrote. “We must endeavor to be faithful to Him and not spoil His work by our shortcomings. I trust you will obtain me this favor of our Lord, that, having led so wretched a life till now, I may at last begin to serve Him better.” For the religious believer, life is about ever-deeper conversion. Belief is not a one-off. So it’s not unusual for Jogues to have expressed what a terrible sinner he was, despite his amazing selflessness and generosity — his radical love for God and for men who didn’t know how to simply receive it.
I’d love to see JD Vance visit Auriesville as a prayerful pilgrim. He could be set up with an expert tour with archivist Beth Lynch. We can make sure there’s a priest there for any sacramental graces he seeks. But most important of all, I’d pray that people leave him alone, so he can ask the martyrs for a little bit of their humility, love, and courage. The man might be president one day, but the race that is most important is the eternal one. Some New Yorkers had the right idea and can help us along the way.
I hope to see you in Auriesville this spring, summer, or fall. (It’s too expensive to keep the temperature bearable in the winter.) We can also visit the Auriesville of our hearts, where God’s grace, with the inspiration of some of those who have come before, can help us reprioritize our lives — and, yes, our politics.
This column is based on one available through Andrews McMeel Universal’s Newspaper Enterprise Association.