Dear Diary,
It began raining during Holy Mass this morning, and by the time Father LeRoy gave the final blessing, the drops were pattering steadily against the church windows. Our meeting beneath the apple tree was plainly impossible, so everyone carried their books downstairs to the church basement.
It was not nearly as pretty as sitting outside, but it was warm and dry, and the sound of the rain above us made the basement feel rather peaceful. Mini settled beneath my chair and rested her chin upon her paws while Father asked me to read my chapter summary.
Today’s chapter told how the people of Lourdes had become deeply troubled by the continued silence of Bishop Laurence. The clergy still kept away from the Grotto and obeyed the Bishop’s orders not to take part in the growing movement.
The people could not understand it.
They had witnessed the spring flowing from the rock, heard of many wonderful cures, and seen the government begin to persecute those who visited Massabielle. Surely, they thought, the Bishop ought to speak. Some wanted him to defend the pilgrims, while others wished him at least to begin an investigation.
When the Prefect even claimed that he was acting in agreement with the Church authorities, Bishop Laurence still made no public reply. The people began to murmur that perhaps the Bishop was timid, indifferent, or unwilling to recognize what God was doing.
When I finished, Robert said, “It must have required great courage for the Bishop to remain silent when nearly everyone was demanding that he act.”
Sister Mary Claire nodded. “Sometimes silence appears to be weakness when it is really patience. A bishop must protect the faithful not only from unbelief, but also from accepting something before it has been properly examined.”
Father LeRoy said that Bishop Laurence was responsible before God for whatever judgment he made. “The people saw many convincing signs,” he explained, “but the Bishop had to determine whether those signs were truly supernatural. He could not allow enthusiasm, fear, or even persecution to make the decision for him.”
I said that I would have found it very difficult not to answer when people were accusing me of cowardice.
Father smiled and said, “That is often the hardest kind of courage, Kathy—to wait quietly while others misunderstand you.”
Then Robert uncovered the morning’s refreshments: fried-egg sandwiches with mayonnaise and pickles. They were still a little warm and smelled delicious. The eggs were folded neatly between thick slices of bread, though the pickles made some of the sandwiches rather slippery.
“An excellent choice, Robert,” Father declared after his first bite.
Everyone agreed. They were easily enough to hold us until lunchtime.
Sister Mary Claire looked at the size of her sandwich and said, “I believe this has already replaced lunch.”
Robert said that had not been his intention, but he did not appear very sorry about it.
Mini watched every bite with great attention. Robert finally gave her a small corner of plain egg and bread, without mayonnaise or pickles, which she accepted as though it were the finest meal ever served in a church basement.
Before we left, Father asked me to read our prayer.
Dear Blessed Mother, help us to trust the wisdom of those whom God has appointed to guide His Church. When we do not understand their silence or their decisions, keep us patient, humble, and charitable. Teach us never to mistake haste for courage, nor careful judgment for weakness. Amen.
Father LeRoy blessed us and reminded us that true prudence is not fear, but the courage to wait for God’s proper time.
When we climbed the basement stairs, the rain was still falling gently. I kept thinking about Bishop Laurence. Everyone wanted him to hurry, yet perhaps God was teaching him to stand still.
Good night, dear Diary.
Kathy
It began raining during Holy Mass this morning, and by the time Father LeRoy gave the final blessing, the drops were pattering steadily against the church windows. Our meeting beneath the apple tree was plainly impossible, so everyone carried their books downstairs to the church basement.
It was not nearly as pretty as sitting outside, but it was warm and dry, and the sound of the rain above us made the basement feel rather peaceful. Mini settled beneath my chair and rested her chin upon her paws while Father asked me to read my chapter summary.
Today’s chapter told how the people of Lourdes had become deeply troubled by the continued silence of Bishop Laurence. The clergy still kept away from the Grotto and obeyed the Bishop’s orders not to take part in the growing movement.
The people could not understand it.
They had witnessed the spring flowing from the rock, heard of many wonderful cures, and seen the government begin to persecute those who visited Massabielle. Surely, they thought, the Bishop ought to speak. Some wanted him to defend the pilgrims, while others wished him at least to begin an investigation.
When the Prefect even claimed that he was acting in agreement with the Church authorities, Bishop Laurence still made no public reply. The people began to murmur that perhaps the Bishop was timid, indifferent, or unwilling to recognize what God was doing.
When I finished, Robert said, “It must have required great courage for the Bishop to remain silent when nearly everyone was demanding that he act.”
Sister Mary Claire nodded. “Sometimes silence appears to be weakness when it is really patience. A bishop must protect the faithful not only from unbelief, but also from accepting something before it has been properly examined.”
Father LeRoy said that Bishop Laurence was responsible before God for whatever judgment he made. “The people saw many convincing signs,” he explained, “but the Bishop had to determine whether those signs were truly supernatural. He could not allow enthusiasm, fear, or even persecution to make the decision for him.”
I said that I would have found it very difficult not to answer when people were accusing me of cowardice.
Father smiled and said, “That is often the hardest kind of courage, Kathy—to wait quietly while others misunderstand you.”
Then Robert uncovered the morning’s refreshments: fried-egg sandwiches with mayonnaise and pickles. They were still a little warm and smelled delicious. The eggs were folded neatly between thick slices of bread, though the pickles made some of the sandwiches rather slippery.
“An excellent choice, Robert,” Father declared after his first bite.
Everyone agreed. They were easily enough to hold us until lunchtime.
Sister Mary Claire looked at the size of her sandwich and said, “I believe this has already replaced lunch.”
Robert said that had not been his intention, but he did not appear very sorry about it.
Mini watched every bite with great attention. Robert finally gave her a small corner of plain egg and bread, without mayonnaise or pickles, which she accepted as though it were the finest meal ever served in a church basement.
Before we left, Father asked me to read our prayer.
Dear Blessed Mother, help us to trust the wisdom of those whom God has appointed to guide His Church. When we do not understand their silence or their decisions, keep us patient, humble, and charitable. Teach us never to mistake haste for courage, nor careful judgment for weakness. Amen.
Father LeRoy blessed us and reminded us that true prudence is not fear, but the courage to wait for God’s proper time.
When we climbed the basement stairs, the rain was still falling gently. I kept thinking about Bishop Laurence. Everyone wanted him to hurry, yet perhaps God was teaching him to stand still.
Good night, dear Diary.
Kathy
