Last night I attended my last mass for this pilgrimage in Europe, again at Notre Dame. My sense was that the mass was largely attended by visitors and not regular attendees. On this journey I have heard mass in French, Polish, Basque, and Catalan. That is what has been available. Regardless of the language it is the encounter with Christ in the Eucharist that matter the most. Be the Church gorgeous (like Notre Dame or La Sagrada Familie) or simple (like Mauleon Licharre).
I think this realization underscored a point made in this morning's office that our journey is ultimately not in this world but through it to eternal life, where there will be a new heaven and a new earth and the Lord will wipe every tear away. So, while I travel by foot, train plane and car back to my home, I travel with a hope in one day joining the communion of Saints praising God in the heavenly homeland.
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