As I sat there saving seats for my co-worker and his wife on the opening day of the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis, the Lucas Oil Stadium filled with more and more people.
Why did I feel so lonely when I was surrounded by 50,000 Catholics? I think it’s because I wasn’t sure what to expect out of this week. No one was. The last time we had a Eucharistic Congress was 83 years ago. We were all going into the unknown. It was starting to feel like a pilgrimage – uncomfortable.
But then, as the evening began, the perpetual pilgrims who had been processing on four routes to Indianapolis – from the north, south, east and west – came into the stadium. What they had done on behalf of the church, bringing all of God’s people that they had met along the way with them into that moment, was incredible. There was an immediate standing ovation.
The pilgrims from the north, on a route named after St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, were among them. Just a month and a half earlier, they had stopped at the National Shrine of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton for a day of worship and pilgrimage that attracted more than 1,500 people. I call many of the permanent pilgrims on that route friends now, and here they were processing in and holding an image of our patron high. I knew while the image of Elizabeth was lifted for all to see, a first-class relic of Mother Seton was in a little black pyx bag, close to one of their hearts. She had walked with them for 65 days and now she was walking into this stadium with them. If that’s not the intercession of the saints personified, I don’t know what is. The saints walking with us, helping us to get to heaven, to become saints.
As glorious as this moment was, the completion of something so difficult and radical and inspiring as the National Eucharistic Pilgrimages, it was nothing compared to when Bishop Andrew H. Cozzens of Crookston, Minn., processed into that stadium with Our Lord in the Most Holy Eucharist. Fifty thousand people crammed in and kneeling in front of their stadium seats. And then we sat in silence with Jesus. They didn’t play triumphant music; they didn’t shine a camera or a light on anything other than him. Jesus came in, as he always does, in every parish church adoration, in every liturgy around the world: quiet, gentle, full of peace and inviting each of us in that room (and countless watching at home) to meet him in this moment.
This is where I realized a theme for me for the week. The saints are incredible, but they are nothing if they don’t lead us to a personal love with Jesus Christ.
Miracles Abound
I would talk with people about St. Elizabeth Ann Seton throughout the week, and there were many miracles I met and heard about.
“I was conceived after my mom went on pilgrimage to the Seton Shrine.”
“My aunt had cancer and she prayed to Mother Seton and it’s gone now.”
“We are still married thanks to her intercession.”
“My superiors gave me the religious name Seton. She is my patron.”
There were tears of joy when Father Roger Landry – the Seton Route’s chaplain and the only priest to travel the full length of any of the four routes – returned the relic to me, saying that it was so incredibly meaningful to have her with them throughout these days. As I shared the relic of Mother Seton with those around me, my fellow pilgrims, I could tell it meant so much to them. They touched their scapulars, their rosaries, their engagement and wedding rings to her and asked for her intercession. One woman even put her child’s hand on the relic and prayed aloud for Elizabeth to help make her daughter Maddie a saint – and on Maddie’s first birthday no less!
The eyes of the faithful would light up every time they touched the relic, but it was nothing compared to the light in their eyes when we would talk about Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. The Masses and times of adoration during this Congress provided true healing, consolation and most of all, relationship with Christ.
The saints are incredible, but they are nothing compared to Jesus in the most holy Eucharist.
Run to Jesus
Since leaving the Congress, I have been reflecting on this (and so much more that Jesus had to say to me). I think sometimes it’s easier to love a saint more than Jesus. I don’t think it’s intentional, but we find common ground with the saints. They come from our home countries. They had a similar life experience. They are one of us and that’s both powerful and comforting. They feel safe. We can cling to them and ask them to pray to Jesus for us, but it can sometimes be because we don’t think we are worthy to go to Jesus ourselves. He may challenge us, or worse, ask us to receive his love just where we are; somehow acknowledging that we can, at the same time, be both broken and infinitely loveable. How often do we run from that?
How can we become saints ourselves if we don’t run to Jesus? If we don’t have a relationship with Jesus? Many of you reading this do have a relationship with Jesus. But is it as full and as vibrant as it could be? Do we give him the quality time, the words of affirmation, and our gifts? Do we cultivate that relationship even when we are a mess? That is what made Elizabeth Ann Seton a saint. She wanted Jesus, she went to him with everything, a thousand times a day, and she told all those she encountered to also go to him. If we admire Elizabeth, then we have to follow her example.
I’ve known Elizabeth almost my whole life, but this year I’ve been able to dive into her spirituality in a new way – as a eucharistic woman. Reading her words as she chronicles her encounters with Jesus in the Eucharist have compelled me to look at the Sacred Host a little deeper. It was this host that made her drop to her knees as it passed by her window. It was Jesus that called her name in that moment, and she couldn’t help but respond. More than 6,000 people watched this dramatically portrayed in a new video produced by the Seton Shrine that played at a Congress break-out session on Saturday. As I stood in the back watching my fellow pilgrims pour into the room and encounter her story, I prayed for each of us, myself included, to have the grace to respond when Jesus calls our name. He is perpetually calling your name – wherever he is present in the most holy Eucharist.
St. Elizabeth Ann Seton is telling you to go to Jesus. She definitely is telling me to go to Jesus, every day, a thousand times a day, and to be mindful of anything that I am putting in front of my relationship with him.
Imagine if 50,000 Catholics went to Jesus like Elizabeth Ann Seton did. Imagine if 2 billion Catholics went to Jesus like she did. And not only went to him but responded to his unending love for us. How glorious. He is good, and he waits for you.
What are you waiting for?
Becca Corbell is the associate director of programs at the National Shrine of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton in Emmitsburg. She joined Rob Judge, executive director of the National Shrine of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton at the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis, July 17-21.
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