Quiet Day

Today was a fairly quiet day. It was nice! We were preparing for a pilgrimage tomorrow to Jean Claude Colin's birthday place -- Les Barbery. We'll also visit St. Bonnet Le Troncy which is where Colin grew up after his parents died when he was 4 years old. (Try to pronounce the name of that French town, Rocky!)

We spent some time this morning sharing insights into Jean Claude. I think he was definitely a product of his time. His parents were not exactly enamored with the French Revolution, and they found the courage to help local clergy who would not sign the constitutional oath. So, in some sense, his most formative years were stamped by experiencing courageous parents. Yet, at the same time, his father was eventually forced to hide out in the forest to avoid the authorities.

So, Jean Claude's most formative years were marked also by fear. My guess is this is where -- 'hidden and unknown' as a Marist charism was born. Working quietly, behind the scenes, and very much among the people is, as you guys know (I hope) something that we Marists truly aspire to.

Tomorrow's pilgrimage will bookend his life. We'll begin from La Neyliere which is where Jean Claude spent his later years. As I said in an earlier post, this is where he wrote our RULE. His room is still preserved as it was when he died. It's a wonderful place to see and be. I spent some time tonight sitting on the floor in his room praying for vocations. So, my friends some of you will have to step up to the plate! For the men -- there's the Fathers and Brothers, and the Marist Brothers. For the women -- there's the Marist Sisters and Marist Missionary Sisters.

I'll leave you with that thought and move on to some pictures.


I'm standing by a cabinet in Colin's sitting room. You can see his picture in the background. I'm fairly certain it wasn't there when he was alive.





This picture is for Fr. Ron's friends in West Virginia. He's wearing Fr. Colin's hat, but I think he was really looking around for a baseball cap. He had no luck.





Here I'm standing next to Fr. Colin's desk. I'm pointing to a map of the Islands of Oceania. Apparently, Colin always had this map before him -- to remember his brother missionaries. No doubt, he was filled with pride for what they were doing, but also felt a weighty responsibility for their well being.





Finally, a picture of Fr. Bruce sitting next to Fr. Colin's bed. He actually died in this bed (Fr. Colin -- not Fr. Bruce).