Most Reverend Jerome E. Listecki
Archbishop of Milwaukee
 

In the summer of 1981, I was privileged to participate in a cultural experience at the Institut Catholique de Paris in France. It introduced us to the language, history and art. We stayed at the institute (Carmelite Convent) in the same building that generated martyrs for the Catholic Church during the “reign of terror,” which produced attacks on the Church’s religious, priests and sisters, as well as the faithful laity. Imbedded in a cement step leading to the courtyard was the Latin inscription, “Hic ceciderunt” (Here they fell). I am sure no one anticipated the hateful attacks directed at the Church and Christ’s followers. These brave individuals would not deny their allegiance to Christ and His Church. It was an honor to be in the same building. It’s ironic that a city so dedicated to beauty could produce such vitriolic assaults.

When I live in a place and engage in studies, I usually read a work that depicts my surroundings. I had the pleasure of reading Will and Ariel Durant’s voluminous work “Caesar and Christ,” the History of Roman Civilization, while I studied in Rome, Italy. Ancient Rome came alive as I saw the Roman Forum, the Colosseum and market places through the eyes of the citizens of the Roman Empire. I remember riding my moped (motorbike) early one morning around the Colosseum (the red tint of the morning sun bathed the Colosseum). I thought to myself, “What is a kid from the South Side of Chicago doing here?” Imagine what the ancient Romans would have thought about a priest riding a motorbike.

When I was in studies in Paris (nice to name drop), I read a work by Ernest Hemingway titled “A Moveable Feast.” It was Hemingway’s reflection about his early years as a struggling writer in Paris, France. I was able to view many of the Parisian sites through Hemingway’s eyes. He describes one incident when he was having a cup of coffee at a sidewalk café. Everyone enjoys people watching, and the great writer was no exception. At a table not too far from where he was seated, a beautiful young woman took her seat. Hemingway realized that she was waiting for someone, so he didn’t approach her. But, it is obvious that he was drinking in her beauty. “I’ve seen your beauty and you belong to me now …” He never encountered her again, but forever she was etched into his memory.

There are many experiences in our lives that are etched into our memories. There are people whom we never actually meet, but whose experience we carry forever. When I was in Vienna, Austria (another name drop), I was at Konstad Park with three priest friends. It was summer, and they were playing Viennese waltzes. Everyone was drinking “rot wine.” A young girl, seemingly at that awkward 10 or 11 years of age, looked dreamingly at the couples who were gliding around the dance floor, thinking to herself that maybe someday that might be her.

Suddenly, a distinguished gentleman dressed in a three-piece suit, who was either her father or grandfather, bowed to the waist and offered her his hand to begin the dance. I watched as the girl looked at her partner with the eyes of admiration and gratitude. He was the most important man in her life, and he made her a princess in that one moment. As Hemingway would say, that dance belonged to me now.

There are many moments in our lives that are part of our experiences. We observe them, we hear them or we feel them, even though we may never acknowledge our encounters with those who generate them. God moves us through life, touching our spirits with an attraction to beauty, truth and goodness. Jesus Christ inspires us as the perfect example of how we LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

Note: This blog originally appeared as the September 20, 2017 "Love One Another" email sent to Catholics throughout the Archdiocese of Milwaukee by Archbishop Jerome E. Listecki. If you are interested in signing up for these email messages, please click here.