We were going and then we weren’t. And then we were again.

Countless times, I went back and forth on the Notre Dame Eucharistic procession on Sunday. When this year’s edition first seeped into my consciousness, I was certain that we would make it, then – maybe not. It would take us away from the house for much of the five hours Michael would be home between flights (in from CA out to FL), and then dama practice seemed to in motion for the afternoon. Ah, but then dama practice was cancelled for some reason and Michael reported that he’d slept for about 90 minutes total on the red-eye flights from the Wild West, and might be…tired.

Ah, so – why not? We’ve not had an outing in quite a while, what with speech and debate, drama and the weather. So we set off (after 9:15 Mass here, and seeing Michael for about 30 minutes before he headed upstairs), Katie, I imagine, wishing that she’d kept that "No dama practice" to herself until, say..the last minute.

I always underestimate the time it takes to get to South Bend from here. I always think "90 minutes", forgetting the 20 minutes it takes to actually get out of this town and the 15 minutes it takes to actually reach Notre Dame once you hit South Bend. (Insert rant about how the town fathers and mothers of Fort Wayne and Northeast Indiana have made it very difficult to actually get anywhere from this place. Highest airfares of any area airport, and no direct routes to any major city you might like to visit, except Indianapolis, and even that takes an unnecessary eastward jolt to get close to Muncie. Their city father and mothers knew that there was nothing to be afraid of in letting people come and go freely. I’ve always wondered if there was some sort of Amish dust sprinkled over the place at some point.)

But even though I panicked a bit, we got there in plenty of time. Parked in the first lot from which I could clearly see the Golden Dome – a student lot, I think. Would I get towed? Well, not this time, I didn’t. Who knows if they check on weekends anyway. Our rushed forced march took us around St. Mary’s Lake, past the scores of sunning and running students and many ducks.

Mass hadn’t even ended by the time we arrived, and so we waited, watching the servers tend to the canopy, the Knights, who it had been promised, would be providing lunch afterwards, come in with their swords – always a big attraction with our group. As Bishop D’Arcy emerged with the monstrance, silence fell and was maintained for the short walk to the First Station, the statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Michael was already responding to our attempts to hold his hand by swinging and dragging on the ground, so things were really looking promising.

The crowd was large  – around 600 commentor(and ND Law School grad!)  Becky says. It was a mix – hard to say, but I’d say half students and half faculty/families/community/religious. There was a large group of a few dozen male and female religious, along with the students who would be doing the readings, who led the procession. I don’t know what orders were represented, but there were many young faces and a few novices/postulants evident.

There were four stations on the procession route, which took us from the front of the Basilica, down the…what do they call it? Quad? Green? – to the end, where the law school is, and then back up. The stations were in front of statues – the Sacred Heart, the  Blessed Virgin, Fr. Sorin – and then finally, in front of the "Main Building." At each station a group of musicians greeted the processions – the Notre Dame Celebration Choir (I didn’t hear what they sang – I was dragging Michael and chatting a bit  – trying to stay appropriate – with Becky), the Hispanic El Coro Primavera, the Four:7 Catholic Fellowship Band, and at the end, the Liturgical Choir. They all did great jobs, just right for this outdoor, para-liturgical, community-based event.

At each station, the Eucharist was placed on an altar, a Scripture passage was read, and then a passage from either Venerable Bali Moreau or Fr. Sorin. A sample, from the former:

It is at this altar that, in order to consle the sufferings of our exile, He offers us a manna more appealing than that of the desert; there that He gives us his flesh to eat and his blood to drink; there that he becomes present in such a way within our soul, His heart speaking to us with all of its affection and brnging our own hearts to beat with His.

In between as we processed, we chanted litanies – of the Sacred Heart, of the Blessed Virgin, of the Saints. We closed, as you can see in the photos below, in front of the Main Building, praying the Our Father, Tantum Ergo, the Divine Praises, and the "Hymn to Our Lady," which I guess is sort of an alma mater song?

Notre Dame, Our Mother, tender, strong and true, / Proudly in the heavens gleam thy gold and blue./Glory’s mantle cloaks thee, golden is thy fame./And our hearts forever praise thee Notre Dame./And our hearts forever love thee Notre Dame.

So. And how did we deal? Joseph did fine, with minor discomforts. Michael was a handful. He is such a little monkey, though – Mr. Imitation. As we were processing, he eventually decided that since no one else was holding hands, neither would he, and so, with his hands by his side, in his little woven shirt, khaki pants and loafers, he marched along like the big people. Well, sort of like the big people, since the big people were mostly walking in a straight line and did not have either their mother or sister’s finger gently hooked on their shirt collars. But close.

Not having napped in the car on the way up, his level of cooperation was diminished, especially when it came to volume. He doesn’t yell much in church anymore, but this was outside, and of course outside is for yelling. At the third station, he decided he was thirsty and started announcing it, loudly. "I wan’ water! Water!"

After he made his third declaration, the Scripture reading started.

Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again….

I swear.

At that point, I whispered to Katie, "Stay here!" and made a subtle, but mad rush to the Morris Inn, which was just a short walk away, found a drink machine, and bought a water bottle. I should have bought two, since MIchael immediately claimed it as "my water" and forgot whatever lessons he’s ever had in sharing in his short life.

There were several other families, though, and other occasional squawks could be heard in the midst of the litanies. So we were not alone. Which, of course, is the whole point of a Eucharistic Procession – is it not?

As I mentioned, the Knights provided lunch afterwards – it was steak sandwiches – not something that appealed to anyone in our group – so I just grabbed a couple of drinks and we wandered back to the Basilica, past older couples seated on the ground, enjoying theirs.  Joseph was entranced with the holy water font, and Katie with a young couple being led through the paces by, I assume, the Basilica’s wedding coordinator. Over to the side, another young couple managed three young children, including a white-clad baby who seemed to be bearing a suspicisous baptismal glow, although I can’t swear to it. Then to the grotto, where the intention was to light candles, although I’m not sure any were actually lit. As I was struggling with Michael, who’d grabbed the shortest lighting stick available and was trying to set himself on fire, Joseph, ignoring my command to "wait" was already busy, with the flame on his lighting stick threatening his knuckles before I could rescue him.

Candles or no, prayers were said at the rail. We walked back to the car, observing ducks and swans, seeing a mud volleyball game (benefitting Habitat for Humanity) in the distance, and stopping to watch a young man, already coated in mud, wading deep into the lake to retrieve a basketball. "My basketball!" yelled (of course) Michael.

It was a good day, good to be on the Notre Dame campus seeing such a display of prayer, chanting litanies, praying (as best I could) for the intentions of the day – respect for life, vocations, and blessings on Holy Cross, St. Mary’s and Notre Dame.

But next time – bring water. Even if it only quenches for a bit. That’ll work.