Price of the Cross

As the morning sun peeked through the window shades of the Lalande Suite, I woke up wrapped in my blanket without the foggiest idea where I was. Of course, two seconds later, I remembered it all: the nine-hour carpool from the seminary to Auriesville, NY, site of Our Lady of Martyrs Shrine, interrupted by DC traffic, a spur-of-the-moment stop at Mount St. Mary’s, and the occasional walkie-talkie bleep or bloop. The Martyrs Shrine stands on the former site of Ossernenon, the Native American village where Sts. Isaac Jogues, Rene Goupil, and John de Lalande met their martyrdom. Just ten years after their deaths, it became the birthplace of St. Kateri Tekakwitha, a seed of Christianity from the blood of the martyrs.

The day started with adoration at the Kateri Chapel, built at the top of a hill, and the whole hour I could not help but notice and meditate on the beautiful view down the slope. I only later learned that this was the Hill of Torture, the very same incline on which St. Isaac Jogues and his companions ran the Gauntlet, a dash through a tunnel of spectators trying to hit you with clubs.

Following Mass was a trip to the Shrine’s museum, where they explained the truly inspiring history of the martyrs through diary excerpts and Native American artifacts. After witnessing the murder of St. Rene Goupil, the first North American martyr, the fellow missionary St. Isaac Jogues escaped to France with much difficulty and several missing fingers, only to return with the teenage St. John de Lalande for the encore. Both became martyrs themselves. While these three faced quicker deaths at the ends of tomahawks, their Canadian companions faced death in extreme torture or bloody battles.

After getting some background information and a quick stop at the gift shop, I went down to the Ravine, the place of the unmarked grave of St. Rene Goupil. Signs along the pathway describe St. Isaac Jogues’ emotions as he witnessed the death of his dear friend and searched for the body. When he found and hid it, a storm forced him to search for it again, but this time to no avail. When he found the bones half a year later, he held a funeral and buried them. This whole process was done in secret to avoid his own execution.

Walking around the main grounds, I stumbled upon the devotion to the Seven Sorrows of Mary. This combined with the trials of the North American Martyrs gave me perspective, not only to their sacrifice, but to their desire to sacrifice. St. Isaac Jogues himself professed “I shall be happy if our Lord will complete the sacrifice where He has begun it, and make the little blood I have shed in that land the earnest of what I would give from every vein of my body and my heart.” When compared to the cross, all my problems seem like paper cuts. 

To close the day, we had adoration in the Coliseum, a massive round church with a high altar in the middle. On every pillar hung the cross and the name of Jesus. Statues of the eight North American Martyrs surrounded the altar beneath a massive crucifixion. Truly, this was the perfect way to end the day. 

The amount of bravery, trust, and love for the Lord it must take to be a martyr is truly mind-boggling. They very quickly became personal favorite saints, so I wanted a reminder of their passion. I was able to grab a few sticks from the Ravine, and our very own Brady was able to fashion them into a cross for me. It sits on my desk as I close this article, a constant reminder of their sacrifice, a constant inspiration for their devotion, and a constant testament to their glory.

Camden Short is a Propaedeutic Seminarian for the Diocese of Arlington