The Movie and the Cathedral

I had the honor of attending a Kansas City Film Festival showing of "When I Last Saw Jesse", a documentary entry about the disappearance of Jesse Ross on November 21, 2006, from the Sheraton Hotel in Chicago.  Jesse, and his brother Andy, had been students at O'Hara when I was the dean of students.  I remember Jesse as a bit of a quirky kid who was a solid student, a Boy Scout, a lover of music and some practical jokes.  He had close friends but he was not a member of the "popular crowd" and that suited him just fine.  A kid with red hair and freckles, his friends and family called him "Opie."  After graduation, Jesse attended UMKC.  There he joined the Model Union program, the organization that brought him to Chicago as a freshman in 2006.  And, in Chicago he simply vanished, disappearing after a late night session from the Sheraton Hotel.  The film featured interviews with Jesse's family and his OHS friend, Ralph Parker (who tragically died in a car accident in 2010).  Several former OHS teachers attended the screening as did Jesse's mom and dad and some family members, most of whom I did not recognize.  It was heartbreaking and sad and caused me to wonder anew, "what happened" and perhaps more importantly, "why did this happen?"  Jesse was clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time.  His parents have never recovered from their loss and the disappearance continues to haunt them and his family.  The great "why?" will always haunt me as well.  

And, then, yesterday, a Monday, I learned that the great cathedral of Notre Dame had burned.  Fortunately, it did not burn to the ground but the simple fact that something almost 1000 years old had burned, had been seriously and perhaps permanently damaged, rocked my world.  Cathedrals aren't meant to fall down; they were built to last, as a tribute to the God for whom they were built and for the people who did the building.  People don't last.  Relationships don't always last.  Most material things of this world do not last.  But, the Cathedral was something through which we could glimpse "forever".  It would always be there; I could visit it when I retired or when I had time or when I wanted to because it wasn't going anywhere.  And, suddenly, at the beginning of Holy Week, it's not gone, but it's definitely not whole either.  I'm not French and I've never visited Paris but somehow the loss of the Cathedral, like Jesse's loss all those years ago, makes me less certain of the world.  I who am always optimistic and confident am suddenly less so and I don't like it.  I like my world being stable and predictable.  Of course, friends die and move and jobs and circumstances change but people don't disappear without a trace and cathedrals don't fall down.  Except they did.  And, I don't like it.