My pilgrimage to Beauraing was peaceful and uneventful. In the mornings I got up early and enjoyed the free breakfast in the hotel, coffee, bread, eggs, cucumbers, tomatoes, fruit, yogurt, common Central European faire. I walked down the hill to the Sanctuary and celebrated mass everyday. I visited the Sanctuary a few times a day. I prayed, listened to the wind, gazed at the hawthorn tree, and I said the rosary. I lit a few candles at the Sanctuary. I walked around the town and tried a couple of restaurants. But for the most part I stayed at the hotel. I rested, read, wrote, and attended to some online teaching and administrative work. The Wifi at the hotel was not the most reliable, but it worked fine most days and I got along. There was not a desk in my room, so I had to do much of my work sitting up in bed or in the lobby. I have fond memories of a ZOOM meeting in San Francisco. It was in the evening due to the time difference. There were no lights in the lobby, so I presided over the meeting in the dark with a spotty connection. It was a contentious meeting, and I had wonderful excuses for ignoring all the arguments. I was one of the only people staying at the hotel; I did not see many others. I spoke a few times with hotel staff, people working in the gift shop, restaurants, grocery store, but for the most part I kept to myself. I was alone. I should have been at least a little bored. But I must say I enjoyed myself.

I have developed rather severe tinnitus since my pilgrimage five years ago. As I recall the peaceful emptiness of my thoughts in Beauraing, I receive strange comfort. I must have experienced mild tinnitus in 2019. The condition tends to come on gradually, as it has with me, but I don’t remember it. Common truisms that people find God in silence, or that in silence we find peace, do not mean the same to me anymore. If silence is necessary for peace then I must conclude that I will never have peace, because I never have silence. The high pitched ringing is now loud and constant. The sound of the wind, talking out loud, listening to music, or other fuzzy noise are the only ways to blend the screeching into less distinguishable sound. Tinnitus is, of course, nothing compared to Joe’s infirmities and the illnesses and sufferings of countless others. I should be able to find peace, a kind of spiritual silence perhaps. I try to remember the peace of Beauraing and what it meant, or what it should mean for me.

Besides memories of silence and peace, I did come away with something else that I keep thinking about: I noticed an odd coincidence in Beauraing. I thought little of it when I first took note of it five years ago, but that quickly changed. The coincidence is related to what some critics and believers alike view as an ‘unsightly’ or ‘noisy’ dimension to the Site of the apparitions. Perhaps the noise of tinnitus is more generally relevant than I think. This will require digression and an imaginative trip to a bridge.