Paris, 1830: Mary and Her Miraculous Medal

Paris is called the City of Lights. It is also called Sin City. It is one of the most sophisticated cities in the world. Among the more fashionable districts or is the Rive Gauche, or Left Bank. It has long been a haven for artists, attempting to capture on canvas the magnificence of the Cathedral dedicated to the most elegant lady in Paris, or the world for that matter, Notre Dame de Paris, Our Lady, my Mary. Boulevard St. Germain boasts avant-garde boutiques, cafes and restaurants. At the intersection of Boulevard St. Germain and Boulevard Raspail is a giant department store with many annexes. It is called Bon Marche, or Good Deal.

Sandwiched in between two of the annexes of this mammoth store on a side street, is a small courtyard, at the end of which is a chapel. From the street, all that can be seen is the address, 140 Rue du Bac, and a little plaque, hardly noticeable to the bustling shoppers trying to avoid the cars that race down the street at breakneck speed. The plaque shows both sides of the Miraculous Medal. The little sign underneath reads “La Chapelle de Medaille Miracleuse”. It’s not difficult to recognize those who know where they are, as opposed to those who do not. The worshipers wear an expression of awe on their faces as they enter these hallowed grounds.

Our Lady appears to Saint Catherine Laboure

The contrast from outside to inside is incredible. Outside is a jungle of humanity, embracing the world and all its trappings. Hawkers set up their tables in front of the store, promoting “Sale” items, merchandise without which the average housewife cannot possibly live. But as you walk through the portals of this courtyard, you experience something that no one can live without. A peace and serenity blankets you. On the left wall as you walk down towards the chapel, reliefs of the life of St. Catherine Laboure and the miraculous gift given to her are shown. But you find yourself magnetically drawn to the end of the courtyard, because you know that’s where it all began, 150 years ago.

The area around Boulevard St. Germain looked much different in 1830, when Zoe Catherine Laboure entered the mother house of the Sisters of Charity. While it was still a part of the Left Bank, it was not as built up as it is today. Paris was in an uproar at the time. She had just come through one of the most devastating times in the history of France, the French Revolution. During this plague on humanity, the Church was one of the main targets for persecution. Churches were desecrated; sacrileges committed on their altars; in particular, Notre Dame of Paris. Priests and nuns were tortured, and exiled from the country at best, or killed at worst. The Revolution fell, as it had to, because it was so satanic. But the attitude of the government towards the Church remained.

It was followed by the reign of Napoleon Bonaparte. While he reopened the Churches, he also attacked the Church. He battled with Rome, was excommunicated, and put the Pope under arrest. After his reign ended in 1815, havoc broke out again in Paris; the Church had to go underground again, hiding out in the monasteries. By the year 1830, a new revolution was in the making. The Bourbon king, Charles X, made a frantic attempt to restore the power of the country to the throne as it had been before the Revolution. The people were not having any of it.

We know Our Dear Lady was upset about how her priests and nuns, as well as the laity were being treated. She had always been so loving to her children. It was she whom Jesus allowed to intercede on our behalf. We drove him beyond reconciliation, and yet, because of her, he allowed his arms to be held back. It did not seem that mankind was going to get any better. It was time for tribulation. But the Mother, the loving Mother, asked again for one more chance to reason with her children, and again, the gift was given by the Son to the Mother.