I touched the Crown of Thorns
In 2012, I venerated the Crown of Thorns in Notre Dame Cathedral — a relic of the Passion of Jesus that has been kept in Paris since 1239. It was the most intense spiritual experience of my pilgrimage life. Here is what happened.
The most intense experience on pilgrimage was the first time I venerated the Crown of Thorns in Notre Dame Cathedral in 2012.
This holy relic of the passion of Jesus has been kept in Paris since 1239 when the good King Louis obtained it from the emperor in Constantinople (who had pawned it to a Venetian bank).
The reliquary (or container) for the Crown of Thorns is clear quartz crystal cut into the shape of a ring and decorated with gold and jewels. But the reliquary only contains the rushes. Unfortunately, over the centuries, the thorns were separated from the rushes and distributed all over Europe. There are thorns in many places – from the British Museum in London (which has one) to Oveido Cathedral in Spain (which has five).
On the first Friday of each month (and every Friday during Lent), there is a solemn service for veneration of the Crown of Thorns. Just like the medieval period, this involves the best “bells and smells” of the Catholic Church. The relic is introduced with a grand procession, some prayers are said, there is a bit of singing and then an opportunity to touch the relic. Most people kiss it and many also place their rosaries on it.
Digressing for a moment, it is helpful to be aware that in the Roman Catholic tradition, a relic of the first class is a part of the body of a saint or any of the objects used in the Crucifixion that carried the blood of Jesus. A relic of the second class is anything known to have been touched or used by a saint. A relic of the third class is a devotional object touched to a first-class relic. So placing my rosary on the relic of the Crown of Thorns made it a third class relic.
I have venerated the Crown of Thorns on three occasions. It is a humbling and beautiful experience. But that first time was extraordinary. There were thousands in the church for the ceremony and we sat in the front of the congregation. We waited over an hour for our turn to join the line which was very well managed by the Knights of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem. I used this hour to pray and to reflect on the life of Jesus. I also mused about what compelled me to seek out this unusual experience. And then it was time.
I had been experiencing a lot of anxiety about the ceremony. Principally, I was worried that I would be required to receive Holy Communion before kissing the thorns. And I knew I could not do this because I had not been to confession (for decades). As a precaution, I spent the morning confessing to a friend. While useful for my soul, this was neither necessary nor, for a Catholic, sufficient. But I learned on that first visit that anyone, regardless of religion, can venerate the Crown of Thorns. And that Holy Communion is not part of the service.
As the line progressed closer to the relic, the experience became hyper-real. I was having the experience but also watching it from above. I was praying earnestly to feel the energy of Jesus but I was also a little distracted. I wondered what they cleaned the reliquary with after each person kissed it… And I wondered what would happen if a nutter tried to harm the relic… I also wondered if I would have a choice of the holy nail, the piece of the true cross or the thorns.
I kissed the relic of the Crown of Thorns. Then I placed my rosary on it, followed by the handful of rosaries I was carrying for others. I prayed for the rosaries to absorb divine energy and for all who used them to feel this. Then I started to worry that I was being greedy; that I was having too much face time with the relic. But the tears streaming down my face assured the attendants of my sincerity and they did not rush me.
We sat in the second row to give thanks. And then I it happened. As I closed my eyes my body started trembling. My heart had never felt so full. Nor had I ever felt so much energy flowing through me. Quite frankly, I felt like I was sitting on a motorcycle travelling at 200 kilometres an hour. This was a deep and unexpected cleansing. Many tears of consolation and gratitude came with the realisation of profound grace. The experience was truly mystical. It was communion.
© Paul McCarthy & Iluminar.au
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