October 7, 2015
Before dawn on that fateful morning, the priests and oblate brothers of the Institute living next door woke up to the smell of smoke. The Shrine of Christ the King was burning. They quickly evacuated their home and watched as 150 firemen fought the uncontrollable blaze for the next five hours. The flames engulfed the church and utterly consumed the roof, causing everything within its walls to be burned or crushed by the falling metal and debris. The walls and tower, however, remained firmly in place.
With the fire finally at bay, one of the firemen respectfully asked the Shine’s rector and superior if there was anything he would like to see if his men could bring out of the ruins. The priest replied with a simple request. “Please,” he said, “bring us out the Tabernacle with the Most Blessed Sacrament”. He then added, “Please rescue the statue of the Holy Infant King”.
Unsure what to find amidst the rubble, but unwilling to dissuade the priest’s request, five firemen entered the smoldering remains determined to find the gilded Tabernacle containing the Holy Eucharist and a 17th century, wooden statue of the Child Jesus, the Infant King.
The firemen made their way from the very back of the church through the treacherous swamp of muddy ash, broken pews and roof debris almost a half a football field long to arrive finally in the sanctuary, where to their disbelief, they found the Tabernacle unharmed and the 17th century, wooden statue of the Holy Infant King there in its place, standing above the Tabernacle. The Infant King’s right hand was still raised in blessing, His crown still firmly on His head, and the Child seamed even to smile slightly through the soot that covered His cheeks.
Despite the roof having collapsed all around the altar and the heat of the fire having been so extreme as to warp over the brass crucifix that stood just below the Infant King, the wooden statue was miraculously not destroyed. Having made it through the boggy maze, the firemen needed now to retrace their steps, but this time, with these fragile treasures in their arms.
The priests and oblate brothers awaited outside the church with the local media under the now blue skies of a beautiful October morning. They were joined now by the neighbors and faithful who had arrived for the regularly scheduled Mass at 8:00 am.
After what seemed like an eternity of uncertainty, four firemen emerged from the front doors of the church with the Tabernacle on their shoulders. Like a scene from the Old Testament, these brave men carried the Ark of the New Covenant out into the street, returning it and its sacred contents safely to the rector. The consecrated Hosts within its golden doors were unharmed and were consumed at Holy Communion later that day by those who attended Holy Mass in a neighboring chapel.
But what about the Holy Infant King? There was a brief delay after the four men emerged. Then, amidst the gasps of disbelief, the fifth fireman appeared from the front doors of the church with the wooden statue of the Holy Infant Jesus in his arms. No one could believe it; a 400-year-old wooden statue covered in cloth was neither consumed by the infernal heat of the fire nor destroyed by the thousands of gallons of water and as many tons of debris that hailed down around it on every side. Amidst the present sadness, there was an indescribable joy; in the wake of despair, there was a surreal sense of hope.
Upon closer examination of the Holy Infant Jesus statue, rescued from the ruins, there was but one thing missing from His beloved and familiar pose. His crown, though dirtied, was still upon His head, telling of His divine royalty. His right hand was still raised in blessing, showing the love and benevolence of His reign. The only thing missing from His left hand was the world.
In all depictions of Christ the Infant King, the globe, representing the universe, is carried in His left hand. He blesses the world, which He created and holds in the palm of His hand. Now, it was no longer there. It was as if someone had knocked it out of His hand to try and take it away from Him–away from His blessing, away from His grace. The globe was found amidst the rubble, and the priests of the Institute had it restored and replaced back in His left hand so that He may once again bless the creation He loves—so that He may bless us.
What of the fate of the church? Though the interior was utterly destroyed, the immovable walls were as Henry Schlacks had always described them, “in other words, indestructible”. The Shrine of Christ the King was like an analogy for the Universal Church in our time, and the Institute of Christ the King was willing to cooperate with God’s grace to help “rebuild His Church”.
Following several months of earnest deliberation with officials concerning the fate of this historic church once again in ruins, the Provincial Superior of the Institute of Christ the King remained adamant in his conviction: “We will rebuild the church”.
Finally, in February of 2016, the Archdiocese of Chicago deeded the property to the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest that they might have ownership of the church and rebuild it to be their Provincial Headquarters Shrine in the United States; the Resurrection from Ashes was about to begin.
