Denver Seminarians and Priest Walk in the European Footsteps of Early Denver Bishops
- Guest Contributor
- 4 minutes ago
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On pilgrimage in France, two seminarians and a priest got to know the archdiocese’s earliest shepherds on their home turf.
By Carl Berner
Seminarian Archdiocese of Denver
Every priest and seminarian has a “vocation story,” a record of God’s providence over his Church; it tells of how God has set countless people and circumstances in their proper place so that a man might hear the call to give his life to the Church. In a vocation story, we discover how connected we all are, how the encouragement of a parishioner or the faithful witness of a priest to a young man can have reverberating effects unto eternity.
A vocation story is followed by a story of priestly ministry: generating God’s spiritual children, feeding them with Christ, reconciling them with their Father, counseling and accompanying them through every stage of their lives. For Joseph Projectus Machebeuf and Nicholas Chrysostom Matz, their ministry story included shepherding the Catholics of Colorado as the first two bishops of Denver.
So, Luke Metzer, Father Trevor Lontine and I thought it would be interesting to learn their vocation stories. And so our pilgrimage began!
(Photos provided)
Bishop Joseph Projectus Machebeuf
Joseph Machebeuf was born August 11, 1812, in Riom, Auvergne, France. He grew up in a small town called Volvic, about six kilometers outside of Riom. His vocation was inspired by the witness of his parents and of the Christian Brothers who educated him. Also of note was Abbé Dallein, pastor of St. Amable Church in Riom, who was a close friend of his parents. The good pastor was young Joseph’s spiritual counselor and encouraged him in his vocation. As soon as he could, Machebeuf entered the Grand Seminary of Montferrand. He was ordained a priest on December 21, 1837, by Msgr. Feron, the Bishop of Clermont. In September of the following year, he made a retreat that changed his life, during which he offered himself to God completely. He soon signed up to serve as a missionary in Cincinnati, Ohio. He left France on July 9, 1839. He was appointed to northern Ohio, where he served for a time, before leaving to join Father Jean-Baptiste Lamy in New Mexico in 1851. Finally, in 1860, he was sent to Colorado to serve the mining communities there. On August 16, 1868, he was consecrated the first bishop of Denver.
Luke, Father Trevor and I decided we wanted to visit Joseph Machebeuf’s home parish in Riom. Not knowing what to expect, we found St. Amable in good condition, much as it would have looked in the early 1800s. To our surprise, we found a plaque inside the Church dedicated in his memory. It was sent to the church by the parishioners of Holy Angels in Sandusky, Ohio, a parish Father Machebeuf built before moving further west. It was interesting to see the architecture, art and devotions that would have been at the foundation of Bishop Machebeuf’s Catholic formation. The Church is dedicated to “St. Amabilis,” the holy pastor of Riom from the fifth century. In Machebeuf’s youth, there would have been a great procession with the saint’s relics through the town each year on his feast day.
(Photos provided)
Bishop Nicholas Chrysostom Matz
Nicholas Chrysostom Matz, our second bishop, was likewise born in what is modern-day France. He was born April 6, 1850, in the town of Munster in the Moselle region, which has a long history of German and French heritage. Perhaps due to the growing political conflict between France and Prussia, the Matz family immigrated to Cincinnati, Ohio, in 1868. It was there that Nicholas Matz went to seminary and was ordained a priest. When Bishop Machebeuf returned to Cincinnati to recruit priests for the wild west, Matz was the only one to come with him. In 1889, he was ordained the second bishop of Denver.
Nicholas Matz’s parish Church, the Collegial Church of St Nicholas of Munster, is a French Gothic gem from the 13th-14th century. It is a “collegial” church because it housed a chapter of “canons” who lived and prayed there. When Bishop Matz was looking for a design for the Cathedral of the diocese of Denver, he chose to design it after his parish church from back home. The resemblance between the two churches is obvious, though the Cathedral Basilica of Denver is significantly larger. What stands out most are its stained-glass windows, which far surpass those of the Munster original. But visiting the Collegial Church of St. Nicholas did feel like a taste of home in the middle of central Europe. It was like visiting the parents — or grandparents — of your fiancé. This church was the origin of the Cathedral of our archdiocese, to which we promise to be faithful forever.
A brochure I found in the church recounts the legendary story of the church’s founding. Earl Guillaume of Torcheville was fleeing in the middle of the night from his castle, which was under siege by the Counts of Dabo and Rechicourt. He got lost, found himself in a marshy pond, and his horse got stuck in the mud until he himself was caught in the muck. As he began to sink, he made a vow that, if he survived, he would build a church in honor of St. Nicholas. At that very moment, his dog jumped into the water, bit onto his clothes and dragged him to safety. Earl Guillaume kept his promise. His 13th-century tombstone is still preserved, where you can see him lying at rest beside his wife, with their trusty dog at their feet.
There was another interesting gravestone in the church honoring Father Nicolaus Koenig, the pastor from 1858 to 1891. This must have been the priest who inspired young Nicholas Matz’s vocation. He endured difficult years in Munster, as French and German militaries struggled for dominance over the Moselle region.
When we arrived in the tiny town of Munster (not even a single stop sign), we were unsure whether the church would even be open. It felt like a miracle when it was! There were newspaper articles about Bishop Matz and the Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception still posted on their bulletin board. We were determined to have Mass inside. Across from the church, a woman walked out of her house, and we saw our opportunity. We approached her and used Google Translate to ask if there was a sacristan around. She pointed to her next-door neighbor. We knocked on the door and met the sacristan, who let us into the sacristy and helped us set up for Mass. He let us use a chalice that seemed to have been in use long before Nicholas Matz.
(Photos provided)
A Pilgrimage of Holy Surprises
God surprised us with these visits. Unsure of what we would find, we discovered that the parish communities of St. Amable in Riom and St. Nicholas of Munster are proud of their sons who became priests and bishops in America. Denver, Colorado, is part of their story, just as Riom and Munster are part of ours.
The pilgrimage helped me understand that no particular church exists in a vacuum. The connections among the body of Christ, physical and spiritual, are like an intricate spider web. Ultimately, the Archdiocese of Denver has roots that reach back to central Europe. The vocation stories of Bishops Machebeuf and Matz are connected to the priestly witness of Father Dallein and Father Koenig, who offered them strong examples of priestly service. Their Catholic imagination owes its formation to French Gothic architecture, the benefits of which we still enjoy whenever we visit our archdiocesan mother church.
What was particularly special was the timing of it all. Two days before our departure for France, Bishop James Golka was named the sixth Archbishop of Denver. Praying for our new shepherd in the places that nourished our first two bishops was a formative experience.
As a priest, I hope I can communicate to the people of God the fundamental truth that we are not alone. We are surrounded by “so great a cloud of witnesses;” we are united to brothers and sisters throughout the world; we have older siblings in Heaven already interceding for us from eternal bliss. Being Catholic brings us into a family story that extends far beyond the limits of our own country or our own memory. May we come to realize how much gratitude we owe to God, who has so marvelously ordered all things in his providence to make the Archdiocese of Denver what it is today.
