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After a long day's journey a new day dawns
BY FATHER VINCENT TRAVERS, O.P.

Father Vincent Travers, O.P., on assignment to the Diocese of Whitehorse, Yukon, with the now deceased diocesan mascot, Celty.

‘There is a natural quality in the Yukon wilderness that has the power to restore and redeem the spirit. One moment you are in time; the next, you are in timelessness.’

Dominican Father Vincent Travers, on loan from the Diocese of Dublin, celebrated his 50 years as a priest on the weekend of July 16, 2010, while on assignment in the Yukon. He has helped Bishop Gary Gordon of the Diocese of Whitehorse for a few months each over the previous two summers. He writes: “It was a usual Yukon weekend, and yet being the day it was, it was a special day.” Following is his account of that day.

On the weekend of July 16, 2010, I woke up in the early hours of the morning, in Porter Creek, a little village in the Yukon forest (in fact, the whole Yukon is one vast forest) on the outskirts of Whitehorse. The wilderness is only five minutes at most from any front door. It was already daylight. I was in the land of the midnight sun. It was too soon to get up, and as I lay in bed, I was aware that this was day of the golden jubilee of my ordination to the priesthood.

My mind travelled back to Clonliffe College, Dublin, where I was ordained in 1961, travelled back to a little incident that took place while I was blessing family and friends in the college grounds, immediately after the ordination. I only heard about the incident many years later. I was in Galway for a funeral at the Claddagh. I met Father Eustace Hayden in the sacristy before the Mass. He was my mentor when I decided to enter the Dominican Order. We got talking and during that conversation, he told me that during the blessings, my youngest sister, Claire, ten years old, came to him and said, “Father Hayden I never thought I would live to see this day!”

Well, that was my thought as I lay in bed, fifty years later. I never thought I would live to see this day.

I visited three mission stations on the jubilee weekend in the Yukon North West, bordering Alaska— Haines Junction, Burwash Landing, and Beaver Creek.

I knew from experience that I was facing a long day’s journey to my final destination.

A river runs through in the Yukon wilderness, in the Diocese of Whitehorse.

Distances in the Yukon are measured not in miles or kilometres, but in hours or days. I left Whitehorse at the crack of dawn under clear blue skies and bright sunshine in my four-by-four pick-up truck. Once the journey began, I knew I was in for a scenic treat!  

There is a natural quality in the Yukon wilderness that has the power to restore and redeem the spirit. One moment you are in time; the next, you are in timelessness. Its splendour and majesty has never ceased to overwhelm me. It would take a writer more gifted than I am to find words to convey the terrifying majesty of the place.

The Alaska Highway in that area of the Yukon runs through a vast expanse of landscape that was shaped during the Ice Age. It took millions of years for this extraordinary landscape to reach its present shape and size. It has some of the highest and most awesome glaciers in the world. When you encounter the mountains and rivers and lakes that gather the Yukon together, you understand why Aboriginal people believed that God was present in our world from the beginning of time. I wanted the road to go on forever.

I made no mention of the jubilee at Haines or Burwash. I knew if I did, the community would make a fuss, and that was the last thing I wanted. After Mass, in both villages, we had coffee and cookies, laughter and hearty conversation. I eventually reached Beaver Creek in time for Mass at 8:15 p.m.

By then, I had a change of heart about the jubilee. I felt the need to say something about it to someone. So, at the end of the Mass, before the final prayer and blessing, I mentioned the anniversary briefly. The reaction of the small community took me by surprise. Straightaway, they grasped the significance of the day. Their faces lit up with surprise and delight, honoured, that they were the only people I had made part of the day. And then, quite spontaneously, in their own gracious way, they made a little fuss. With kind words and warm hugs, they affirmed the way of life I had chosen. I was invited to a small little restaurant across the road from the Church, to a simple meal of fried chicken and hash. I was deeply touched at the thoughtfulness that prompted this kind gesture, and it did wonders for me. It gave me the feeling that the fifty years was worth it!

Now based in Dublin, Father Vincent Travers, O.P., left the Yukon in 2010, when he was called back to Ireland by his provincial for a special assignment. He writes, “It ends next May (2012). Who knows, if I will be allowed to return to the Great North again?”

Reprinted with permission from Catholic Missions In Canada Magazine. (www.cmic.info).

© 2011 Catholic Missions In Canada Charitable BN # 119220531 RR0001