On Friday, for the first time since the devastating fire of April 2019, the bells of Notre-Dame de Paris rang out again. Their sound was not just an announcement of progress; it was a profound reminder of the human spirit’s enduring call to rebuild. For anyone who contemplates the transcendent, the bells of Notre-Dame toll not merely for a building restored but for the deeper reality they symbolize: the interplay between ruin and grace, and the hope of renewal.

Here in Maine, the story of Notre-Dame resonates with a chapter of our own history: the Great Fire of 1866 in Portland.

Sparked during Independence Day celebrations, the fire destroyed a third of the city, leaving devastation in its wake. Among the losses was the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, then still under construction. But from the ashes rose a city reborn. By 1869, the completed cathedral stood as a testament to resilience, creativity and faith. Like Notre-Dame, the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception became not just a house of worship but a tangible sign of something eternal: the human desire to create spaces where the divine meets the earthly.

The parallels between Paris and Portland highlight a truth that transcends time and place. Ruin is never the end of the story. The fire at Notre-Dame, like Portland’s Great Fire, tested not only the durability of buildings but also the will of the communities they served. And yet, both moments have been defined by the response – a profound call to restore not only what was lost but the deeper meaning those places represent.

For Catholics, the restoration of Notre-Dame is rich with spiritual meaning. The cathedral’s soaring spire, lost in flames, once pointed heavenward, drawing the eyes and hearts of onlookers to the transcendent. It was built as an offering to God, every detail imbued with theological significance. The work of restoring it is not merely about preserving cultural heritage; it is about renewing a sacred space, a place where heaven and earth meet, and where human creativity is offered back to its Creator.

The bells that rang Friday remind us that Notre-Dame’s restoration mirrors the work of grace. Grace takes what is broken – whether in a cathedral, a city, or a soul – and makes it new.

Notre-Dame, like Portland’s Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, invites us to reflect on the transcendent: on what connects us to the eternal, on what calls us to worship, and on how we approach the sacred in our lives. These buildings were not constructed as mere monuments to human achievement; they were created as spaces of encounter, where humanity reaches for something beyond itself.

The work of restoration also carries a deeply Catholic lesson: the importance of collaboration in the pursuit of the good. Neither Notre-Dame nor Portland’s cathedral could have been restored without the collective effort of countless individuals, from craftsmen and architects to donors and volunteers. This unity reflects the communal nature of faith, where no one stands alone. It is a reflection of the Church itself.

As the bells of Notre-Dame tolled, their sound carried far beyond Paris, calling all who heard them to consider the work of restoration in their own lives. For Catholics, that work begins with the recognition that we are all in need of renewal. For others, the bells may simply inspire awe or gratitude. But for everyone, they remind us of the enduring truth that what is sacred and beautiful must be preserved, not because it belongs to the past but because it points to what is eternal.

Maine’s history offers a similar reminder. After the Great Fire, Portland’s residents rebuilt their city not as a replica of what was lost but as something stronger and more enduring. The Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, with its stunning Gothic architecture, became a beacon of resilience and faith, much like Notre-Dame.

In the end, the story of Notre-Dame is not just about a building, nor is it about Paris. It is about the eternal truths that such spaces symbolize: the presence of God in the midst of humanity, the hope of renewal after ruin, and the call to create something lasting and beautiful. Whether in Paris or Portland, the act of restoration points us toward what matters most – not just the preservation of the past, but the pursuit of the transcendent.