Pilgrimage (The Catholic Version of a Music Festival) Pt. 1

"If music be the food of love, play on."

- Twelfth Night, Shakespeare

      Most recently there has been plenty of articles about going to music festivals. There's the pre-festival hype, the "how you know you survived (enter name here) music festival," and the post-festival blues. While I've never experienced going to a music festival as huge as Glastonbury or Coachella, I participated in a walking pilgrimage this weekend and based on what Buzzfeed has to say, they are basically the same thing. Only a pilgrimage has way home to offer. 

     While I couldn't participate in the entire 3/4 day walking pilgrimage, I was blessed enough to participate in the last day during which I walked just about ten miles. The group with whom I walked started at St. Adalbert's Parish in Port Richmond and walked for three days to the National Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa in Doylestown. That's a lot of miles and a lot of walking. People of all ages partook in the pilgrimage from various different places. Overall, there were about 3000 people at the closing mass. The youngest pilgrim was only a few months old and the oldest was 79 years old. There were families, single people, children, babies, and older people. There were people who spoke only Polish and people like me, who didn't understand a single word. Oh, I forgot to mention that 99% of the pilgrimage was in Polish. So, needless to say, that was an interesting part of my journey. 

      As we walked, we prayed, we listened to faith witnesses, we sang, we danced, we praised the Lord. We made friends, sisters and brothers. Despite not being able to speak the main language of the weekend, I was able to connect with so many people. I was surrounded in so much faith and felt closer to those with whom I walked and prayed. I experienced God in a brand new way and it was beautiful. The faith sharing, the pain from walking so far, the getting to know people on a faith level, was beautiful. 

      We made it to the shrine about 12:15pm and we were to celebrate Mass together at 2:00pm. As we were waiting for Mass to begin, we watched the church get filled and packed like sardines. People were every where, even on the altar. I felt that despite never having experienced something to this capacity, I felt like I knew all about it; like I had read about it some where. Then I saw a few girls walk into the church with those weird flower headband things people wear. That's when I realized, I had read all about something similar this pilgrimage. Music festivals are all the rage and the similarities are insane. Here's what I discovered: 

1. Pilgrimages are filled with music, clapping, and dancing. Just like music festivals (duh). People walk with their guitars and play it at the most random times. All the cool kids have one. There's also drums, violins, flutes; you name it, it's there. People just join your walking group with instruments and play right along with whoever is there. Even when you aren't walking and you're sitting for a break, there's music being played somewhere. If someone can't play an instrument or didn't bring one, there's always a voice to be heard. People who can sing, sing and people who can't sing, sing. There's lots of clapping, dancing, and laughing. The only difference between music at a pilgrimage and music at a music festival? We sing hymns instead of pop culture music. 

2. Showering is few and far between. Basically you shower the morning of the pilgrimage, then walk all day only to sleep on a Church hall floor. There's no showers. The next day, same thing. Walk all day, stop at the Church, no showers. Three days of this. If it rains, you're going to get dirty. To keep packing light, you bring maybe two sets of clothes. You're going to smell. You're going to get sweaty. You're going to have terribly stinky feet. Your hair will be knotty, greasy, icky. You're children will be even dirtier because somehow kids always manage to get dirtier when they do the same activities as parents. You're going to have to get comfortable with the fact that everyone stinks after three days. And don't even think about apologizing for your stench. I repeat, everyone stinks. 

*according to my sources pilgrims do shower. I rest my case, however, because there were no showers in the church hall. They get water...somehow!*

3. You're going to get very close with people. At music festivals one typically pitches a tent in a field of tents. You get to know your neighbors pretty quickly because if not, you'll forget where your tent is. On a larger scale, pilgrimages do encourage you to pack a tent or a hammock. The truth is on a walking pilgrimage, one is never really sure where he or she will be sleeping. In this case, people were camped out on church hall floors. EVERYONE WAS IN ONE ROOM. That's right, babies, kids, parents, single people, everyone. Imagine getting some sleep after a very long day of walking. By day three, you're bound to be exhausted. 

4. You make friends in the most unique ways. In many cases, music festivals bring together people from every language and culture. Pilgrimages, too. Now while this pilgrimage was mostly a Polish pilgrimage, there were still people of many different cultures represented. People say the universal language is love. Most times I agree. But this weekend, there were two universal languages: coffee and God. And since God is love, well I guess the universal language was LOVE. Truth is. It doesn't matter, it didn't matter what language I spoke. People were grabbing my hands, dancing, singing and talking with me whether I understood them or not. You learn how to communicate despite a language barrier (I had a personal translator though which was fun. Thanks, Sister!). The people you walk with are suddenly your sisters and brothers. They hug you, kiss you, make you dance and sing and feel like a complete fool for Jesus. It's amazing. 

5. You are forever changed. A pilgrimage changes you. Whether you walked because you wanted to, someone invited you, or you were basically fighting the Lord and someone dragged you along, you will be changed. You will not be able to recognize your feet after a few days. I kid you not. Your feet will probably be covered in bandages, gold bond and have a number of blisters. You will have terrible tan lines, too. Especially if you're a nun. Talk about only have tan wrists, ankles and ears (but only half way). Your feet, face and hands will be so physically changed. But don't worry, it's only temporary. Your heart will change, too. You will feel a peace, joy and excitement like never before. There is nothing more beautiful to me than a group of people singing, dancing and chanting praise to the Lord. At music festivals you experience the praise and worship of various different rockstars. At pilgrimage, you experience the praise and worship of the ultimate rockstars: Jesus and Mary. Your heart will unknowingly be changed by the sacrifices, the witnesses, the homilies, the sacraments. Your soul will become closer to Jesus and there's no question about it. You will feel this indescribable joy rising in your soul with every drum beat, every clap, every footstep. It feels like a thousand drum beats rising in your soul. It's amazing. 

And finally...

6. You will experience a post-pilgrimage depression. The whole time you are walking, you are walking on public streets and pathways. People driving or walking by will think you are crazy. Yet, as you are walking, you wave and think about those crazy people who do not yet know the truth of the Lord's goodness. Why aren't they joining us? you think. And just when you think that, people run and join the back of the pilgrimage. Your whole life for however many days was simply music, joy, peace, prayer, love behind all description. When you leave, reality hits you hard. You must learn to communicate in a normal way. You will experience a reverse culture shock when you go home. Living your day to day life for Jesus will be difficult again because you are no longer surrounded by people who sing and dance and pray. And as much as you might like to do that all the time, basic reality says, not exactly. However, there are plenty of ways to infiltrate your pilgrimage experience in your every day life. I promise; life after pilgrimage exists. 

     Pilgrimages aren't exactly like Musical Festivals, but the sentiments that people feel when they go to one are similar. I encourage each Catholic young person, child and old person alike to do a pilgrimage. Whether it's a day, three days, two weeks, whatever, do it. Music Festivals are great but here at pilgrimage, there is God. Jesus is present, He permeates this place. He lives and breathes and is so real. You can feel the arms of our loving Mother around you in every hug and embrace. You experience beauty in a whole different way. It's amazing. 

     Of course, the truth is that whether you experience a walking pilgrimage like I did or not, you are a pilgrim. We are pilgrims on a journey from the day of our Baptism. Our life is a journey in finding, loving and living in relationship with Jesus. Our walk from our pews to the altar during Holy Communion is a pilgrimage. It is a reminder that as we live and breathe we are journeying with Jesus.  So journey. Get those good shoes (sandals and socks) on and begin living out your journey for Jesus. You're on the journey, just out your heart in it. Trust me, my sister or brother, pilgrimage is an experience like no other. 

A Day in the Field of..Parent? - Field Day 2012

“To you who are parents, I say, show love to your children. You know you love them, but make certain they know it as well. They are so precious. Let them know."

- Thomas S. Monson

       At twenty years old, one wouldn't think I know much about motherhood. I've never had a child of my own, true, but when a new baby comes into your family when you're just turning twelve, it kind of turns you into a baby mama. I think the funniest thing is that my mother will admit that I changed more of my little sisters diapers than she did. Ever since she was born, I was right there, doing all kinds of things a mother does for her child, for Lizzie. However, the thing I can't stand is when people actually mistaken me for her mother. Like no...absolutely not. But anyway, I do things as an older sibling that some parents don't even do, especially volunteering at school. 

       When I was in high school the thing I loved to do on my days off was not go shopping or go out with my friends, but rather go to my grade school and volunteer to be "Lunch Mom" or "Lunch Sister" as the kiddies called me or to read for the kids or to help with art projects and gym class. I simply loved it. One of my favorite days of the year was Spirit Day (which many know as Field Day) because I got to face paint all the kids faces. Two of my favorite things put together: painting and little kids. I simply loved all the kids and yes, they loved me back. However, our grade school closed last year and so the kids moved on to different schools. Whenever I'm home now from school, I don't volunteer as much because I don't know where to start. I do play taxi though for my little sister and sometimes we will go to Mass at the Parish before school so the parishioner's started to know my face. 

        Two weeks into my summer vacation, my little sister brought home a volunteer form for Field Day. I signed it right away before my mom could even get to it. All I knew was that this was my chance; my chance to see my little ones and my chance to finally get my foot in the door at Lizzie's new school. It didn't even cross my mind that I wouldn't know ANY of the parents there...but there were some that I did know: the sisters. I wasn't even nervous about going into the school. I was about to do something I loved; something that I know is a foreshadowing of my future as an educator and as a sister. 

       So, the day finally came. Lizzie and I headed to Mass where I got mistaken once more as Lizzie's mom, but that was quickly corrected. The sisters all made sure they said their hello, giving me some extra love because they knew I needed it. I dropped her off and then headed home to get ready; I had an hour to kill. At quarter til nine, I hopped in the car and headed back to school where I proceeded to the cafeteria where I knew only one other person. I got my score card and schedule for Lizzie's class and we were ready to go. Our team was a mix of kids I knew from our grade school and kids from the new grade school. By the end of the day all of them were more than willing to hang out with me on a daily basis as they all asked me to come back and play with them. Could I say no? Of course not! 

       The day was filled with many games and many tragedies averted. Let me tell you, when you are eight years old everything seems like a potential tragedy. However, my motherly instincts (and my many education classes) helped avoid all of those potential tragedies. At the end of the sports events, we all sat on the black top and ate our lunches. All the kids learned a little bit about sharing that day, too. After lunch we headed in for the dance party that the principal, Sister Kathleen, put on for the Pre-K - Third Grade kids. What joy filled my heart to see not only the kids dancing and having such a great time but the sisters, too. I got to dance with my favorite little guy, Liam, who is in Pre-K and knew all the words to every song they played; I was in love with the blessings I had been given. 

        The whole day was a true blessing. It felt so great to be back in an atmosphere in which I was so comfortable and which I missed so much while being away at school. As elementary as some college students can be, it doesn't quite measure up to the innocence and playfulness of a second grader. I sincerely missed the whole scene and just the love the kids bring into my life. I couldn't stop thanking God yesterday!

         Aside from loving being back in the scene as "The Best Big Sister Ever," I was so blessed to be with the sisters yesterday as well. Seeing them not only at Mass in the morning, but throughout the whole day was simply a blessing. Our principal, Sister Kathleen made sure she stepped out of her busy day to thank me and congratulate me on my First Field Day at the school. Both Sister Jean and Sister Katherine stopped me in the lunch line to chat for a few minutes about life. And Sister Katherine later joined me on the dance floor with my little Liam. The fact that they barely know me aside my perpetual supply of cookies for their convent, and yet, they went out of their way to get to know me that day was beyond a blessing. It's sisters like that who truly fill my heart with joy; going out of their way just to share the love and give a smile. My favorite sister moment of the day however, were not the lunch line chats or morning pats on the back, but the smile on Sister Jean's face when I had been dancing with Liam, myself on my knees to be on his level, and we were singing our hearts out just having fun. For a quick second I looked over to see if his mom was anywhere around and instead found Sister Jean's loving smile. She had been watching the two of us dance together the whole song. She winked at me and smiled. I went back to dancing. When I looked again, she was gone. Yeah, that was kind of perfect!

           I think the best part of my day was the ability to spread the love. I love the above quote that tells parents to remind their kids how loved they are; it's true. And at Field Day I was able to spread that love and remind the children how much I love them, how perfectly precious they are. And a child for sure, knows when he or she is loved by someone; they give great hugs. And so, while I'm not physically a mother, there's a mother in my heart that got an awful lot of hugs yesterday. And while many may tell me I'll make a good mother, because I would make a good mother, I'll make a great sister for all those kids who will cross my path and bless my life. Here's to the love of children.

    Just a head's up: the blog will be quiet for a little while as I'm headed to New Orleans, Louisiana for some Hurricane Katrina Relief Ministry with school...and with my Daddy. Look forward to all those pictures and plenty of blog posts about my trip!! Can't wait for Service Project Number Two of Summer 2012. We leave at 9:25 tomorrow morning, so all your prayers are greatly appreciated, especially since Papa Guth hates flying!! Lots of love in Jesus Christ. Also, Happy Memorial Day to you all and a great big thanks to our military and veterans!!!