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. 

This Is Home - Chicago Take Two

"I am home.

Trust in me.

From today, that is all I need to say is....

Don't you know how much you've changed me? 

Strange how I finally see.

I found home.

You're my home."

- "The Transformation," Beauty and the Beast 

     After a long fifteen hour day on Thursday, I called Sister Michele and double-checked the solo flying protocol. All I had to do was print the ticket and the next morning just go through to security in the airport, she confirmed. And so, Mike and I went to the Library to print my ticket. Then, after a series of venting sessions, dinner at Applebees and some homework, I finally finished packing around 2 am. For a few hours I slept in my bed before getting up and going for a run. A nun run, that is.

     I went to bed Thursday night knowing that I would not have time for a nap and I would probably be exhausted by the time I landed in Chicago. But there was an energetic flame in my heart. Within a few hours, I knew I would be seeing not only my AE but also my beloved Chicago Nazareth Sisters. I remembered clear as day how nervous I was about going last year for the first time. I didn't know anyone. Okay, I barely knew a few of the sisters.  But still it was a new place and a new mission and a new experience. I was slightly terrified. This year, however, I was super excited. I was so excited that even the notion of flying solo (I'm flying solo, solo, solooooooooo....) didn't phase me! I was so excited that before the plane even left the ground, I was passed out solid between a few business men and a dad. Before I knew it, the plane was landing! Now there were merely only minutes before I would see my AE! MINUTES!

     I got the warning not to step outside until she texted me. Like a good kid, I obeyed. And when I finally did get the text, I was glad I had listened. Talk about 11 degree weather with a 7 degree wind chill. YIKES! It was FREEZING! Right away bustling conversation took place! Of course! It had almost been a MONTH! And soon, we were pulling into the Provincialate Parking Lot! There were plenty of new sisters to meet and plenty of old friends to hug! Honestly, it was just like walking through the back door of a place I called home. I placed my things in my room in the 2c wing and headed back to help the Coach of the Nun Run team (AKA my AE, Sister Michele) prepare for the Nun Runners. 

      What's this jargon, you ask?! Well, a Nun Run is just that. A group of young women get together and run to the nuns. This year, the nun runners (myself included) were starting at the CSFN Convent (where I just happened to be staying anyway). A few vocation directors from various communities in Chicago joined us for dinner and a Vocation Panel during which we not only asked millions of questions but also heard so many great stories of the sisters. The sisters that joined us ranged from full habited, new communities to very ancient communities to communities without habits and so on and so forth. What was the most beautiful story, I felt, was Sr. Elyse, OP's description of charism. She told us that a charism is the light that shines forth from a facet in a beautifully cut diamond. The light is the same for every community, but the difference is how the light shines through! How beautiful?! We ended the first night of the nun run with The Trouble With Angels. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. SHORT CUT.

       The next morning was an early one as we began with Mass. I fell in love with the priest who gave such an energetic homily where he not only engaged the congregation but also told extremely intriguing stories. Like I said, in love. Soon after we had breakfast. The girls were surprised by the AWESOME breakfast we had, but let's be honest: there's always good eats at the convent! And then we trekked out in the three inches of snow to visit the Carmelites. 

        Sister Teresita (little Teresa) greeted us at the turn and asked us for our special intentions before we headed upstairs to the speak room. In the speak room, behind the grate (I wish I had been able to take a picture....) there were a plethora of brown habited sisters and two German Shepherds. For two hours they spoke to us about the life of Carmel, vocations, life in general and told us so many stories. It was as if they spent all day in silence....oh wait. They do! It's one of the most beautiful things about Carmel that I love: the peace and silence! Contemplative life is the life of my soul. However, Apostolic life is the life of my hands. I could never make it as a Carmelite, not because I can't ever shut up (although some would argue this is the main reason....) but rather because I know I am meant to touch people and help them heal. I can't necessarily do that from the cloister. However, there will always be that longing, that senhsucht, in my heart for the life of Carmel. 

       Next on the Nun Run were the Sisters of the Resurrection. We spent lunchtime with these sisters and how beautiful our time was there. In fact, one of the sisters here knew one of my close CSFN sisters from home. What a small world (and confirmation!). After a beautiful prayer service, we headed on out to visit the Felician Sisters! One of the sisters who was with us, struck up conversation right away with me. Even though she was telling us many stories in the car, it wasn't until we got to the convent that her and I really got to talk. I felt as if we connected right away, before we even had a conversation. Here's the kicker, I was the only one who really understood her word for word. She's from Poland. As we were headed into Chapel, she whispered to me that I was fall in love. And boy did I ever. It was like a mini cathedral hidden like a diamond in the rough. As part of our visit with the Felician Sisters, a few other Vocation Directors from the area joined us for what they call an Emmaus Walk. This is when we each get paired with a Sister by luck of the draw and walk with them to share stories. As I was handed the pile of names, I prayed that I was meant to have a sister who would understand me. I was blessed with Sister Eliana, the Polish Sister who I connected with earlier. I thanked God, because in my little heart, she was the sister I was praying to walk with. And so, we did. We walked and shared and understood. I told her how I understood her so well and we shared much wisdom! I felt so blessed. 

        There was one more stop on the nun run and that was at the Convent of the Sisters of Charity. It is here that I discovered that in Chicago, they cut their round pizza into squares. Yeah...very strange. And I let the Philly girl out of me when I said it was so weird. Of course, at that time I was still saying soda and not pop and getting strange looks. We prayed here, too, with the sisters which was beautiful! And we always received prayer partners. Ironically, when I first sat down in the living/community room, I had no idea my Prayer Partner, Sister Marsha, was sitting next to me. At the end of our time, it was revealed to us and I couldn't help but think how great God is with His poetic foreshadowing. God must have been an English Major!

        My exhaustion was running high as we piled into the convent car and headed back to the CSFN convent. Except, I was the only one staying again. I kept thinking to myself, I can't wait to hop into my pj's and get some sleep. AND IT WAS ONLY NINE O'CLOCK. But then somehow, I ended up in the 2B community room around the corner with Sister Maria Sophia, Sister AE, and Sister Gabriella. FOR THREE AND A HALF HOURS. I edited Sister Gabriella's paper, we skyped with Sister Cordia in Philadelphia, we chatted tons and tons, and after Sister Maria Sophia and Sister AE trickled off to bed, Sister Gabriella and I stayed up chatting some more. 

     You see, she's also a college student and most of her energy is spent during the night. Staying up til midnight (or later) is normal for both of us and there was plenty to catch up on. She's always been one to ask me "So, when are you entering?" And I've always given her the quick answer, "I don't know." It's not a pressure filled question, but rather a question from one big sister to her little sister. It's exactly how when I ask Mary, my little sister, when she is coming home. I always get an indefinite answer. This time, however, I was able to really put into words my fears, my joys and my duties. Finishing school, getting a degree and a job and paying off loans all have to be done before I can enter. The loan thing is the biggest hurdle. But then, how do I leave home? How would I survive a community where so many sisters are almost old enough to be my parents (no disrespect intended!)? How could I do  it? And she gave me so much insight. I honestly felt like I was confiding in my big sister and she was giving me counsel and HOPE!

       The next morning, I joined the council for prayers and breakfast in their wing. Later, I joined the rest of the sisters for Sunday Mass during which we celebrated: Consecrated Life Day, a 51st Wedding Anniversary for a local couple and the feast of St. Blase. When I sang, as a mere member of the congregation, I truly felt my heart sore. It was a true recognition of truth, beauty and home. Right after Mass, a good group of us ran out the door in six inches of snow to see the High School Production of Beauty and the Beast at St. Viator High School where Sister Maria Sophia teaches. I can honestly say that as many times as I have seen Beauty and the Beast, I have never cried so much during it. It was just so well-done and simply beautiful. Of course, I obviously found so many connections to what I was feeling that weekend.

       The good news that follows this, is that we made it back just in time for supper and the Superbowl. Of course, my interest in football is about a negative 54%. So, while the majority of the sisters were watching, and a few others were doing homework, school prep work and council work (or playing Words with Friends....) I was teaching Sister Luke how to not only add contacts but take pictures and set them as caller IDs! I knew the lesson was successful when she called me later from upstairs just to check the score of the game! We made it to the end of the game where the emotions were running high in the room. Of course, I was busy snacking on the AWESOME Buffalo Chicken Dip made by the always lovely Canonical Novice, Sister Faustina! At the last 13 seconds, when the Ravens took a safety shot, the sisters were on the edge of their seats. Half the room was voting 49ers, and the other half was voting Ravens. At 34:31, it was so close! And finally....finally, the room exploded in cheers as the Baltimore Ravens came through with the wind. It was almost ten o'clock by then. 

       Oh how I so wanted to sleep. But there was a subtle invitation from Sister Gabriela. Of course, I did the natural college wake me up and took a hot shower. Which, mind you, every time I took a hot shower, I thought I set off the fire alarm because half way through the shower, the water just starts SCREAMING. Anyway, quickly into my PJ's I went and headed softly down the hall to her door. She jumped up, grabbed the blanket and a movie and ran with me (like sisters..) to the community room to watch it. Of course, it was a new movie for me and yet, a movie she had "known well." I was crying, she was crying, we were laughing and gasping and yeah...it was a good movie! By 12:30, I was exhausted again and had no problem falling asleep. 

      The next morning at 5 am, I quick jumped out of bed and met Sister Maria Sophia in the lobby. We headed out in what was now ten inches of snow for Mass and then a long day at St. Viator High School. There I observed different English and Theology classes as well as shared my story. Who was I? Where was I from? What was I doing there? It all came down to a mere college student who wants to be a nun. However, at one point I got introduced as a nun and I had to smile and say, nuns don't normally where mascara  or eye liner. Before I knew it, the full day was OVER and we were headed home. Then...it was a rapid mission to pack and clean in an hour. Could I do it? Yes. Could I do it without crying? Maybe not.

       During the time I was packing and organizing my room, Sister Maria Sophia and Sister Angela came to visit. You know you are comfortable with the sisters and the sisters are comfortable with you when you can pack all your belongings (including dirty laundry) in front of them and neither party minds. I was trying so hard not to cry. So hard. I had felt so at home, so loved during the time I spent there. I felt like me. Truly Becca, truly me. I didn't feel out of place or awkward or even restrained. In fact, I felt freer than ever. 

      As I carried my things down the stairs before one final sweep of my room, I met a few Sisters along the way: Sister Michael Marie, Sister Mary Ann and Sister Stella Marie. Each of those sisters have such a beautiful spot in my heart. I made a final stop in the Chapel, gave hugs goodbye and did the sweep. I took my time saying good bye because nun time is all relative. We printed my plane ticket and packed the car. To the airport I went after one final good-bye and "Kochem Cie" (I love you in Polish....). Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry.

      Finally, I was on the plane sitting next to a gentle old man and an empty seat. I plugged my earbuds into my iphone and pressed play. What was the first song that came on? "This Is Home" by Switchfoot. Yep, instant tears. There was so much about this weekend in Chicago that made me thank God over and over. There were so many little confirmations or God-Winks as I like to call them. The snow was a HUGE confirmation that I was where I needed to be at that present moment. I know they are called Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth for a reason, because I certainly felt like a mala siostra (little sister) in a big family. I felt loved, so very loved. And yes, deep down in my heart, I knew, rather, was almost reminded of where I belong: As Jesus' beloved. Because honestly, this is home. 

Sister Angela ;)

Sister Eliana, a Felician Sister

The Most Beautiful Chapel

The Superbowl girls

A shoeless match made in Heaven

The Nun Runners

A snowy message from God

Sister Lucille

The Carmelite Turn