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. 

Keeping Jesus Company

"In the silence of the heart, God speaks.

If you face God in prayer and in silence, God will speak to you.

Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your

nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. 

Souls of prayer are souls of silence."

- Mother Theresa 

     Holy Week began on Sunday with Palm Sunday. As per the tradition, the choir met at ten am and practiced with Sister Regina with the same Palm Sunday songs we do every year. However, there was something different: she wanted me to sing the opening antiphon: Hosanna to the Son of David. I'll be honest; I didn't think I could sing that loudly or strongly. But when she made me sing, I felt like she was Sister Mary Clarence and I was Sister Mary Robert from Sister Act...you know that scene when Whoopi comes in and rearranges the choir and then tells Sister Mary Robert to sing out - loud? Yeah, that happens to me everytime Sister Regina makes me sing. Needless to say, I was a little nervous to sing out in the rotunda in front of all those people. But, after Mass I could feel the Holy Week High coming on.

    In years past, Holy Week was always my most favorite week. This year, I was praying to be filled with the same excitement for Holy Week. For some reason, I had lost my excitement for Lent about week three of fasting and almsgiving. Although, SEARCH did help with my excitement about LIFE, my excitement about Holy Week was still being tucked dormant in my soul somewhere. Starting with my emotional sob fest after Palm Sunday Mass on Sunday Night, the week was a roller coaster of emotions. I cried and laughed many times.

    Again, this year, I partook in the Busy Person's Retreat and this time around my Spiritual Director was Sister Mary. A big focus of my reflections was the idea of servitude to God. My whole life I felt I had been called to be a Servant of the Lord. Even the very word, servant, is important to me. The second day of retreat I prayed with the first reading from ISAIAH in which it was proclaimed: by your mother's womb, I have called you by name. My name, Rebecca, means servant of God in Hebrew. So, as you can see, the word servant is so important and it plays a huge part in my discernment story. 

     As I shared with Sister Mary, often the tears came as I spoke about all the times I have already been blessed to give of myself to others. Tears came when I spoke about the blessing Immaculata has been. And of course, the tears came when I spoke about the Sisters at school who have become a family to me. But as we spoke, she seemed to notice that I wasn't as talkative as usual. Perhaps it was because our meetings were at 9 in the morning or maybe because I didn't get much sleep. But I remember bringing up the idea of having two ears and one mouth for a reason. The reading of the day for Wednesday, our last day of retreat, said something about God hearing us when we cry out. And so, there was suddenly a reflection on not only hearing God's word as a servant of His, but also knowing that God is always listening. 

     Flash forward to Holy Thursday night. In keeping with tradition, Sister Marcelina and I headed to Our Lady of Czestochowa in Doylestown for Mass. While we were a few minutes late (red lights...every single one) and walked in during the Gloria, I couldn't help but notice one thing: the music. But it wasn't actually the music that struck me even though the voices were absolutely beautiful, it was the lack of organ playing. The music was only voices. They sang a meditative hymn: Ubi Caritas and I closed my eyes and listened to the gentle silence of the hymn. All throughout Mass, all I could think of was silence, silence, silence.

     When we got home to the convent, I got in my car and turned off the radio (I have a bad habit of leaving it on when I turn the car off). Typically on Holy Thursday, I make a pilgrimage to either three or seven churches. While I knew I wasn't going to make seven churches considering the hour, but I made it to three. As I traveled, I was surprised to see how many children were out late with their families visiting churches. It made me smile to see how many beautiful families, the true witnesses of the faith, were out and keeping with the Old School Traditions. My first stop was Saint Katherine of Siena parish (aka where I parked my car at the convent). There, everything was stripped down and silenced in the very physical form. There were a few children, families and older couples.  At my second stop, St. Charles, again I noticed the quieting of the atmosphere. Statues were covered in purple linens so as to maintain the quiet and silence. I also noticed that it really drew the attention to the focal point of Holy Thursday night: Jesus. 

      Finally, at St. Ann's, my favorite chapel, it dawned on me. I knelt on the floor and gazed at my beautiful and beloved Savior. All around me was quiet, I had no more words for Jesus. Silence overtook my heart. It was in those sweeping moments that I realized why Holy Week wasn't quite Holy Week for me yet; I wasn't engulfed in a sea of silence. Although, I did share in the tears of Christ all week, I hadn't shared in the quieting of His mind and soul. I realized though, that Jesus' mind was restless on the night of His betrayal. He kept asking His father to let the cup pass. He was experiencing the true pain of being a servant of God as we so often do. I realized last night that I had shared in so much of Christ's passion already and I didn't know it. I had shared in His tears, His anxiety about His future, His overwhelming knowledge of His Father's presence, His pain in being a servant of His Father...and of course, the silence in the garden. As I kept Jesus company in the garden last night, I felt true solidarity with Him. I felt, again, peace of Holy Week. I felt Jesus speaking to me in my silence of heart and mind. It was there in the garden of silence and agony, that I felt one with Him. It's beautiful what simply sitting with one's Beloved can do for one's soul. Thank you, Jesus. 

Normally, I'd add a song here. But in keeping with the tradition of silence, 

my invitation is that you, too, can spend a few minutes in silence with Jesus.