Last month I went with 35 other seminarians and priests from the NAC to Israel for a two week pilgrimage. We were in Galilee for 6 days, including Christmas, and in Jerusalem for 6 days, including New Years. The trip was absolutely incredible and was filled with grace and many substantial periods of silent prayer with the Lord. From the moment we first arrived in Galilee through our last day in Jerusalem I was filled with a sense of being home-- a sense that I have been here before and this place where Jesus lived, taught, healed, and gave himself for us is in some way my home. And in light of what Brother Roger says, I think that I felt so at home in the Land of Jesus because there in some special way I was united with him and with countless Christians from over two thousand years in our effort to live the Gospel.
Like many religious sites which attract pilgrims, the Holy Land stands as a symbol and representation of the universality of our faith. We believe that Christ came
for all people-- for people from every corner of the globe. And it is truly awesome to see people from every corner of the globe coming to Christ on pilgrimage, in prayer, in service to one another, in their parish community, etc. It is an inspiring witness. And it was together that we, believers from all over the world, prayed at these religious sites, together in worshiping the God who came to our world for us and together in praying for our loved ones back home.Our group celebrated Mass together each day at different religious sites of historical significance. We celebrated on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, on the Mount of Beatitudes (pictured above), in Capernaum where Peter lived, at Peter's Primacy where Jesus forgave Peter and commissioned him to feed his sheep. We celebrated at the spot of the Annunciation in Nazareth, at the chapel of the Upper Room in Jerusalem, in Gethsemane where Jesus had his Agony in the Garden, and in the chapel of the Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre on the site where Jesus was crucified, died, was buried, and rose from the dead. And at all of these celebrations we were mindful of those countless droves of pilgrims who have prayed and celebrated the Mass in these places.
One Mass stands out in particular. We were invited to join a German community of Benedictines
for Christmas morning Mass at their monastery in Tabga, the site of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. In addition to our group and the Benedictines there were a fair number of German pilgrims there for the Mass too. And in their typical great hospitality the Benedictines did everything they could to help us Americans feel welcome. At the very beginning of Mass the main celebrant, one of the Benedictines, said with great joy in German and in English that today, Christmas, is an international cause for great joy and celebration. The birth of our Lord and Savior is a reality that breaks every barrier and brings life for every single person-- regardless of race and language. And really it is a reality that breaks those barriers forever. That Christmas morning we worshiped together, German and American alike. Our Mass was bi-lingual. We sang hymns in English and German. The readings and homily were in English and German. The prayers were in English and German. And how fitting. How fitting that we praise the universal savior together who came for all, united in gratitude and in faith.
Another international experience that stands out was while we were praying in the Basilica on the Mount of Beatitudes. Our group had spread out in the church and were praying silently on this spot where Jesus gave the Beatitudes when a large group of pilgrims from Africa came in and filled the church. They continued to then fill the church with their prayers and songs as they cried out to our God in their own way. It was interesting to note the differences in how we prayed. Our group sat quietly, spread out, many with Bible or Breviary out, whereas they packed in together and prayed out loud. We were all doing the same thing, but we were doing it somewhat differently-- each in our own way. But we were there together and there was a richness in our diversity.
The Gospel does not only call people together from different nations, but it also calls together people of different Creeds and denominations. To be clear, there is certainly much work to be
done in Christian Unity and the Holy Land is no exception. There are divisions between the Christian denominations and certain te
nsions continue to make those divisions clearly visible. But there is also the reality of people of all Christian faith traditions praying together. Though there was a clash between monks of two different Orthodox traditions in the same church three days before, I went into the cave area where Jesus was born in Bethlehem with Orthodox Christians. Though tensions continue to exist, people from each denomination go to these sites to pray-- and they go together. Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Protestant-- all go together to these places and pray side by side at the site of the crucifixion on Calvary. Side by side at the site where Jesus went on trial and was condemned to death. Side by side at the site where St. Stephen was martyred. Side by side on the site where Jesus rose from the dead. Every single day people from different denominations and different Christian traditions come together and pray side by side, recalling in great gratitude the loving actions of God on earth, bringing with them all of their loved ones from home.
One experience of this coming together really touched me. During one of the days that we were
in Jerusalem we stopped in to pray in a basilica that was built by the crusaders. It is very rare for a church, or much of anything, built by the crusaders to remain standing in Jerusalem. But this particular church building remains because of its beauty and its great acoustics inside. And so groups of pilgrims who visit this church typically sing, raising their prayers to God in this historic church. After our group had been there for a little while we sang the Pater Noster, the Our Father in Latin. The acoustics were impressive as the words of this prayer echoed throughout the church-- plus I think we did a pretty good job singing...
After we had finished singing we spread out. I went downstairs to see the lower level, and as I came back up the stairs I heard an incredible sound; a non-denominational group from America had gathered around the center of the church and was singing Amazing Grace. It was awesome. I sat down and listened to the prayers as they rose up from this circle of pilgrims. They continued their praise, song after song. And as they prayed my spirits were lifted. As they prayed I prayed. And in that moment we were together as Christians, praising our God. And it was good. It was fitting.
I also experienced this transcendental togetherness in the reality of praying in places where Christians have prayed for over two thousand years and being in communion with them. One of
the places where I felt really united to the countless millions of pilgrims who had gone before me was in a place just on the outside of Old Jerusalem where Jesus was held over the night of Holy Thursday, after being arrested in the Garden. Historians and scholars hold that during that dark night Jesus was lowered into a deep and lightless pit that was only accessible through a small hole, just wide enough to lower a person into the pit and pull them up out of the pit. And it was in this pit that Jesus stood and waited.
He had already firmly set his heart on the will of the Father. He had already resolutely determined to give himself, his very life, for all of humanity. He had already said Yes. But he had to wait. And he had to wait in dark silence. He had to wait in solitude.
He had to wait in uncertainty as to what the next day would bring.While our group was in this pit together (there are now stairs that go down into the pit from the side) we prayed from Psalm 88: "I cry out before you... for my soul is full of trouble and my life draws near to the grave... You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths... and darkness is my only friend." Strong words that communicate stronger depths of agony. These are words that I imagine Christ would have prayed that night in this very pit. They are also words that countless pilgrims who have gone to the Holy Land may have prayed in that very pit. And how accutely we can relate to them. How powerfully and intimately we can relate to that pit. I imagine every pilgrim who has ever stood in that pit felt the knee buckling shock of standing with our Lord in his despair and fear and darkness. And what a gift, to stand there with Jesus, our Lord and our Brother, supporting him and praying for him and in union with him. And we pilgrims did that together-- together in the timeless and transcendent communion of our faith.
It is so beautiful too to know that in that pit I stood with Christ our Lord and Brother, all of the pilgrims who have stood in the pit over the years, and also every single person who has spent any amount of time in the pits of despair. Every one of us, to whatever degree, can intimately relate to the words of Psalm 88. Every one of us can relate to standing in a low and dark pit with uncertainty as to what tomorrow will bring. And because our God loves us-- Not one of us prays those hallowing words of Psalm 88 alone. Not one of us stands in our pits of darkness and fear alone. We are never alone. Jesus is there with us. Think about it; over that night as Jesus stood there in the dark depths of the pit-- he stood with us and we with him. And that will not change.
In addition to being together with Our Lord, Christians from around the world, Christians from all time periods, I was also in a special way with my family, friends, co-workers, students, parishioners, and fellow seminarians who I took with me on pilgrimage.
As our group celebrated the Christmas Midnight Mass in Galilee we prayed that our gift to God this Christmas might be these people that we bring with us on pilgrimage: may we bring them, their struggles, their joys, their petitions, their needs, and present them to the Lord at the sites where he taught, where he healed, where he called the disciples, where he prayed, where he was baptized, where he reconciled Peter to himself, where he instituted the Eucharist, where he was arrested, where he was held overnight in darkness, where he was put on trial, where he was crucified, and where he rose from the dead. In each of these places I brought these people-- my family, friends, co-workers, students, parishioners, and brother seminarians. And in the act of presenting them to God, in praying with them, I was together with them. I was together in communion with them as I prayed especially that they might share in the ultimate cause for hope and joy-- the Resurrection; especially that they might in some way experience a taste of the Resurrection now-- and that that taste might spark a fire in their lives to somehow live the Resurrection.
This pilgrimage to the Holy Land was awesome. It was personally a time of growing in intimacy and communion with the Lord and with his people. All of these experiences also deepened my understanding of and peace in my ongoing formation and training to be a priest in Baltimore. Part of the role that I hope to enter into in Baltimore is to be a witness to how we are united in so many ways that we may never know; united as Catholics as well as Christians. We are together. We pray together. We live together. We stand in the pits and on the mountain tops of our lives together with one anoty this reality. May we bear witness to our communion and work tirelessly for a greater visible union. And when we all, as people of faith, are persecuted-- as is the case for many Christians living in the Holy Land, as is the case for many Christians living throughout the Middle East and in parts of Africa, as is the case for many Christians in Asia, as is the case for many who suffer violence, and as is the case for people of faith in the United States as religious freedom and the freedom to follow one's conscience is threatened to be denied by the government-- may we stand together. And may we look to our Lord who is with us and to his Spirit who wants so much to guide us.
We are called to live the Gospel. And to live the Gospel together.
