I must confess that I’m still on something of
a ‘Holy Land High’ in the wake of our recent parish pilgrimage. This was
not my first visit to the Holy Land but it was hands-down my best. We
were a large – very large – group of pilgrims (113, to be exact!) and we
came from many different places, but in one way or another, each of us
found our faith coming alive in new and powerful ways during those
blessed days in those holy places.
We Catholics like to see and touch, don’t we?
It’s in our DNA. Isn’t that what happens in each of the sacraments of
the Church? Prayerful words are good, but not enough: we also need
flowing water, bread and wine, blessed oil, the laying on of hands. And
we need statues, stained-glass windows, the visual arts, music - not to
mention candles, ashes, palms and processions. A Holy Land pilgrimage
fits in with all of those and is yet one more example of our need to see
and to touch.
We did a lot of seeing and touching on our
pilgrimage. Picture with me, will you, the first day of the pilgrimage
when for the first time we saw the blue waters of the Sea of Galilee
shimmering in the morning sun. It’s a sight never to forgotten. You
can’t possibly take in that view without thinking to yourself: ‘Jesus
saw this, and he loved what he saw!’ He did, of course, and – unlike
other holy places we visited - very little in that scene has changed
over two millennia. It’s still this vibrant Sea surrounded by mountains
and white-washed villages and towns. This was definitely a place where
we touched Jesus!
And that was true as well of our boat trip on
the lake - the lake where Jesus once walked across the waters and
invited the impetuous Peter to join him; the lake where the terrified
friends of Jesus awakened him from his comfortable, detached sleep, and
where with a word he calmed the stormy waters; the lake where twice he
told his disciples to put out their nets for a catch – in both cases
getting a catch so great that they needed help to haul it ashore. We
were surely touching Jesus as we made our way through those waters of
the Sea of Galilee. Lucky for us, they were calm that day, like glass!
And then, there was our visit to Nazareth where
we recalled the angel Gabriel’s visit to Mary and her generous yes to
God - that holiest of moments when the Word of God took on our human
flesh. A story for us up till then, a treasured story - but now an event
that became very real! We touched Jesus there, as we did when we
celebrated Mass near the place where he spent his growing-up years,
learning the carpenter’s trade from Joseph.
Capernaum was another
place where Jesus seemed very close. There were the ruins of the
synagogue where he taught and healed, and there was Mass in a church
built right over the house where Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in-law, and
where some persistent friends ripped off the roof tiles so they could
lower their paralyzed friend to Jesus who healed him on the spot.
Then there was the lovely hillside called
the Mount of Beatitudes, the place that brings to mind Matthew’s Sermon
on the Mount from which we’ve been reading these last few Sundays,
including today. It’s a beautiful grassy knoll that spills down to the
lakeshore. It was easy to see Jesus setting forth the New Law in that
place – easy to see him, too, when we ascended Mount Tabor and found
ourselves echoing the words of Peter, dazzled by the sight of the
transfigured Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here!” It was indeed
good - so close did we come to touching the transfigured Lord on that
mystical mountaintop.
And, of course, we were touching the
risen Lord when we celebrated Mass we in lovely Magdala on the Lake,
home of Mary Magdalene who was more apostle than any of the Twelve:
Mary, the first to encounter the risen Lord; the first one sent to
announce to the Twelve and others the news of his resurrection.
The order of our pilgrimage was not
chronological. That’s owing to the geography of the Holy Land and the
fact that it worked best for us to start up north in Galilee. Jesus
started out in Bethlehem, of course, but we didn’t get to Bethlehem
until the fourth day of the pilgrimage. It was worth waiting for. We
celebrated Mass in one of the side chapels of the ancient Basilica of
the Nativity, and then each of us descended the narrow stairway that
leads to the place illuminated by hanging oil lamps where tradition says
Jesus was born. We felt we were touching Jesus when we bent over to
touch the place that the faith - and the kisses - of untold millions of
pilgrims over the centuries have made even more sacred that it already
was.
Bethlehem is very close to Jerusalem, although
to get there, you have to come face-to-face with the hated and highly
controversial wall that to the Israeli government speaks of security,
but to the Palestinians, speaks of racial segregation and apartheid.
Ironically, the very name, ‘Jerusalem’ means ‘City of Peace.’ Would that
it could live up to its name!
Jerusalem! Psalm 122 reminds us that
you only get to Jerusalem by going up. “Let us go up with joy to the
House of the Lord”- we sang as we made our ascent. Jerusalem is a sight
never to be forgotten: a great outcropping of stone structures
-steeples, domes, and minarets – places holy to Jews, Christians, and
Muslims, a proud city and an ancient one with a past both glorious and
brutal, and a present that is never far from eruptions of violence – as
we witnessed first-hand during our stay. There were some anxious
moments…! Jesus once wept over this city, and when we visited the church
that commemorates that moment, it was easy to feel his presence as we
looked out on the city that he loved but knew only too well, the city
that persecuted the Prophets, the hilltop where he ultimately met his
cruel death on the cross.
Some of the highlights of Jerusalem – the
places where it was especially easy to touch Jesus were the Garden of
Gethsemane at the foot of the Mount of Olives (we prayed and we waited
in that place of shadows and betrayal); then, the Cenacle or Upper Room
atop Mount Zion where tradition places the Last Supper as well as the
day of Pentecost; and crowning them all is the great Church of the Holy
Sepulcher – built by the emperor Constantine right over the rock that is
Calvary. Nearby, and under the roof of the same ancient basilica is the
tomb where Jesus was hastily buried and from which he was gloriously
raised on Easter morning. To tell the truth, it’s almost too much to
take in. It takes time, but when you stop and kneel and pray and ponder
in those holiest of places, you know – without a doubt – that you have
touched the very heart of our faith. And so you have.
Friends, I took some license by departing
from the readings of the day. I make no apology. The great St. Jerome
who spent years of his life near the place of Christ’s birth in
Bethlehem, translating the Bible from its original languages into Latin,
called the Holy Land “the fifth gospel.” And so it is!
During our days in the Holy Land, 113 of
your fellow parishioners were privileged to ‘read’ some of that “fifth
gospel,” and you were with us as we read. At every Mass we offered in
those holy places we prayed for you and your loved ones, prayed for our
wonderful community of faith at St. James. And the day we stopped by the
river Jordan, the traditional site of the baptism of Jesus, to renew the
promises of our baptism, I became keenly aware – and I suspect others
did, too – that it’s really all about baptism - all about being part of
the Body of Christ, all about touching Christ in Word, Sacrament, and
one another. And, my friends, you don’t need to travel across the world
to experience that reality. You don’t. We experience it every time we
celebrate the Eucharist. Including now!
Father Michael G. Ryan
|
|
