Worship 

There are many things that distinguish a pilgrimage from a holiday or other kinds of organized tours. We worship together. A lot. The first thing we did together (after sharing food, of course) was to share mass. 

Lynn Adams reflects on today’s worship:

Being crowded into the Elijah Chapel and praying in our familiar forms; being supremely tired and also extremely waked up by the feeling that a very big story happened right here to Jesus and his lovably clueless disciples; the stormy atmosphere—all this pulled me into a feeling that something even more extreme or extraordinary is present than I can quite catch. 

Our first mass together


Kierstin Brown offers this snippet of our time in that chapel: ​
​You can read more about our visit to the Church of the Transfiguration here

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Day Three: Arrival and Transfiguration

Our tired, happy group arrived in Tel Aviv at 9:30am, Israel time, collected ourselves and our luggage, found our guide, Ghassan, and boarded the bus that will be our home away from our various homes away from home for the next 9 days.

“”We drove past small towns and rich farmland to meet up for lunch with our group members who had arrived from other places the previous day. Those people had the benefit of this lovely sunrise over the Sea of Galilee on Tuesday morning; it rained most of the day but we hope for a similar sunrise Wednesday or Thursday!

Joe McDermott contributed the rest of today’s post:

Today at the beginning of our Pilgrimage here in Israel and Palestine, we went to the top of Mount Tabor, where believers hold that the Transfiguration took place. (See: Matthew, Chapter 17)  We’d had many paths to gather here in the Holy Land (I’ll take my pre-pilgrimage holiday over the diversion to Newark and 9 hour layover many shared any day!), and this was a fitting place to begin.

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There are two churches at the top of a striking mount rising up out of the plains, one Franciscan and Greek Orthodox (which seems to be closed). The pictures are of the Franciscan church exterior, the nave, detail of the mosaic above the main altar, Rev Rob Rhodes (Associate Rector at St Paul’s) celebrating Mass in the Elijah side chapel, the detail of Moses above the altar in the other side chapel, and a view from the church to the valley below. 
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 It became clear I wasn’t alone finding myself in awe to be standing for the first time in a place Jesus walked.  Through our shared liturgy, we became a transformed gathering of pilgrims, shedding any tourist-identity we still had tagging along.  Jesus reveals himself to us – sometimes in dazzling white – and sometimes asks us to hold that in our hearts until the time is right.  I hold this experience in my heart and know that I will have the skill and insight to share it in the right way when the time is right.  We as a group see ourselves differently as well, transformed by the experience.  We went up the mount perhaps a group of tourists and came down a community of pilgrims.  This is a fitting beginning.

 Growing up Camp Filed, the former Catholic Youth Organization (CYO) summer camp and retreat where Sleeping Lady Conference Center is now outside Leavenworth, Washington, was very important to me and my family.  Thus beginning at Mount Tabor was particularly poignant for me as the Chapel at Camp Field was the Chapel of the Transfiguration and I had occasion to remember dear friends in my prayers there this afternoon.

Remembering where we come from and entering into a spirit of pilgrimage, its been a good day.

 

Day Two: Newark. 

We arrived in Newark at 7am after a relatively short and uneventful flight across the country. With a 9-hour layover ahead of us, we went our various ways: some went into the city, some to a hotel room for a shower and a nap, some relaxed in the airport’s Meditation Room, and others wandered the airport, in search of breakfast and then lunch.

The Newark Airport is fairly new and completely automated, especially when it comes to selling just about everything. However, the airport has also adopted the good practice of asking for instant, real-time feedback!


I asked people which button they’d press for today and while most of our pilgrims are sleep-deprived and disappointed not to be closer to the Holy Land, they all said they’d press the yellow button, because the day held difficulties and also much for which to be grateful. Again, like life.

Choose your own adventure: some thoughts on pilgrimage

IMG_1936My summer has definitely had a bit of a pilgrimage theme. A mini-pilgrimage I was privileged to make earlier this week with my son has me reflecting on the whole idea of pilgrimage. There are many different types of pilgrimage; one could of course say there are as many types of pilgrimage as there are pilgrims.

There was our Walk Across England, which was a certain kind of pilgrimage, where the travel itself was certainly more important than the destination. During that walk, I spent some time thinking about my ancestors, the Mayflower Pilgrims, who left this land, already in the 16th century, etched with stone walls and footpaths, for a perilous journey to the New World, where the pilgrimage was not so much about the journey or even the destination as it was about escaping a certain life in exchange for an uncertain one in an unknown place.

There is the pilgrimage described in the novel I just read, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. Like some great memoirs old and new, this fictional story recounts two distinct pilgrimages in parallel: the outer journey to a particular destination and the inward journey backwards and forwards through one’s own uniquely challenging life. Perhaps all pilgrimage has this outer, geographical component as well as the inner component.

Durham CathedralThere are pilgrimages to famous sites: Canterbury, Santiago de Campostela, Mecca, places hallowed by history and places to which, presumably, a pilgrim connects through their own history, their faith, their heart. A few weeks ago I visited Durham Cathedral and the popular Shrine of St. Cuthbert, a pilgrimage site for many over the centuries.

Last night, my family and I got together with a friend who leads pilgrimages through the Holy Land. He and his wife spoke very movingly about how their everyday Christian experience which they had long taken for granted – saying or attending mass, praying certain prayers, participating in baptism – had been transformed for all time by being in those ancient holy places.

IMG_1942A few days ago, my 16-year-old son and I journeyed from London by train and then bus to the little Sussex village of Hartfield, where we made our way on foot through rolling sheep fields, along narrow, wooded lanes, passing several farms-turned-luxury homes, through the Hundred Acre Wood to the Pooh Bridge. This was clearly a pilgrimage site like all the others, complete with advance instructions that if one wanted to play a game of Pooh Sticks, one needed to pick up a stick along the path out of town, because the trees and ground around the bridge had been completely picked bare of any suitable branches or twigs.

IMG_1941As we left the bridge we saw a little shrine in a hollow tree where people had left small pots of honey and notes to Pooh, as well as a note from Pooh apologizing for not writing thank-you notes, because he was, of course, “a bear of very little brain.”

This was clearly a pilgrimage site as much as any other. My son has a lasting, personal connection, through his own story and his own heart, to the place and the literary history shared by millions around the globe. That mix of the personal and, depending on one’s perspective, the universal makes the Hundred-Acre Wood and the Pooh Bridge holy land.

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My son’s connection to the story and the place is his own to tell (or not), but the pilgrimage experience in all its forms is ours for the taking. What’s your pilgrimage story? Where have your been, or where do you want to go?

nathan hundred acre wood