The Choice to Love

            As darkness deepened in the valley, a small group descends from the city into a well known grove of olive trees.  As most of the group stops, four of them continue a short ways on alone.  Then a solitary figure walks on to a rock outcropping and falls forward in prayer.  This is the moment of decision, and in this moment, we see the true depth of love.

            The Garden of Gethsemane stands a few hundred yards from the eastern gate of the Old City of Jerusalem, which is now called St. Stephen’s Gate.  It is here that Jesus asked His Father if there was another way, any way, other than the agony of the Passion.  Yet in this moment we see Jesus’ resolve to do the will of His Father, for in the same breath He says, “not as I will, but as thou wilt.” (Matthew 26:39).  This is the place of complete surrender.  Jesus, who is both fully God and fully man, shows us both His humanity in His desire to escape the agony and death that awaits Him and His divinity which is completely in line with the will of God.  The Cross was not something forced upon Christ from a harsh and judging God.  The Cross is God coming down and choosing to place Himself on the Cross for us.  By entering into the depths of our humanity, God frees us for new life in and through Him.  The only explanation for this is complete and utter love, the love of God for us.

            Such a love asks us if we are willing to respond.  When someone does a loving act for us, the only appropriate response is an act of love in return.  Anything less is hollow and demonstrates selfishness on our part.  But a loving act in return, an act of reciprocating love, shows our desire to truly be united with the one who loves us.  Gethsemane is for us also a place of decision, a place where a choice is made.  Jesus loved His Father and us with everything He had, to the end.  Will we love Him with the same love, with everything we have, to the end?

The Beginnings of Peace

Winding streets, narrow water channels, underground tunnels, ancient fortresses and wide open spaces in the middle of a crowded city.  The Old City of Jerusalem, the City of David, and the Temple Mount, respectively are all places which we visited today.  By now we have all been in the Old City plenty of times, exploring its maze-like streets, the innumerable nooks and crannies, and the places that memorialize what Jesus did here.  But the Temple Mount, that was a new experience for most of us; it was a place we had only seen from a distance.  Of course, we have all seen the Dome of the Rock, or the Golden Dome as it is also called, dominating the landscape of the Mount, but we hadn’t been up to the place itself to see, up close, the building that was raised over 1300 years ago by the victorious Arab Muslim leadership.

In the midst of all this there is, somehow, a peace of sorts in Jerusalem.  Muslims, Christians, Jews and the ever-present stream of tourists and pilgrims manage to more or less get along here.  Which makes me wonder: what does real co-existence look like?  What does real tolerance look like?  Does it merely consist in saying something like: “I’m okay, you’re okay, let’s be friends”?  Or perhaps, “I’m right, you’re wrong, let’s get along”?  Or, “I don’t like you, you don’t like me, let’s do business together”?  Is there something more we can say, some firm foundation upon which to build lasting peace, enduring co-existence, and authentic tolerance?

To find our firm foundation, maybe we could look to Jerusalem.  True, over the centuries and the millennia many wars have been fought here, much blood has been shed in the name of religion or perhaps to stamp out one group or another.  But yet if we look closely we see the seeds of peace sown in the hearts of the faithful.  Each of us, Jews, Christians, Muslims, believe in a God that we cannot see, who has created the brother and sister whom we can see.  “For whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20).  “You shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD” (Lev 19:18).  "O mankind! We created you from a male and a female and made you into nations and tribes that you may know and honor each other (not that you should despise one another). Indeed the most honorable of you in the sight of God is the most righteous." (Quran, 49:13). May this shared belief be our firm foundation, may these shared values be the beginning of a lasting peace.

We are Pilgrims on a Journey

         Today is our first full day back in Jerusalem after our trip to Jordan.  Today was actually a free day for us to recover from the Jordanian trip, to catch up on journal writing or homework, or to just explore the city.  One of the things many of us spent time doing today was catching up on email or other communications with our friends and family back home.  We find ourselves being asked about schedules and other obligations when we return home in just a few short weeks.  While beginning to look to the future, one thing is clear: our pilgrimage is rapidly reaching its conclusion.  Or is it?

        Not wanting to neglect the duties we have at home, it is important to also remember that our pilgrimage continues.  This is not time to simply check out and look forward to what comes next.  God is still working in and through us on this pilgrimage and is asking us to remain attentive to the here and now.  That is one of the principle points of a pilgrimage: being open to what is occurring now and seeing how it helps us live a more authentic Christian life.  At Mass by the banks of the Jordan River, the site of the Baptism of Jesus, the celebrant reminded us that, as Christians, our life here on earth is nothing but a pilgrimage.  The ultimate goal of this pilgrimage is life with God.  Danielle Rose, a Christian singer-songwriter, once wrote a song entitled 'See You in the Eucharist.'  Towards the end of the song she says:

"We are pilgrims on a journey

We are headed for the throne

Carried on the wings of angels

Oh we do not walk alone

All our prayers we lay before Him

And His grace will pave the way

To lead us to our one true home

Where we'll see each other face to face."

This pilgrimage should remind all of us that, as Christians, we are always called to seek God.  We are called to imitate Jesus and be led by the Holy Spirit to see the Father face to face.  While our pilgrimage to the Holy Land is drawing to a close, our pilgrimage as Christians will continue long afterwards.

The Temple of the Heart

As we awoke this morning in Amman, we began our last day in Jordan.  This day was dedicated to visiting the site of the ancient Roman city of Jerash.  The uniqueness of this site is due to its level of preservation and its massive scale.  For two hours we walked through relatively intact arches, temples and markets.  It was not difficult for the imagination to enter into life at the peak of this city.

One fascinating aspect of our experience was seeing the juxtaposition of paganism and Christianity.  While one moment we were walking through the temple of Zeus or Artemis, in the next we were captivated by the mosaic on the floor of one of three Christian basilicas.  This clearly demonstrates the evolution of this city from paganism to Christianity during the early centuries after Christ.  It would have been easy to be drawn into the uniqueness of this site from an archeological or historical perspective.  I think, however, there was an important spiritual lesson here for all of us who walked through these ruins.

Just as in Jerash there are, within our hearts, pagan temples next to Christian temples. In other words, we are all in need of continual conversion.  The spiritual life is one of constant attention to tearing down these false temples of self-interest and selfishness, and allowing the great temple of the Holy Spirit to be more and more glorious.  We will never be perfect this side of heaven but, with God's grace, those pagan temples will eventually fall into ruins.  The spiritual life is a journey, a gradual progression towards God.  And, in the end, we will dwell forever in the Lord's temple and He will dwell within the temple of our heart.

The Beginning of our Pilgrimage

This afternoon we had the opportunity to celebrate Mass near the site of the Baptism of our Lord beside the Jordon River. Our celebrant Abbot Thomas, our in-house spiritual father, did a wonderful job of connecting the meaning of the site to our lives. He connected it both to our lives here on pilgrimage in the Holy Land and also to our lives back home.

We started by renewing our Baptismal promises, just as we do each Easter. As the group was finishing the renewal the sun came out from behind the clouds and shone on us for the rest of the Mass. Fr. Thomas used his homily to demonstrate how that renewal of the Baptismal promises is for us and for every Christian a renewal of our role as pilgrim. We here are physically living out the life of a pilgrim, but that physical manifestation will stop when our plane lands back in Chicago under a month from now. Yet our spiritual pilgrimage, and that of all those who have journeyed with us through this blog and in prayer continues past our return. Through Baptism we entered into the life, death, and resurrection of Christ and became members of his mystical body, the Church. Our life here is therefore not our own. Nor is our life here on Earth meant to be fulfilled and complete.  We are meant for something greater.  In Baptism we were made pilgrims here on Earth who journey towards the rewards of Heaven. As Vatican Council II taught in Lumen Gentium: we are “[o]n Earth, still as pilgrims in a strange land.”

The Gift of Adventure

As part of our journey, we went to Petra, Jordan. This experience was one of the most memorable experiences for me during our pilgrimage. Petra is said to be one of the greatest archaeological treasures in the world. It is filled with multicolored sandstone mountains in a secluded site of steep rocky slopes, high cliffs, and soaring mountain tops. Amidst these beautiful natural wonders is an ancient city carved into solid rock by ancient an Arab tribe called the Nabataeans over 2200 years ago. Although the Nabataean kingdom was powerful, they were eventually annexed to the Roman Empire in AD 106. 

As we made our way through the gate of Petra I was in awe. The ancient main entrance is a long narrow gorge of magnificent beauty. It is like walking through a narrow canyon with high rock walls. On the walls are several bizarre looking geological formations. After entering the gate we were shown many caves that decorated the rock walls. These caves had carved entrances and were used by the Nabateans as tombs. The largest of the royal tombs has a main chamber of 17 X 18.9 m in size. We also saw the tomb of Sextius Florentinus who was the Roman governor of the province of Arabia. Among other interesting Nabatean structures which were carved into the rock were a high place of sacrifice where religious ceremonies took place honoring Nabataean gods, an ancient theatre and a colonnaded street.

While we saw many amazing things at Petra, I would say the most memorable experience was my climb to the Ad-Dier Monastery and the rain storm we encountered on the way down. The Ad-Deir Monastery is a large structure up a mountain that was used by the Nabataeans as a either a tomb or temple, or possibly both. It was later used as a church in the Byzantine era. In order to see the structure we had to climb a flight of 800 stairs up a mountain. It looked like it was going to rain and it was a very cold day. Some of the other seminarians decided to go. Others decided not to. I debated whether I should make the pilgrimage up the mountain, but decided to go. It was an amazing experience. I went alone but met some of the other seminarians at the top. On the way up I somehow got lost from the stairs that were carved out of the rock. At one point I heard a voice yelling to me, telling me which way to go. I would later find out that this person was a Bedouin, a person who was born and raised in the caves of the area. I spoke to this person and had tea with a Bedouin family. I soon learned that several Bedouin families live among the caves of the area.

After getting to the top of the mountain and seeing the monastery, the rain began to come down. The other seminarians and I made our way down the mountain as fast as we could, but we soon were caught in a massive rain storm. We had about three miles to hike back to the bus. As I made my way through the canyon I got soaked. The narrow way that we had to walk was filling with water, looking like a river! Waterfalls were forming on the sides of the high rock walls and pouring into the canyon. The wind was soaring through the canyon. It was so cold that my brain felt numb. When I finally got back to the bus with my seminarian brothers, I was very relieved. I was cold and soaked, but I was on my way back to the warm place where we were staying.

Although our visit to Petra was not explicitly religious, it is an event that I will always remember. It was an adventure of high magnitude that taught me new things about our mysterious world. Life is filled with so much natural beauty, magnificent history, and amazing cultures. May we each come to learn more about our world and be open to the many adventures we encounter.

Workers, not Builders

“We may never see the end result. But that is the difference between master builders and workers. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs; we are prophets of a future not our own.” – Archbishop Oscar Romero Prophets of a Future not Our Own

            Throughout this pilgrimage we have visited various sites within the Holy Land. Today we began our brief journey into Jordan. We visited Mount Nebo, the place across the Jordan River where Moses saw the Promised Land. We were privileged to be able to celebrate Mass at the chapel atop the mountain. The view was quite remarkable, from the top of the mountain one could see the northern shore of the Dead Sea, the Jordan River, Jericho and the hills of Judea near Jerusalem. On a clearer day one can apparently see the city of Jerusalem from atop of this mountain. During the homily, the celebrant discussed the fact that Moses was brought to Mount Nebo in order to view the promised land, but told that he would die before he could enter it (Deut 32:48-52, 34:1-6). The theme of the homily was that we like Moses, must surrender ourselves to God’s plan and remember that we are but an instrument that God uses in order to carry out his plan of creation.

            I was reflecting upon this theme during our Mass on Mount Nebo. It occurred to me, as I had been with the group that celebrated Mass at the Holy Sepulcher yesterday, that our Promised Land is not an earthly city but a heavenly dwelling in the presence of God. This Promised Land is not anything which can be imagined in this earthly life. Rather, this earthly life exists in order to bring about God’s will in creation and to prepare us for the eternal Promised Land which awaits us in heaven. The work of building up this kingdom, which is ultimately God’s work, is a work which has existed before us and will continue to be perfected after we depart from this earthly life. Like Moses, we are called to help build up God’s creation, but we will ultimately leave much undone for it is not our project, but God’s creative action in which we can only cooperate in.

            It is Christ’s life, death and resurrection which have ultimately brought about the redemption of the entire created order. The only way in which we can enter into the eternal kingdom which God has promised us is to enter into the mystery of death and resurrection. It is this ultimate surrender to our independence, however illusory, and to everything which we have known which allows God to finish the work of perfecting us and bringing us into heaven. It is this eternal mystery which we enter into at every Mass. It is this eternal mystery which we have been blessed to enter into at such places as the Holy Sepulcher and Mount Nebo. It is this eternal mystery in which we must continue to immerse ourselves until our master builder summons us to himself.