Sermon: Our Pilgrimage to Italy

Sermon: St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, April 9, 2016 

Fr. David, my friend and our parish priest, asked if I would preach on my pilgrimage to Italy, that my friend Scottie and I made during Lent/Holy week. Since returning I have been rereading our blog, looking at pictures and reading the book "The Art of Pilgrimage." I have been foraging for the nuggets in our experience that I hope will be meaningful to those  reading this blog and/or listening on Sunday.

Many, many, years ago I became interested in pilgrimages after reading an article and then a couple of books.  You might say the books spoke to me or called to me. I wanted to go on pilgrimage.  In truth, I had never been around people who went on pilgrimage.  I knew I wanted to do this, but didn't know how or when.  But then I learned, once you set you heart or soul on pilgrimage, the time will come that you must go. My first pilgrimage was to Ireland to see where my great grand fathers had come from, where we still have family, and to learn more about my favorite saints, Patrick and Brigid. At the time I called it a vacation, only later did I understand that this vacation had all the markings of a pilgrimage.

My second pilgrimage was walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, the 500 mile walk in Northern Spain. This walk was with the full intention of being a pilgrim.  It felt a little silly calling ourselves pilgrims or being on pilgrimage..  Our culture does not use these words. But about a week into the pilgrimage my daughter and I were a bit lost and trying to find the path, when Angie said “Look, there are the pilgrims, we need to be over there.” The pilgrimage had sunk in, we now identified ourselves as pilgrims. We had found our people and needed to be one with them.  

In European countries it is not unusual to go on pilgrimage.  It is understood that at some time in your life and perhaps many times in your life you will feel called to go on pilgrimage. In reading "The Art of Pilgrimage"  by Phil Cousineau, I have learned much about pilgrimage and found my experiences validated by the experience of many others.

Phil Cousineau tells us that when we are going on pilgrimage we are seeking something deeper.  It is trans-formative travel to sacred places.

Here are a few quotes from his book.

" Pilgrimage is a way to prove your faith and find answers to your deepest questions".

He tell us:"Something ancient and holy was unfolding all around me.  It was what the wandering pilgrim-poet Basho called a glimpse of the under glimmer of an experience of the deeply real.

And then he says:

" The pilgrim is a wayfarer who longs to endure a difficult journey to reach the sacred center of his or her world, a place made holy by a saint, hero, or god.  Once there the desire is to touch a relic, have a vision, hear an oracle to experience what psychologist Stephen Larsen calls the "irruption of the divine in a three-dimensional place." 

And so it was, we left for pilgrimage: to touch a relic, here an oracle, have a vision and experience an irruption of the divine in a three-dimensional place.  Little did we know that this would really happen.

As all of you know who have spent 20 hours flying by plane, crossing many time zones, not sleeping and then trying to find your hotel in a strange city, that t this is indeed a challenging and exhausting experience. By the time we landed in our hotel, like a true pilgrims, we were weary, hungry and searching. After a rest we left the hotel in search of dinner, but found all restaurants closed, it was siesta time and so we continued in search of the Vatican.  Imagine my surprise when we found a blue sign for pilgrims with a yellow arrow pointing the way to the Pilgrims Office and to the Holy Doors. It was the same kind of sign that guided Angie and I on the Camino.  I had no idea that we would find a similar sign in Rome or that we would be called pilgrims. It was not just my name for this trip anymore we were official pilgrims. Suddenly energized, we followed the signs.  At the pilgrims office we received our tickets for Palm Sunday and were given a leaflet to prepare our hearts to enter the Holy Doors the next day.

A couple weeks before I left two friends, Sue and Ludee told me of the opening of the Holy Door in Rome. Pope Francis has declared this year a Jubilee year. Jubilee years may happen every 25 years or so at the discrediting of the current pope. Pope Francis has declared this Jubilee year a year of Mercy. Pilgrims are told they should make their way to a Holy Door. There are four Holy Doors in Rome where it is traditional for Catholics to make a pildrmage.

By being in Rome this year we were able to participate in the Holy Door sacred ritual.  The leaflet we were given at the Pilgrims Office instructed us to prepare our heart and soul, to be intentional in our act of pilgrimage.  We were to be open to an encounter with the Holy as we approached the Doors.

As we made our way to the Vatican plaza there were yellow arrows pointing us to the beginning of our path. We began the path by going through metal detectors, which seemed a bit unusual.  We stopped to pray for all those we carried with us in our hearts for which we ask for Mercy and healing. As we approached the basilica we were told we could step in to pray where it is quiet. We walk up the ramp, step in front of the Pieta, the statue of Mary holding Jesus by Michelangelo. We prayed the Magnificat and then gaze upon the statue. We then move with the crowd further into St. Peter's. I was confused. Where is the Door? I asked an attendant and he pointed to the glass doors at the ramp where we entered. I turn to Scotti and began to laugh. We had passed through without knowing!  All that preparation, all that anticipation and we were in before we knew it. We quickly went back to the door and started to go out so that we could enter again. The guardian at the Door said “No there is no exit once you are in.”

Inside the door, we are on the verge of giggles.  Scotti, thinking pilgrimage should not mean struggle, says to me “See, no struggle.  That was easy!”

It reminded me of my time in Spain in the beautiful cathedrals. We were told that they were created to give the people the sense of what it would be like in heaven. 

I said to Scotti, perhaps this is the true story. Perhaps when we die we will cross over without even knowing. After all Jesus did die for us so that we are reconciled to God forever. And how easy was that? We crossed over and were surrounded by beauty and there was no going back. 

We spend so much time preparing, trying to be worthy and anticipating union with God.  And yet the door is always open we just have to walk through it. The rest of the day we just kept smiling at our experience and our pleasure.  I think this qualifies as an “irruption of the divine in a three-dimensional place.”

Next we were to touch a relic.  The bones of the disciples St. Peter, Simon the Zealot and Judas Thaddeus are all entombed in the crypt at St. Peter's Basilica.  Praying to the saints or believing that special blessing may come to us when we pray at the bones/ relics of a saint are not part of our tradition.  But after having walked 500 miles to Santiago to end with touching the relics of St. James I have gained appreciation for tradition.  I have become more interested in where the other disciple’s final resting places are and the lives that they led after the death of Jesus. They suffered much to spread the word that we might believe today.  And so I told my friend Bev before leaving, that on this pilgrimage we would be going on a relic tour. 

After spending time marveling at the great basilica, Scotti and I descended into the crypt where many other faithful saints rest, and we took time to pray and to give thanks. This was not the end of our relic tour though, we continued on to Venice where we prayed at San Marcos Basilica and St. Francis Basilica where St. Mark and St. Francis lay.  I don't know if I can explain the feeling or the experience of standing next to these disciples.  It is like bridging time. I was thinking about their life with Jesus and afterward his resurrection. I wonder at all the believers still following in their footsteps after all this time.  Without them, there would be no church today. We were indeed standing on holy ground.

Next we hear an oracle.

If you Google oracle this is what you will find.

1. a person or thing regarded as an infallible authority or guide on something.
2. a response or message given by an oracle, typically one that is ambiguous or obscure.

Palm Sunday we waited with a great crowd of people to worship at the Vatican and to see and listen to Pope Francis. We don't know how many people were there but we heard the plaza of the Vatican can hold 80,000 people.  There were people everywhere, excited, cheering and ready to celebrate Jesus' triumphant entrance into Jerusalem, to share in prayers and communion and hear the words of the Pope. All was quiet as Pope Francis preached about Jesus and the relationship Jesus desires from us. He said:

"The first sign of this love “without end” (Jn 13:1) is the washing of the feet. “The Lord and Master” (Jn 13:14) stoops to His disciples’ feet, as only servants would have done. He shows us by example that we need to allow His love to reach us, a love which bends down to us; we cannot do any less, we cannot love without letting ourselves be loved by Him first, without experiencing His surprising tenderness and without accepting that true love consists in concrete service."

And then he broke from his prepared words and reminds everyone of the need to love and reach out to the refuge.  For the refuge is the stranger that we are all called to welcome.  This message is so relevant with the controversy of the refugees flooding into Europe and our own country from war torn lands in the Middle East, such as Syria. 

To be in the congregation that morning was like being in the presence of a celebrity.  There was so much enthusiasm, with people hanging on his very word.  The crowd was yelling out "We love you papa!” After the service he took off his robes and his miter and descended the steps and stepped into his Pope Mobile, gathering several children with him. He rode through the isles greeting his people over joyed to be with him.  I found myself standing on my chair waving and smiling like the throng of others. It was wonderful to be with so many believers and to witness a great oracle.

And then we experienced the oracle of St. Francis as in his Simple Prayer

Make me a channel of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love,

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

We of course were fairly well versed in St. Francis’ life and works, but were not prepared to have an experience of his life and work from the moment we stepped into the monastery where we stayed in Assisi to the moment the taxi driver dropped us at the train station to leave. The experience of peace and love in that small monastery and in the great Basilica was palpable. The kindness of the inhabitants of the town and the prayers that permeate the very walls provide a visceral level of peace.

The work of our Brother Francis continues in the hearts and minds of the faithful to this day. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims visit Assisi each year and the spirit of the saint continues to speak and call us to love and care for all of God's creation.

Lastly, let me talk about Vision. Our vision, what we saw,  was God made manifest in the work of God’s people.

From the moment we entered the Vatican to boarding the plane for home, our senses were flooded with the images, sculptures, mosaics, Basilicas, tapestries, precious metals shaped into communion vessels, sacred writings, and faithful people making pilgrimages to these holy sites. During our time on pilgrimage we carried with us prayers for people who had lost their faith or who believe in God but not in the divinity of Christ.   Being in a country that is 88% Christian that is rich with shrines and antiquities that bare witness to the life of Christ is like being swaddled in the love of the faith of our fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers.  My friend Scotti says the only way that a 23-year-old Michelangelo could have sculpted the Pieta, (Mary holding Jesus) is to have been inspired.  

 

Everyday the creativity, talent and faith of those who have come before us overwhelmed us. The great basilicas with grand frescoes told the stories of our faith. God made manifest in the works of his people.

My prayer in returning home and my intention in this sermon is that you will find your own pilgrimage.  Allow yourself to see beyond what is directly in front of you. Look more deeply to see what glimmers underneath.  The work of God in the world is everywhere if we have eyes to see. Allow yourself to dream and to search for more meaning. Because the God you are reaching out to, is reaching out to you.