Our LONG day up get to Israel is now finally coming to an end. After not sleeping much the last two days, my eyes are struggling to stay open, but I want to make sure that I post these reflection to share and, before I forget. Besides, the 630 wake up call is going to seem early tomorrow morning.
After arriving at Tel Aviv, going through customs and finding our way to the luggage claim, we climbed on a new bus for our drive to Nazareth. That was at least our plan: head straight there after the 45-60 minute drive to Nazareth and then, basically, spend the day relaxing. Father Mark asked to tour guide, Tony a Melkite Catholic of Maltese decent, if we could stop at Emaus, since it was on the way. The pretext was to hold mass there, since we knew we were going to do mass, just not where. It turned out I be providential because the mass and the location were very beautiful.
Emaus, as it turns out is the same location as where the Jews and Abimadel found the tabernacle after it was lost to the Philistines. It is also known for being where our Lord broke bread with two of his disciples after the resurrection and before disappearing. We ended up going to Our Lady of the Arc of the Covenant convent where the Sisters of St Joseph reside. The chapel is a crusades era church with some of the original mosaics still intact. It also has as its sacristy, the house where Abimedel's son lived. Oh, and it also contains the stone where our Lord was standing when he broke bread with his disciples. So we got to consume the broken bread of the Eucharist in which Jesus disappears at the same location in which he broke bread before disappearing.
It was a very moving mass made even more beautiful by Father's wonderful homily. He masterfully tied in our day's events, the location, and the pitstop that we had taken while waiting for the convent to open its doors after the siesta. The guide had us stop at a diner built by Elvis himself. It is now owned by a Jew but contains lost of Elvis memorability, diner style food, and souvenirs. There were lots of pictures snapped with the multiple Elvis statues. In addition to tying in the readings for the day with our lives, Father mentioned how the Holy Land is the true Graceland: instead of merely being the name of Elvis' home, we were in the land full of multiple graces. Between the idea of where we were, being at mass itself, and Father's homily, I was moved to tears by the end of our visit to the convent.
Father then had us stop at the Benedictine monastery which had been built adjacent to the hot springs which gave Emaus it's name. Tony pointed out that one of the Jewish traditions was the Mitzvah, the washing of one's feet after walking across the desert. Jesus and the disciples most likely upon stopping in Emaus would have washed their feet at the hot springs, as would have the many pilgrims later.
The sad part about the story is that when the Muslims invaded the Holy Land they built a mosque right next to the monastery and diverted the waters of the springs, so the location includes the spot where the pilgrims would have entered up to their belly buttons to wash, but no more water is there. It was still a very holy place. The springs do flow at the mosque which still is in place next door. Tony encouraged us to walk to them an sample the fresh running water. I immediately thought how beautiful it would be to hear the call to prayer, the Adhan. Our church still has the beautiful bells, which ring five minutes before mass. I had heard that the Adhan, which is broadcast over loud speakers from the tall minarets on the sides of mosque, is quite beautiful. "Allah Akbar" is chanted "God is good!" So imagine my surprise when, as we started to leave the monastery and walk next door, it began! Maria tried to record it, but couldn't remember how to make a voice recording with her phone and I was too busy making sure that all of the stragglers had left the monastery. We hopefully with have another chance to record it and post here, as it is very moving.
We another chance to hear beautiful chanted prayer after we drove to Bethlehem our next stop. After getting situated in the Franciscan run hotel for pilgrims (where even the Popes had visited because of its proximity immediately adjacent to the Basilica of the Nativity), an adventure itself with the 44 pilgrims and people trying to switch rooms to be of ether as extended family members, we walked to the basilica for a Holy Hour. Father took us down to the site venerated as being the spot where our Lord was born. As Father put it, "You can tell that is the spot because of all of the confusion going on in and around it" the top floor is full of construction, beautiful chandeliers, incense candles, icons, etc. from the various Christian beliefs: Catholic and Orthodox primarily. We then walked down the narrow and steep stairs to the original spot which is even more covered. The room is about 3 by 10 meters, not too big for the multitude of pilgrims who filed down, like us to venerate it. We were in line with others that spoke at least three different languages including the Russian Orthodox who crowed in around and in front of me in the chaotic line (Father's point exactly). They were the ones who started chanting in Russian their prayers of veneration which filled the room. Like the Adhan earlier, it was very moving made more so because of where we were.
We filed out of the site and climbed up the steep stairs on the other side. Maria ended up tripping and falling (she is fine), but everyone else made it out without incident. Adjacent to the basilica is the Church of St Catherine, so we filed over there for a quiet spot to play. As we did, we bumped into some of our stragglers who hadn't pay attention to the "meet in the lobby at 6 to head to the holy hour." I helped point them in the right direction and then joined the others in the chapel of the church.
We prayed there for about 20 minutes when the friars interrupted us to tell Father that we needed to leave as they were going to preach a mission. Father suggested that we return again to the site of the Nativity. What another providential idea. As it turned out, it ended up being essentially just us praying quietly for about the last 10 minutes with only two others filing past. It was very moving to pray in veneration and in silence at the spot where Jesus was born! Even more tears flowed down my face and the face and many of the other pilgrims.
We ended our evening with a fabulous chicken dinner in the dining room of the hotel. All through out the hotel, there are framed pictures of St John Paul the Great and Pope Benedict XVI when they had visited standing in front of a mural. That same mural was at my back as we ate, so we can at least pretend that we ate with the two of them!
Emaus, as it turns out is the same location as where the Jews and Abimadel found the tabernacle after it was lost to the Philistines. It is also known for being where our Lord broke bread with two of his disciples after the resurrection and before disappearing. We ended up going to Our Lady of the Arc of the Covenant convent where the Sisters of St Joseph reside. The chapel is a crusades era church with some of the original mosaics still intact. It also has as its sacristy, the house where Abimedel's son lived. Oh, and it also contains the stone where our Lord was standing when he broke bread with his disciples. So we got to consume the broken bread of the Eucharist in which Jesus disappears at the same location in which he broke bread before disappearing.
It was a very moving mass made even more beautiful by Father's wonderful homily. He masterfully tied in our day's events, the location, and the pitstop that we had taken while waiting for the convent to open its doors after the siesta. The guide had us stop at a diner built by Elvis himself. It is now owned by a Jew but contains lost of Elvis memorability, diner style food, and souvenirs. There were lots of pictures snapped with the multiple Elvis statues. In addition to tying in the readings for the day with our lives, Father mentioned how the Holy Land is the true Graceland: instead of merely being the name of Elvis' home, we were in the land full of multiple graces. Between the idea of where we were, being at mass itself, and Father's homily, I was moved to tears by the end of our visit to the convent.
Father then had us stop at the Benedictine monastery which had been built adjacent to the hot springs which gave Emaus it's name. Tony pointed out that one of the Jewish traditions was the Mitzvah, the washing of one's feet after walking across the desert. Jesus and the disciples most likely upon stopping in Emaus would have washed their feet at the hot springs, as would have the many pilgrims later.
The sad part about the story is that when the Muslims invaded the Holy Land they built a mosque right next to the monastery and diverted the waters of the springs, so the location includes the spot where the pilgrims would have entered up to their belly buttons to wash, but no more water is there. It was still a very holy place. The springs do flow at the mosque which still is in place next door. Tony encouraged us to walk to them an sample the fresh running water. I immediately thought how beautiful it would be to hear the call to prayer, the Adhan. Our church still has the beautiful bells, which ring five minutes before mass. I had heard that the Adhan, which is broadcast over loud speakers from the tall minarets on the sides of mosque, is quite beautiful. "Allah Akbar" is chanted "God is good!" So imagine my surprise when, as we started to leave the monastery and walk next door, it began! Maria tried to record it, but couldn't remember how to make a voice recording with her phone and I was too busy making sure that all of the stragglers had left the monastery. We hopefully with have another chance to record it and post here, as it is very moving.
We another chance to hear beautiful chanted prayer after we drove to Bethlehem our next stop. After getting situated in the Franciscan run hotel for pilgrims (where even the Popes had visited because of its proximity immediately adjacent to the Basilica of the Nativity), an adventure itself with the 44 pilgrims and people trying to switch rooms to be of ether as extended family members, we walked to the basilica for a Holy Hour. Father took us down to the site venerated as being the spot where our Lord was born. As Father put it, "You can tell that is the spot because of all of the confusion going on in and around it" the top floor is full of construction, beautiful chandeliers, incense candles, icons, etc. from the various Christian beliefs: Catholic and Orthodox primarily. We then walked down the narrow and steep stairs to the original spot which is even more covered. The room is about 3 by 10 meters, not too big for the multitude of pilgrims who filed down, like us to venerate it. We were in line with others that spoke at least three different languages including the Russian Orthodox who crowed in around and in front of me in the chaotic line (Father's point exactly). They were the ones who started chanting in Russian their prayers of veneration which filled the room. Like the Adhan earlier, it was very moving made more so because of where we were.
We filed out of the site and climbed up the steep stairs on the other side. Maria ended up tripping and falling (she is fine), but everyone else made it out without incident. Adjacent to the basilica is the Church of St Catherine, so we filed over there for a quiet spot to play. As we did, we bumped into some of our stragglers who hadn't pay attention to the "meet in the lobby at 6 to head to the holy hour." I helped point them in the right direction and then joined the others in the chapel of the church.
We prayed there for about 20 minutes when the friars interrupted us to tell Father that we needed to leave as they were going to preach a mission. Father suggested that we return again to the site of the Nativity. What another providential idea. As it turned out, it ended up being essentially just us praying quietly for about the last 10 minutes with only two others filing past. It was very moving to pray in veneration and in silence at the spot where Jesus was born! Even more tears flowed down my face and the face and many of the other pilgrims.
We ended our evening with a fabulous chicken dinner in the dining room of the hotel. All through out the hotel, there are framed pictures of St John Paul the Great and Pope Benedict XVI when they had visited standing in front of a mural. That same mural was at my back as we ate, so we can at least pretend that we ate with the two of them!