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As young people
return home from an invigorating World Youth Day in Rio, and as
pilgrims trod the historic path of St. James, and as student groups return from pilgrimages within Canada, these mid-summer
months seem conducive to a look at the hallowed Jesuit tradition of
“the pilgrimage”. What follows is an account of this
author’s first Ignatian pilgrimage, an eight-day foot-journey
undertaken when he was a resident student of the Casa Balthasar in Rome.
The idea of making a
pilgrimage, that is, journeying to some place of spiritual
significance, is commonly understood by Catholics and non-Catholics
alike, but as to what may entail an ‘Ignatian pilgrimage’, would
require further explanation. Such a pilgrimage is taken after the
example of that perennial pilgrim, St. Ignatius of Loyola, who
himself followed those first disciples of Our Lord (Mt
10:5-16, Mk 6:7-13, Lk 9:1-6), who were sent to preach without any provisions, to rely on whatever God would provide for them. Therefore it was
in this ‘Ignatian’ spirit of trusting in Divine Providence, that
a pair of students from the Casa Balthasar set out for eight full
days without money, though with a razor and a toothbrush between
them. This was also going to be an exercise in pushing the limits of
one’s comfort zone.
After having trod the
streets of Jesi for some time, they met a husband and wife who
were overseeing a kitchen for the disadvantaged (including in this case, our
young pilgrims), and were given a warm supper and then, to their
surprise, lodging at a local hostel, paid for by the couple. This
proved to be a type of leitmotiv running through the length of the
pilgrimage: a sense of acute vulnerability and even emptiness
was often ministered to in unexpected ways, instilling wonder in their spirits in the face of such generosity.
The life of the poor
pilgrim is not only one of simple joys, such as receiving from the
goodness of others, nor that free feeling of being on the ‘open
road’, but a certain humility in having to beg for
one’s ‘daily bread’ and to accept matters when requests are
turned down. After that first comfortable night in Jesi, the pilgrims
experienced the desolation of having nowhere to sleep the second
night, after having walked to the next town in the Italian
countryside. So they continued to walk in pitch darkness, and
eventually attempted to sleep on a piece of grassy slope beside the
road. While the night was fairly warm, the incessant activity of
insects and bugs kept them from sleeping soundly.
They woke the next morning
to the sound of roosters crowing, and continued their trek in the now
blistering sun. The day was to grant special insight into the
hospitality of parish priests in that part of the world. One elderly priest greeted them at the door; with cassock and soutane, he appeared as if from another time there in the cobbled streets of a hilltop village. He allowed these two complete (and by now a bit scruffy) strangers into his home, eating with them and giving them rooms to sleep in. It was revealed he had been the pastor of that parish for more than 50 years!
Through all these
contrasting shades of experience, the pilgrims sought to maintain
their mutual co-operation and hope in the benevolence of God. At the
end of the third day, they found accommodation at a friary in the
town of Osimo (the resting-place of St. Joseph of Cupertino, the
‘flying friar’ of levitation fame). Among the narrow streets of
the medieval city, they spotted an open door with the inviting sounds
of festivity within. It turned out to be a parish centre, which was currently
holding a party for its youth group, primarily composed of immigrant
children. The two pilgrims (also technically
immigrants) were invited to join the feasting and games of ping-pong and
foosball that were being played with gusto. A component of the
Ignatian pilgrimage is to look for opportunities to serve the local
community hosting you, even if that simply means joining youth in
their games; indeed, the next day they would play basketball at a public park in
Osimo. A different type of service was on offer at the next port of
call, the Marian sanctuary of Campocavallo, the pair were
commissioned to dust and re-order an entire library for a small
community of Franciscans, in exchange for room and board – a
welcome bit of indoor labour.
By the end of the week,
the two men again were asked to feel the discomfort of the
road, when at Castelfidardo (the last stop before Loreto) they met
little success finding shelter and food, but were given the donation
of two cartons of milk and an industrial sized packet of biscuits.
Homeless, but thus fortified, the intrepid pilgrims decided to make for their destination, even though it meant arriving in Loreto after dark. They strode towards
the town in the dim light of the evening, the basilica of
Loreto already visible on its mountain in the distance.
Exterior of Santa Casa (3.bp.blogspot.com)
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When they arrived in
Loreto, the pilgrims found that the hostels were like five-star
hotels, and cost accordingly. Nobody could give them room free of charge. So they wandered back into the dark.
Their beds that night were a couple of park benches, and after having
awoken with the dawn chorus of birds, they made their way to the
basilica. Inside it rests the tiny ‘Santa Casa’ (Holy House),
believed to be the home where Mary dwelt in Nazareth. The structure
is composed of 2000-year old bricks with tiny windows, and was
transported to Italy during one of the Crusades, allegedly in some kind of
miraculous or semi-miraculous fashion across the Mediterranean Sea.
The awe-inspiring significance of this small atmospheric house was
underlined by the Latin words inscribed above the altar within: HIC VERBUM CARO
FACTUM EST (“Here the Word was made flesh”). The pilgrims sat on the floor and prayed.
Interior of the Santa Casa, Loreto
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They remained in
Loreto for two nights. They were eventually given the floor of a
parish hall to sleep on (plus carpet for bedding) by a priest who was a bit
concerned about the sunburn on one of them. Then, spiritually
reinvigorated, they returned by train to
Rome, after what had truly been a poignant finale to their year’s
formation at the Casa Balthasar, having experienced the profoundly
incarnate realism of an Ignatian spirituality.
John O’Brien joined
the Society of Jesus shortly after this pilgrimage, while his
travelling companion, Jonathon Rollinson, joined the Benedictine
community of Belmont Abbey in England.
That was a 'life' tale vividly told ... reads like out of a novel ... I very much enjoyed reading it. What strikes me was the act of surrendering. As to why one protagonist chose the Jesuit order and the other, Benedictine, ... wouldn't that be another tale to be told?
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