Sr. Marie Therese's reflections on her pilgrimage to the Holy Land: Part 1

             Since the gift of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land this past November 8-17, I will never be the same. In the past when I prayed the Psalms or read or listened to the Epistles and Gospels at Mass, I thought I appreciated them.  However, now that I have followed in the footsteps of Jesus in His earthly life in Bethlehem, Nazareth, and Jerusalem, the words of Scripture have taken on a whole new life.  



Olive tree at the Garden of Gethsemane   

Sycamore tree like Zacchaeus climbed

 Each day of our trip, I was surprised to come upon places and things that Jesus saw and the evangelists described. Now I know what the sycamore tree that Zacchaeus climbed and the olive trees in the Garden of Gethsemane looked like. Sitting in a small ferry boat, I felt the breeze blow gently on the Sea of Galilee. Very early before the shops opened, I helped to carry a large wooden cross from one station to the next along the narrow Way of the Cross. In Jericho I rode in a red cable car up to the Mount where Jesus, fasting, withstood Satan’s three temptations. I tried to float in the shallow salty waters of the Dead Sea and marveled at the sight of the cave where the Dead Sea Scrolls were first found. 



Cave where Dead Sea Scrolls were found       



             

Sea of Galilee    

            At another level, it is difficult to find words to describe the wonder of being present where Mary said “yes” and the Word was made flesh,  of touching the star that marks the place where Jesus was born and the hole where the cross stood on Calvary where He died. At each holy site, we were privileged to celebrate Mass or to read the Scripture passage that described what happened there. At every opportunity I prayed for all our Visitation families and friends and their intentions.

   

A unique privilege for me was our stop at Ain Karim, where Mary traveled to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Luke’s Gospel says Mary went into the hill country, and not much has changed in that respect. On the late afternoon we retraced the last part of Mary’s journey, I was not sure I would make it up the long hill. Without the help of another kind member of our pilgrimage, I probably would not have reached the top--or gotten safely down the slippery stones when we returned to the bus. But then there it was, the lovely Church of the Visitation. Although it was bright sunlight when we went in, hardly a half hour later it was completely dark and a pale crescent moon was shining!



Ain Karim - Church of the Visitation



 To be continued in the next installment…