galilee3

restart 18.6.06

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Easter morning


Easter Morning

In the distance I see the twin towers of a large neogothic church. Behind the towers the green and purple mountains contrast with the white and grey clouds moving slowly through the blue sky (painting colours). In front of the church there are rocks almost hiding a grotto. Yes we are in Lourdes. We are pilgrims, together to celebrate the Holy Week.

Thousands of pilgrims are standing on a huge lawn separated from the grotto by the fast running waters of a river. I see that the pilgrims are gathered in-groups of about seventy. Our group is asked to form a circle. About a third of the circle is made up by intellectually handicapped people. We are told that, because it is Good Friday, we are going to do the Stations of the Cross. But there are no statues or pictures to help us visually with this pilgrimage of
Jesus. So we mime.

First station, Jesus is condemned to die. One of the handicapped people is asked to stand in the middle of the circle. There he is," Ecce Homo, see the
Man." Because of his handicap he is not wanted, worse he is condemned to be an outsider, an outlaw. In our society these people should stay away; they are an embarrassment. So they are rejected; no one wants to befriend them, like Jesus was condemned. We sang, "The Lord hears the cry of the poor". This mime is real. A quiet prayer and a tear, and we move on a bit further to the next station, singing, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

The pilgrims mime other stations. One of them is when one of the handicapped pilgrims is in a wheelchair. Another, named Simon, is asked to push the wheelchair. He thinks," If my neighbours see me, I'll never live it down."
Some bystanders think, "You don’t get involved; you don’t stick you neck out for these handicapped guys". We sing, "The Lord hears the cry.."

On we went. A handicapped woman falls. She got tired of following. These people are like seaweed, that is bent this way and that, with every surge of water, finally tossed up useless. But we ourselves are not equal to the task and we fall. "The Lord hears.."
Jesus dies on the cross. All the handicapped people stand in the middle of the circle. All the others in the circle are facing outward, with their backs to the middle, to the cross. Look at Him, cut down like weeds, in the hospital, at the birth. Totally abandoned. In the newspapers the number of times he is murdered each day. "As long as you did it to one of these, you did it to Me."
The handicapped people teach us that the darkness of the soul and doubt are a poverty of imagination on our part to know God. But.. "The Lord hears the cry of the poor." "Jesus, remember me…."

The pilgrims, all of them carrying little crosses, walk slowly across the bridge towards the Grotto. Mary knows pain because she was a pilgrim once.

Easter morning.
The early morning sun is pushing away dark clouds. The foreground is still covered in the red shade of Good Friday. The hills are now turning green and there, slowly the basilica is surrounded with soft light. Only a few people are walking around. A quiet morning, still and promising. (More colours I will use in my Jerusalem painting)
When the towers are fully visible the sounds of the bells fill the air and soon more people appear, all walking towards the great doors of the basilica.

Our group of pilgrims is asked to go the crypt of the big church for the 8.30 Mass. The leader went ahead to prepare the altar. But suddenly another priest, a German, arrived and took over. Our leader is told to go to another church, St Joseph’s. There will be a Mass at 9.00 for English pilgrims. The stream of our pilgrims has to be turned back. We are told to gather at St Joseph’s for the 10.00 Mass. Ten minutes before ten o’clock our leader meets a Greek priest with silver vestments and large book and is told that at ten o’clock the Easter Mass will be in Greek.

There we were, on Easter morning, with no church to go to. "Where is Jesus?" One of the handicapped pilgrims, a woman, said that Jesus was alive and was waiting for us in the upper room. "Which upper room?" "We have an upper room in our hotel" one said. Very confused, we left the Sanctuary, the sacred pilgrims’ place, and after quite a walk we gathered in the lounge of our hotel, which had a split- level floor. We huddled together, all seventy of us, anxious what was going to happen. The handicapped woman cried out, " Don’t you know that Jesus is alive and he is here!" Slowly we believed and started to sing Alleluia.

That’s how we started the Easter Mass. We heard the story again and it was like he promised. What a celebration! We broke the Bread again and recognised Jesus in one another. "Peace be with you," we said to each other.

On this Easter morning, walking back to the church we told people what happened on the road. Many believed. Our pilgrimage was complete. "But, was it?" "No, we have to journey on and pass on the Easter story".

We are pilgrims who will see, while walking along other people’s roads, the darkness of life in the pain, despair, poverty and death. The emptiness of the modern world that does not see behind the gates of mental hospitals or behind the doors of handicapped people. There are still many closed or half-open doors. But Jesus had a place in his heart for the divorced Samaritan, the good thief and for those who crucified him too.

Then on Easter morning he greeted Mary Magdalene. He walked along with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. He had breakfast with Peter on the lakeside of Galilee. He promised all of us his lifegiving Spirit.
He walks with every pilgrim who is prepared to move with him, step for step, showing to each pilgrim, "Look, there are my friends, the little ones and disadvantaged. Teach them a love song and learn from them the gift of laughter. Show them the blossoming Cross, the light of new life."

Jesus still walks the streets and knows
It is us he needs to live as pilgrims
Knowing that he is alive.
"Peace to all."

Enjoy my painting "Easter Morning" in Jerusalem on the Wanganui River,
And a Happy Easter, 2008

John Heijnen

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