#st clare

My mind has been racing all day.  I had a lot of work at work to get done before I left that I was so focused on it I didn’t let it sink in until later that I was leaving for my pilgrimage tomorrow (well, today).  I left work at 7:30ish to go pick up some postcards I had made as a swap item and then went to Panera’s to pick up dinner.  On my way to Panera’s, I realized that this is it. 

I was at the threshold.  

On Thursday, July 21, I would depart for a journey I’ve been preparing for for 3 years.  I ordered my food, sat down, and texted my best friend, “I’m sitting at Panera on the verge of tears (both from exhaustion from a long day, but also because it’s finally here).”  I got my food, went back to my car, and the tears started coming.  I’m not sure why, but I had this overwhelming feeling of joy and wonder.  

If I think I was ever called to be anything in my life, it is to be a pilgrim. 

To take that first step.  To see that first sight.  To meet that first person.  I can’t wait.  

First stop, Chicago, and then off to Berlin to catch a flight to Rome and then a bus to Assisi.  

Follow along with me here, as well as on facebook,twitter, and Instagram.  Heck, I might even do this whole snapchat thing (add me: mynameis_vicky )

Last time I was in Assisi, I took a picture of this walkway.  St. Clare walked on this path to the Portiuncula, the first church St. Francis rebuilt.  There, Clare renounced her secular life, cut off her hair and in turn her family times, and declared that she wanted to live for God and serve God’s people.  

Like I mentioned in my previous post, one of the things a person can receive while on a pilgrimage is the gift of community.  The friends and family members who send you off, the people you meet when you arrive at your destination, the kind shop keeper you turn to when you are looking for a meal, the person in front of you in a line, the choir you listen to when you attend a religious service.  They are all part of your community on pilgrimage.  

For World Youth Day, I thankfully get to experience it with a community that means a lot to me: members of the Diocese of Gary, IN.  Gary has been my home diocese forever.  Even when I was attending college in Indianapolis, I was proud to say that I belonged to the Indiana diocese next to Lake Michigan.  For those not familiar with the Diocese of Gary, founded in 1956, we are the smallest diocese in Indiana, comprising of four counties in Northwest Indiana.  In our fifty years of foundation, we’ve had four bishops and have seen the Region, as Northwest Indiana is locally called, experience joys and sorrows.  We’ve seen the growth and prosperity of the steel mills and farming communities, and then the closing of the steel mills, poverty, and racism.  The Church of Gary has attempted to help in each of those situations, attempting to address the sin of racism through reconciliation, supporting Catholic Charities, and being the largest supporter of Habitat for Humanity in the area.   

Patrons of the Diocese of Gary, the Holy Angels.  This icon is located in the Cathedral in Gary.  

If your local parish is like your immediate family, your diocese is your extended family.  At least, that’s how I feel about the good ol’ D. o. G.  I love my home parish deeply and am happy to continue to build up it’s walls.  But I also love the moments when the whole extended family gets together to celebrate.  My love story with the Diocese began when I was in high school.  I attended a diocesan retreat and my eyes were opened to the experience of a larger Catholic church.  

The following year, my sister and I signed up to go to this thing call World Youth Day in Toronto.  We went with two others from my parish and a few bus loads of pilgrims from the diocese.  It was brutal travel (9 hours on a bus while fellow passengers sang songs from Veggie Tales nonstop; It’s enough to make you want to throw the elusive hair brush they were singing about at them), rustic accommodations (sleeping on the floor of a school classroom with only a light sheet as your bed and using a shower a hose over the side of a large wooden box to bath in), and even getting some of our belongings stolen (thieves broke into where we were staying and stole some of our possessions, like cameras).  But even then, we had each other.  During one of the The catechetical sessions at the beginning of the day, Bishop Dale Melczek, now the Bishop Emeritus of the Diocese of Gary, raffled off a medal that was given by Pope John Paul II to each of the bishops who attended that WYD as a way of trying to give back something that was taken from us.  Other members from the diocese left messages of hope and encouragement on our pillows to try to bring a smile to our faces.  We found each other walking around in a sea of strangers and smiled.  We met new people who became traveling buddies and later dear friends.  We shared pillows and tarps and pizza when we were sleeping outside during the biggest slumber party I’ve ever attended.  We hugged and rejoiced together when we saw, now Saint John Paul II pass us in the Pope mobil on his way to celebrate Mass with over a million people.  We slept on each other’s shoulders on the bus home.  

My sister, Gina (second from the left), expressing the emotion we felt after John Paul II passed us. We we not smiling because we got the picture we wanted, but because we experienced something that’s hard to put into words. 

After that, I was kind of hooked.  I loved being able to go to different masses throughout the diocese and seeing a friendly face.  During my junior and senior year of high school, I served on the diocesan youth council and helped out with a diocesan youth conference.  I became even more familiar with my peers in other parishes and found mentors in the adults who served the youth.  Those people are still some of the people I turn to for advice and wisdom.  I’m still friends with some of those high school peers.  They have been a constant in my life that I am so thankful for.  

This past weekend (5/21/16), some of the pilgrims from the Diocese came together to pray and prepare for the upcoming trip.  We gathered at the beautiful Shrine of Christ’s Passion in St. John, Indiana to walk the Stations of the Cross, an act that will be repeated when we pray the Stations with millions of pilgrims during the last night of WYD in Krakow.  

Praying before entering the empty tomb.

It was a beautiful day with lovely weather.  We walked from station to station, reflecting upon the scene in front of us and adding our prayers to those who had also walked along the way.  

Jesus meeting his mother on the way to Calvary.

Each step we took, we were reminded that we are never alone along our journey.  Jesus was never alone.  Soldiers, guards, his mother, friends, strangers, prisoners were all with him.  Our journey was the same.  We had each other, but we also met strangers along the way.  Nuns, priests, children, elders, couples, single people; their paths colliding with ours along the way.  All there for a reason.  All seeing the same story.  All experiencing it a little but different.

A few final thoughts on community:

The more I keep thinking about it, the more I feel our pilgrimage has the theme of community.  Krakow, the host city, is often called the City of Saints, because so many saints and holy people have their roots in the city (It’s also the title of a great book by George Weigel about JPII’s Krakow).  The USA pilgrims are invited to ask St. James the Apostle (patron of pilgrim travelers), St. Kateri Tekakwitha (a young, faithful, Native American who loved her faith), St. Therese of Lisieux (patroness of missionaries and advocate for youth), Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati (man of the beatitudes and patron of young adults), and St. John Paul II (son of Poland and patron of World Youth Day) to pray for us, along with the 8 other saints who have some connection to the city that the international WYD is holding a devotion to.  That’s a lot of people, and I’m so thankful that they have our backs.  

The Gary Delegation is also going to travel to Assisi in Italy, the home of St. Francis and St. Clare.  I’ll write more about that later, but it still has a connection to community.  Both Clare and Francis built communities around helping the poor and relying on the kindness of strangers for their daily needs.  Francis heard his call to “rebuild my Church, for which you see is falling down,” in a little country church.  He was praying in front of an old cross, that is unlike any cross I’ve ever seen before.  If you look at it, you will see something unusual: Jesus isn’t the only person in the picture.  He may be hanging on the cross, but he is surrounded his mother, followers, soldiers, saints, angels, God’s outreaching hand, and even some farm animals.  Francis started his road to sainthood alone, but with a community.  Kind of like a pilgrimage…

Chodźmy! Let’s go! Walk with me?

This is my friend Amanda.  We met when we went to WYD Toronto together.  She’s been a solid rock in my life and I’m so thankful that we are pilgrims together again!