A Mystery of Pilgrimage

When the sun rose over the Mount of Olives this morning, it shone on a sleepy Jerusalem.  Only a few cars were traveling on the well kept, modern roads of the "New City" in Jerusalem.  But my eyes lingered only briefly on the new before seeking out the shapes of buildings in the "Old City", seeking buildings which by their prominence might speak of the glory they hide within. 

As we walked downhill to Mass at the Church of St. Anne, mother of Mary, the narrow streets grew increasingly busy, and the close shops obscured the flow of the land and quickly rendered our location a mystery.  Happy God-incidence left us walking the Via Dolorosa, the sorrowful path of Our Lord as he traveled from his place of condemnation before Pilate to Golgotha, now shrouded by the Church of the Holy Sepulcher like a stone burial cloth.   

Yet, as we walked it became clear that we were walking the Via Dolorosa in reverse; past the fourth station, then the third, then under the arch that marks where Pilate said, "Ecce Homo", that is, "Behold, the man", and finally past the first station to arrive in front of an unassuming limestone wall with a gate and an inscription above it, "Church of St. Anne." 

Here it is believed that St. Anne gave birth to Mary, who in turn gave birth to the God-Man.  And here one corner of the veil of mystery was lifted.  We had begun our Pilgrimage contemplating the birth of Jesus, then spent several weeks meditating on his ministry and life. And when we think we are ready to jump headfirst into the mystery Our Lord's passion, death and resurrection, He brings us back to an Immaculate beginning.  The second to last "Yes" in a long chain of "Yes-es".  Followed by the final "Yes" that the world was waiting for: new birth, new life, eternally. 

It was as though Jesus was saying, "You can walk the path I walked...but remember that my Mother came to comfort me and strengthen me as I dragged the heavy cross across cobbled streets and up the steep hill.  She is ready to comfort and strengthen you as you pick up your cross." 

Fittingly, we sang a solemn Salve before we left the birthplace of Mary; "Hail Queen, mother of mercy."  Then for the first time we began to walk the Via Dolorosa, our footsteps sounding confident as we traveled in the right direction.