This is part of an ongoing story; if you are just joining the journey, you may want to start at the beginning.
Day 8 – Medjugorje. Easter Monday (4/5)
Day 8 – Medjugorje. Easter Monday (4/5)
We walk to the statue of the Risen Christ this morning before breakfast. It’s a large bronze statue rising out of a large white cross, a bit of a ways behind St. James Church. As we walk toward it I see and feel a strange energy emanating from this statue. I ask if it is human projection energy or the statue itself, and it feels like the statue is generating the energy. When we are close, I notice the liquid coming out of the side of the knee, and how the color of the statue is changing where it is oozing out. This is considered to be one of the miracles here, some holy nectar with healing powers. My step-dad wipes two napkins on it for me. I press my hand to the side of the statue’s leg and immediately feel that sweet grace that I associate with Jesus. I can feel my hand vibrating as we walk away.
***
Our pilgrimage schedule has us up most mornings around 5:30am, and I am enjoying waking up early and walking before breakfast. I feel refreshed as I sit down to our usual morning meal of dark Eastern European bread, cheese, and sliced meat. I am making three wonderful food discoveries at breakfast. One is the coffee; though I don’t normally drink it at home, the thick and rich black coffee mixed with warm milk is dreamy. The others are rosehip jam (wow! Fruity and fragrant!) and Eurocrem, which is chocolate Nutella-type spread and a vanilla spread swirled together. They are both indulgently wonderful on the dark bread. This is a far cry from my breakfasts at home of raw green smoothies!
***
After mass, we have another wonderful lunch at the pension (batter fried fish with potatoes and onions and a fresh green salad), and then we meet at what’s known as “Patrick and Nancy
Patrick is totally open about his life story and his challenges. It’s a classic conversion story – a man who was ruled by his own selfishness and greed one day finds God (and in this case God through Mary), and has a 180 degree turn around. He ends up moving to Medjugorje, becomes a completely devoted Catholic, and uses all the money he made to make this gorgeous retreat center. He heals many of his relationships, discovers new depth and meaning in his marriage, and is now offering his story to others for inspiration.
Patrick’s a great storyteller and he highlights some compelling details as he tells his tale. For example, one day before his call back to God, when one of his sons asked him “What is God, Dad?” Patrick took a $20 bill out of his wallet and said, “See this, son? This is God.” His conversion began because one day he cracked open a book of Mary’s messages from Medjugorje and he read one and only one: “I have come to call the world to conversion for the last time…” Somehow, that little sentence got to him, and it began a domino effect of events, leading him to sell his businesses and start a new life in the church. There are some beautiful themes of rebirth and reconciliation in his story. As I listen to him, I think of a few people who would be fed by hearing his story.
Simultaneously, I am frustrated by parts of his talk. As I find is true in many conversion stories, he is zealous about his faith. He talks in absolutes, because of course he thinks in absolutes and absolutes are what saved him. When he talks about how awful it is that his son baptizes himself as an Anglican instead of a Catholic, my immediate thought is – now, wait a minute – what’s wrong with being Anglican? But the crowd is eating it up. At one moment he points to a mother in the crowd and asks her, “How would you feel if your girls came home Anglican?” The woman just shakes her head. I’m thinking – oh yeah, what a sin that would be. Give me a break.
On the way home, I hear more anti-choice, pro-life rhetoric – not, unfortunately, speaking about the beauty and value of life, but speaking in anger about all those “non-Catholics” who are going against God by not being against abortion. At this point, my tolerance for intolerance has broken. I don’t feel moved to go to mass, so after my parents leave, my frustration finally peaks and I begin to cry and do not stop. After feeling so wide open here in Medjugorje, present in peace and love, and specifically receiving Mary’s message to support people to find their own, individual, and unique way to God, I feel pain for all the Moslems, Methodists, Anglicans, Pagans - basically everyone some Catholics believe are going to hell (i.e., everyone who isn’t Catholic). What I’ve been hearing on this trip is, for me, simply outright discrimination. As beautiful as this place is, it seems to also bring out darkness.
When my parents come home, they try to convince me that Patrick did not mean his statement to be anti-Anglican, he was just emphasizing how he failed as a father to be a spiritual guide. Not being a parent, I hadn’t considered that. I see their point. Simultaneously, I’m extraordinarily skeptical that there is zero judgment in Patrick for others who aren’t Catholic. Given the trend of the zealotry I’ve observed so far, you can imagine my skepticism. My parents then point out that Mary told one of the visionaries that the most holy person in Medjugorje is a young Moslem woman because she has true faith. Well, that’s a relief – at least Mary isn’t an overly zealous Catholic. But how many of her Catholic children are listening?
Coming Monday: Day 9 in Medjugorje: Conversation with Father David; Best Bourek Ever; The Miracle of the Sun.
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