During our first full day in Lourdes we were able to participate in a Eucharistic Procession. It ended with adoration in in the Basilica of Pius X.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
August 12,2011 Eucharistic Procession in Lourdes photos: Emily Albert
During our first full day in Lourdes we were able to participate in a Eucharistic Procession. It ended with adoration in in the Basilica of Pius X.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Blessed Be the Lord!
While in Lourdes, several of our pilgrims led by the Harrisburg local Catholic band Seasons, sang songs of worship on the streets. What you see in this video is the humble beginning to a gathering of around thirty pilgrims, both from our diocese and others, praising God through one of the most wonderful forms of worship: song.
Un, deux, trois...Cheese!
Little did I know when we went wandering last night in Borgos that we would stumble upon a cultural explosion!
As we neared the Cathedral we heard the sound of drums and singing and assumed some kind of concert was going on. Curious, we decided to explore.
Upon entering the courtyard through a stone entryway we were suddenly faced with a huge crowd of young people dancing, singing and chatting at the tops of their lungs. Standing on my tiptoes, I caught a glimpse of a stage in front of the Cathedral. Over my head vibrant flags waved in the night breeze: Algeria, France, Canada, Germany, and some I didn't recognize. A teen rushed past me into the press of people, an Australian flag draped around his shoulders like a cape, flying out behind him."El Papa es nuestro padre!" Shouted a girl from the stage, and everyone cheered and took up the chant.My friend Candace translated. "The Pope is our father."
We had wandered into a World Youth Day celebration!
Youth from different countries took turns taking the stage, sharing songs. The drums throbbed and reverberated through the square, providing a pulse for the shrill flutes and guitars. I found myself yanked into a giant conga line in between a guy sporting a cowboy hat and a girl wearing a dirndl, a traditional Austrian dress (picture the curtain clothes Maria makes the kids in "The Sound of Music").
Laughing, we raced around the square, slapping hands with other youth as we snaked our way through. I was at first worried that the language barrier would be frustrating, but smiles and hi-fives seem to be universal.
Camera in hand, I approached a group of teens with red World Youth Day t-shirts and matching berets."Where are you from?" I yelled over the noise.
There was a slight pause, then one of the girls called out an answer. "France!" "Can I take your picture?" I gestured at my camera. Eagerly they assembled in picture formation, waving and giving me thumbs-up.
"Un, deux, trois..." I count" Cheese!" Some of them reply. I grin at them. "Merci." Before darting back into the dancing crowd, I call to them "Madrid!"
"Oui, Madrid!" The party goes on, everyone swaying to a slower song and singing the chorus, a single word repeated. Alleluia. Lights flash a kaleidoskope of colors. Flags fly. Hands are raised in praise and celebration, all under the ancient and beautiful facade of the Borgos Cathedral.
The Church yesterday and today.
--Mary-Kate
As we neared the Cathedral we heard the sound of drums and singing and assumed some kind of concert was going on. Curious, we decided to explore.
Upon entering the courtyard through a stone entryway we were suddenly faced with a huge crowd of young people dancing, singing and chatting at the tops of their lungs. Standing on my tiptoes, I caught a glimpse of a stage in front of the Cathedral. Over my head vibrant flags waved in the night breeze: Algeria, France, Canada, Germany, and some I didn't recognize. A teen rushed past me into the press of people, an Australian flag draped around his shoulders like a cape, flying out behind him."El Papa es nuestro padre!" Shouted a girl from the stage, and everyone cheered and took up the chant.My friend Candace translated. "The Pope is our father."
We had wandered into a World Youth Day celebration!
Youth from different countries took turns taking the stage, sharing songs. The drums throbbed and reverberated through the square, providing a pulse for the shrill flutes and guitars. I found myself yanked into a giant conga line in between a guy sporting a cowboy hat and a girl wearing a dirndl, a traditional Austrian dress (picture the curtain clothes Maria makes the kids in "The Sound of Music").
Laughing, we raced around the square, slapping hands with other youth as we snaked our way through. I was at first worried that the language barrier would be frustrating, but smiles and hi-fives seem to be universal.
Camera in hand, I approached a group of teens with red World Youth Day t-shirts and matching berets."Where are you from?" I yelled over the noise.
There was a slight pause, then one of the girls called out an answer. "France!" "Can I take your picture?" I gestured at my camera. Eagerly they assembled in picture formation, waving and giving me thumbs-up.
"Un, deux, trois..." I count" Cheese!" Some of them reply. I grin at them. "Merci." Before darting back into the dancing crowd, I call to them "Madrid!"
"Oui, Madrid!" The party goes on, everyone swaying to a slower song and singing the chorus, a single word repeated. Alleluia. Lights flash a kaleidoskope of colors. Flags fly. Hands are raised in praise and celebration, all under the ancient and beautiful facade of the Borgos Cathedral.
The Church yesterday and today.
--Mary-Kate
Hey Hey Hey, We Made It to World Youth Day!
We recieved our WYD backpacks tonight, full of some great guides, liturgy aides, food and museum passes, and. . .
The Final Lourdes Adventure
It took me quite some time to fall asleep last night. So much had happened, and it was so late... Without a clock in my room, I wasn't sure how long I had until daylight. 5 or 6 hours of sleep, 7 max. Using a flashlight, I read into the early morning hours, waiting for sleep to come. As I curled up under the covers, I reviewed my day, the final adventure in Lourdes.
I came to the grotto that evening with a few slips of paper in hand and my backpack slung over my shoulder. Two of our adult leaders, a few pilgrims and I had come back through the city and to the shrine so that we could get our final souvenirs and some more water from the springs. We had to take an alternate route to get into the shrine, as there was a very special play going on in the main square. We caught a glimpse of some of the actors; Specifically, men in turbans and knights in shining armor. (It appeared to be a Passion play, but now I'm not so sure...) After staring at the actors for a good thirty seconds, we went up to the springs. I had four glass bottles to fill, eight rosaries to wash, and a Lourdes key chain (compliments of the Knights of Columbus, thankyouverymuch!) to dip in the water. One of my friends had brought a page of prayer intentions written by her mother in water soluble marker. She filled a water bottle at the springs, tucked the paper inside, and we all watched as the words and prayers began to dissolve into the water. Once we had all finished, we walked past the crowd that was gathering for the nightly candle lit rosary and approached the area designated for prayer intentions. There are two rows of black carts that can hold hundreds of candles (for which they ask a donation), which varies according to the size of the candle. I took out a few American dollars and got a small one, which is actually fairly large, about a foot or two long. I lit it and placed it with the others, calling to mind the intentions of my family and friends back home as well as my own personal intentions. The papers I had brought with me had intentions from home scrawled on them, and I left them with the candles, unsure of where else to put them. When everyone had lit their candles, we stood by the grotto for a final Hail Mary.
Once we were back in the city, things got intense. There were crepes to be eaten, (which I wasn't able to experience on account of my nut allergy and the popularity of Nutella in Europe) , berets to be bought (I had purchased mine the day previous along with a friend, making us trendsetters!), and last minute ice cream runs to be made. As we dashed from store to store, we snapped a few photos of the buildings around us, and headed for the ice cream stand. As I waited in line for my share, I looked to my right to witness one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
We have seen a lot of Franciscans around, at Lourdes, Loyala, even the airport! Their feet are bare. They wear only simple brown robes made of coarse fabric. They live a life of poverty and prayer, inspiring people as they go. Near the ice cream shop, we noticed a pair of them, hunched over, talking with someone. It was a poor beggar, a man whose face I cannot remember, one of the many people who ask for money on the streets of Lourdes. I have tried to pray every time I see someone in need of money, since I often cannot help. But these two Franciscans were doing more than just offering a coin or two. They handed the man food, cleaned the space around him, and conversed with him for several minutes. Then they packed up and moved on. It was touching and served as a model for how we should treat the poor.
After seeing the poor people of Lourdes, I have been struggling with the concept of charity. I'm young, inexperienced, and often naive. I can't do what those Franciscans do, at least not on my own or in a foreign country. I have given coins when I can, but this seems insufficient. I have been so lucky in my life. I have little to complain about. Seeing poverty, or sin, or a different lifestyle tends to unnerve me. But the Lord calls us all to serve the poor. How can I do this? The question drifts through my mind as I turn over on my side in bed, pushing back my hair, wet from my shower. How can I help?
I can't give you a complete answer yet. May I'm not called to help those who are financially poor, but those who lack an education. Or maybe those who lack faith. Bernadette was so poor... I am so wealthy. But there is more to giving than numbers, minutes, what have you. It is the gift of self. Those Franciscans knew how to give. I have much to learn. I'm no Mother Theresa, or Blessed Pier Giorgione Frassati (my favorite), or Saint Francis. But I have to trust that Jesus will give me the strength when I have none, and that He will tell me how I am supposed to help, where I am to go, what part I am to play.
A fleeting thought concerning the amazing taste and texture of French ice cream, and I fell asleep.
Monica Burke
I came to the grotto that evening with a few slips of paper in hand and my backpack slung over my shoulder. Two of our adult leaders, a few pilgrims and I had come back through the city and to the shrine so that we could get our final souvenirs and some more water from the springs. We had to take an alternate route to get into the shrine, as there was a very special play going on in the main square. We caught a glimpse of some of the actors; Specifically, men in turbans and knights in shining armor. (It appeared to be a Passion play, but now I'm not so sure...) After staring at the actors for a good thirty seconds, we went up to the springs. I had four glass bottles to fill, eight rosaries to wash, and a Lourdes key chain (compliments of the Knights of Columbus, thankyouverymuch!) to dip in the water. One of my friends had brought a page of prayer intentions written by her mother in water soluble marker. She filled a water bottle at the springs, tucked the paper inside, and we all watched as the words and prayers began to dissolve into the water. Once we had all finished, we walked past the crowd that was gathering for the nightly candle lit rosary and approached the area designated for prayer intentions. There are two rows of black carts that can hold hundreds of candles (for which they ask a donation), which varies according to the size of the candle. I took out a few American dollars and got a small one, which is actually fairly large, about a foot or two long. I lit it and placed it with the others, calling to mind the intentions of my family and friends back home as well as my own personal intentions. The papers I had brought with me had intentions from home scrawled on them, and I left them with the candles, unsure of where else to put them. When everyone had lit their candles, we stood by the grotto for a final Hail Mary.
Once we were back in the city, things got intense. There were crepes to be eaten, (which I wasn't able to experience on account of my nut allergy and the popularity of Nutella in Europe) , berets to be bought (I had purchased mine the day previous along with a friend, making us trendsetters!), and last minute ice cream runs to be made. As we dashed from store to store, we snapped a few photos of the buildings around us, and headed for the ice cream stand. As I waited in line for my share, I looked to my right to witness one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
We have seen a lot of Franciscans around, at Lourdes, Loyala, even the airport! Their feet are bare. They wear only simple brown robes made of coarse fabric. They live a life of poverty and prayer, inspiring people as they go. Near the ice cream shop, we noticed a pair of them, hunched over, talking with someone. It was a poor beggar, a man whose face I cannot remember, one of the many people who ask for money on the streets of Lourdes. I have tried to pray every time I see someone in need of money, since I often cannot help. But these two Franciscans were doing more than just offering a coin or two. They handed the man food, cleaned the space around him, and conversed with him for several minutes. Then they packed up and moved on. It was touching and served as a model for how we should treat the poor.
After seeing the poor people of Lourdes, I have been struggling with the concept of charity. I'm young, inexperienced, and often naive. I can't do what those Franciscans do, at least not on my own or in a foreign country. I have given coins when I can, but this seems insufficient. I have been so lucky in my life. I have little to complain about. Seeing poverty, or sin, or a different lifestyle tends to unnerve me. But the Lord calls us all to serve the poor. How can I do this? The question drifts through my mind as I turn over on my side in bed, pushing back my hair, wet from my shower. How can I help?
I can't give you a complete answer yet. May I'm not called to help those who are financially poor, but those who lack an education. Or maybe those who lack faith. Bernadette was so poor... I am so wealthy. But there is more to giving than numbers, minutes, what have you. It is the gift of self. Those Franciscans knew how to give. I have much to learn. I'm no Mother Theresa, or Blessed Pier Giorgione Frassati (my favorite), or Saint Francis. But I have to trust that Jesus will give me the strength when I have none, and that He will tell me how I am supposed to help, where I am to go, what part I am to play.
A fleeting thought concerning the amazing taste and texture of French ice cream, and I fell asleep.
Monica Burke
Enchanted by Burgos
We may have only spent one overnight in Burgos, I can honestly say that it was one of the most fun and inspirational parts of our journey yet. First of all, pulling into the Abba Hotel was like entering heaven itself...well, not quite but it was a very accommodating 4 star hotel. The food we had for dinner was delicious. While in France, we ate soup with every meal and often had pastries. In Spain, we dined on a cheese and spinach lasagna (I believe it was lasagna, but either way it was tasty!), beef and potatoes in gravy, and an interesting sorbet dessert which was served in a sort of chocolate/caramel sauce. The bread was good too, similar to that in France, but more dense. After dinner, we had some free time. After a day spent sitting on a bus and walking around Loyola, we were all eager to set our own schedule! Many of the pilgrims, including myself, went swimming in the pool downstairs. Then we gathered in the lobby for some nice conversation and returned to our rooms for curfew.
The next morning, we were all up early for breakfast. There was a big buffet of fruit, croissants (drizzled with honey, which was absolutely delicious), cereal, sandwiches, bacon, eggs, and all sorts of pastries. Once we had eaten and packed the bus, we walked to the cathedral. It was a wonderful walk. The weather was perfect, and the view was amazing. Classic, romantic looking buildings stood tall beside the farmland. The sky was clear blue, the moon was a crystal ball hanging in the sky, and everything was bathed in sunlight. When we came up to the cathedral, a huge smile spread across my face. It was huge! The entire building was covered with intricate designs, and a pair of pointed towers reached up towards the sky. It was even more beautiful inside. There was so much symbolism scattered everywhere! One of my favorite moments of this pilgrimage has been standing in the middle of that gorgeous cathedral, discussing art, Latin and Greek, theology, and symbolism in hushed tones with a few friends. After a few minutes of exploring, we headed for Mass.
My breath was literally taken away. Above the altar hung a huge gold wall panel ( called a "reredos"), covered with statues of various saints, angels, and important Biblical scenes and symbols. Cherubim pulled back a curtain to reveal the tabernacle. Music drifted into the chapel from somewhere unknown. I myself felt even more beautiful in this gorgeous place. I became keenly aware of God's power and might, and felt compelled to live up to my name as a a daughter of Christ. It was humbling as well; I also recognized how small I am compared to our awesome, infinite Lord. We had awhile to pray and Mass began. It was said in English, but Bishop Rhodes gave an introduction in Spanish, which I was thrilled to find I understood! Mass was beautiful, and that is an understatement. I would like to note that we were joined not only by some of the people of Burgos, but also by pilrims from the Dioceses of Fort Wayne-South Bend (Indiana) and a diocese in Australia. Following Mass, I had the privilidge of interviewing Bishop McFadden with my fellow correspondent, Katie. Bishop did a fantastic job, but I confess that I couldn't seem him very well... The sunlight made me squint and my hair kept blowing into my face!
I am now on the bus to Madrid and I cannot wait to see the city. If it is half as wondrous and beautiful as Burgos, I think we can expect a very moving and inspirational World Youth Day!
Monica Burke
The next morning, we were all up early for breakfast. There was a big buffet of fruit, croissants (drizzled with honey, which was absolutely delicious), cereal, sandwiches, bacon, eggs, and all sorts of pastries. Once we had eaten and packed the bus, we walked to the cathedral. It was a wonderful walk. The weather was perfect, and the view was amazing. Classic, romantic looking buildings stood tall beside the farmland. The sky was clear blue, the moon was a crystal ball hanging in the sky, and everything was bathed in sunlight. When we came up to the cathedral, a huge smile spread across my face. It was huge! The entire building was covered with intricate designs, and a pair of pointed towers reached up towards the sky. It was even more beautiful inside. There was so much symbolism scattered everywhere! One of my favorite moments of this pilgrimage has been standing in the middle of that gorgeous cathedral, discussing art, Latin and Greek, theology, and symbolism in hushed tones with a few friends. After a few minutes of exploring, we headed for Mass.
My breath was literally taken away. Above the altar hung a huge gold wall panel ( called a "reredos"), covered with statues of various saints, angels, and important Biblical scenes and symbols. Cherubim pulled back a curtain to reveal the tabernacle. Music drifted into the chapel from somewhere unknown. I myself felt even more beautiful in this gorgeous place. I became keenly aware of God's power and might, and felt compelled to live up to my name as a a daughter of Christ. It was humbling as well; I also recognized how small I am compared to our awesome, infinite Lord. We had awhile to pray and Mass began. It was said in English, but Bishop Rhodes gave an introduction in Spanish, which I was thrilled to find I understood! Mass was beautiful, and that is an understatement. I would like to note that we were joined not only by some of the people of Burgos, but also by pilrims from the Dioceses of Fort Wayne-South Bend (Indiana) and a diocese in Australia. Following Mass, I had the privilidge of interviewing Bishop McFadden with my fellow correspondent, Katie. Bishop did a fantastic job, but I confess that I couldn't seem him very well... The sunlight made me squint and my hair kept blowing into my face!
I am now on the bus to Madrid and I cannot wait to see the city. If it is half as wondrous and beautiful as Burgos, I think we can expect a very moving and inspirational World Youth Day!
Monica Burke
Bon appetit
Every country does one thing right. China knows how to make and market technology, Spain knows how to play soccer, Italy knows how to make pasta and sauce, and the United States knows how to raise the standard of health care. But France's thing that they do right is food. France seems to know how to make every food better than our lovely home country, the United States. The ice cream is like a party in your mouth but the best party ever; it melts in your mouth and makes America look like amateurs in the business. It also is so flavorful; the vanilla ice cream is sweet and bursting with flavor. I may never be able to eat American ice cream without wishing it was French. Every morning for breakfast we have received croissants. One would normally think it would not be a satisfying breakfast, but the croissants and bread in France are amazing. The bread once again makes America look like amateurs in a major way. For dinner each night we had four-course meals with the most amazing soups, cheese appetizers, main courses and desserts. Main course meals normally consisted of some sort of meat and vegetable, while desserts consisted mostly of some sort of fruit.
While out on the town our group would stop for lunch and snacks. While stopping for snacks, we discovered maybe one of France's most amazing foods, pastries. They commonly had chocolate or fruit inside them with some sort of dough around them, although French pastries cover a broader range of desserts that just fruit or chocolate with dough. " I didn't have a chance to eat a lot this time but they are all incredible," says Father Fauser, who has visited France many times. Another traditional French dessert enjoyed by all was crepes. "They were very delicious with sugary goodness in very bite," says Katie Holdren. As we move to Spain, French food will not be easily forgotten by all.
BY: KATIE MULLEN
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