We got to the Church, and all of us went immediately to see if we could pray at the spot where Jesus was born, since the last time, we had been rushed out because the Armenians were about to have a service (can you see a theme here?). When we got there, there was a group of Franciscans having Mass there (in Italian), and so they would not let people come in to venerate the spot. We waited until the Mass was over (we had gotten there around the Our Father), and then, got to spend a few minutes there before the next group was scheduled to come in for Sunday Morning liturgy. Had I not insisted on waiting, we would have missed what appears now to have been perhaps one of only a few small windows of opportunity we would have had to pray at that site. I'm really glad I waited, because I had been hoping all week for a chance to get back to Bethlehem to pray there. I had prayed a big novena last Christmas for a certain intention, and it dawned on me (on Tuesday night, after I had returned from Bethlehem) that I had forgotten to say a huge THANK YOU to Jesus for answering my prayer. And so getting this opportunity to pray there - meant the world to me. Not to mention, that it also, as I later realized, fell on a date that was very significant for me to be returning to give thanks for this particular request. =)
So anyway, then we went to the Catholic Chapel, St. Catherine of Siena for Sunday Mass.
It ended up being quite a celebration! We knew the Mass would be in Arabic, but we weren't prepared for what happened next. The music for the Mass was done by their choir - made up of young Arabic people! The music at first sounded Mexican - it was very up-beat! In many ways, the style of music reminded me of Steubenville. The Church is run by the Franciscans (custodians of the holy land), so that made it remind me even more of FUS! Anyway, so the Mass began and went as normal (even when Mass is in a language you can't understand, you always know what's going on because it's the same everywhere!). Thankfully, my friend Jess had also looked up the readings for Mass, and brought her Bible along so we could follow along in English.
The readings for the Mass were beautiful. The first, was from 1 or 2 Samuel, and recounts the story in which David repents of the sin with Bathsheba. The 2nd Reading was from Galatians 2 - and spoke about how we are not justified by the law but by grace. It ended with one of my favorite Scripture verses: "I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." The Gospel reading was the story of the woman who weeps at Jesus' feet, washing them with her tears and drying them with her hair. The pharisees, in turn, scorn Jesus for not knowing what sort of woman this was (she was a prostitute), and Jesus tells them a parable, which illustrates to them that one who is forgiven much, loves much. He basically says that though they are legalistic in their following of the law, they lack love, whereas this woman, who has sinned much and has been forgiven much, loves more.
I mentioned in one of my other posts on my other blog that God really spoke to me throughout my trip to the Holy Land. To hear these readings - on this day in particular - was a very powerful moment of my trip, because this is something that I feel God is trying to teach me at this time in my life. In many ways, I have come to realize that I can think that I am good and holy because I keep the law, because I do what I am supposed to. But in many ways, this can lead me to place my trust and my security in my own actions rather than in the grace of God, than in His Spirit at work in me. It also made me realize that God is not legalistic. Sure, obedience is required. Jesus said he "did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it," and that "blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it." But at the same time, those who love God the most are sometimes those who have been forgiven most. In some ways, I find myself in the place of the Pharisees, scorning the woman who is weeping and kissing Jesus' feet. It dawned on me that I want - and need - to be more like Jesus. This passage "cut me to the heart" regarding a specific situation in my life. I love it when God's Word speaks to you like that!!!
Anyway, so then the priest gave a homily (I only understood a few words, but could tell he was talking about "Jesus" and "God" and "St. Anthony of Padua"). Then, after the homily, all these young Arab families came forward with a bunch of little children (2-3 year olds). They had some kind of prayer / blessing over them. At first, I thought maybe they were going to be celebrating baptism - but then I was like, no, these kids are a little old for that (usually they're infants), and plus, where was the baptismal font? So then, all of a sudden, we realize that they're putting the little kids in Franciscan Habits! It was so stinking cute!!! These looked like they were tailor made for each child, and even had the little hoods and white robe belts with the three knots! We realized after, it must have been some kind of enrollment in a third order or something. Also, it dawned on us - (we should have figured this out from the fact that the statue of St. Anthony of Padua had flowers all around it and there were white and gold cloths draped around the little side chapel where it stood) that it was the feast of St. Anthony of Padua, and this being a Franciscan Church, this was part of their celebration of the Feast!
The rest of the Mass went on as normal, and was quite beautiful and very joyful. At one point, the Greeks started having Divine liturgy in the main church, and you could hear them in the Catholic section. The priest said something to the effect of, "Let's be louder than them," because as we were praying the Our Father, all of the Arabs started praying it really loudly, so that it drowned out the 'noise' (prayer) coming from the Greek side.
After Mass, we went and had lunch at a restaurant off of Manger square. We had the usual fare - Falafel, Hummus, Pita, Salad, etc. which was very good. Then we made our way back by taxi to the checkpoint. On my way out, I took photographs of one section of the graffiti on the wall:
"FEAR BUILDS WALLS - HOPE BUILDS BRIDGES."
This too, was a reminder to me not to fear, but to trust, to have hope.
I feel at this time in my life that God is teaching me many new things, and sometimes they really stretch me. A few weeks ago during the Gospel at Mass, the line: "There is much more I wish to tell you, but you cannot bear it now" really jumped out at me (From John 17). I think God's starting to show me some of those things, but slowly. Some of it has been scary - or rather, the implications of what he is telling me are scary - but this 'graffiti' is in some ways a small sign to me to TRUST and to HOPE, rather than to fear.
We went back to Tantur and spent the day relaxing and enjoying the rest of the Lord's Day. Then, we were treated to a really nice dinner at Tantur. Every Sunday they decorate the tables, and put candles, fresh cut roses, and nice napkins out. The food was awesome! What a nice ending to a great day.
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