Because of our late start to the day, my small group debated which route to take for the pilgrimage, as several were marked off throughout the city. Several musical artists were performing at the raceway and there were certain ones that I wanted to see, so we tried to take our late start into account when deciding on the length of the walks. I think we ended up doing the right thing and choosing to embark from the North Sydney train station and walk the entire way (instead of getting back on the train for part of the walk, trying to shave some time off the trip to get to see more of the concerts, which I was selfishly contemplating). We began our pilgrimage at about 1pm just down the street from the train station, right after eating the lunch we packed with us. I was very pleased and a bit surprised when someone from the small group requested we open our Liturgy Guides and use the prayers that were put together for this particular event. She calmly, yet with fervor, read aloud the prayers designed for certain parts of the walk, as was laid out in our Liturgy Guide to augment the pilgrimage experience.
The first leg of our walk was crossing the Sydney Harbor Bridge, which was closed for only the third time in history in order to accommodate the event. The trains still crossed it and, as I waved to the passengers, I remembered being on that train crossing the bridge to get to our starting point and seeing so many people and flags on the bridge.
The second leg of the pilgrimage was going through Darling Harbor and Tumbalong Park. I had been through there many times in the past several days for different WYD events, but today it looked and felt different. Besides the stream of pilgrims flowing in one general direction, the rest of the crowds in this scenic area of town were normal residents - boyfriend/girlfriend, spouses, families, friends - hanging out and enjoying a beautiful, sunny day at the harbor and in the park. I felt like I got to get a small glimpse of Sydney on a normal Saturday afternoon.
The third leg of the walk was through residential streets. Up until then my small group was walking at a very good pace and passing lots of pilgrims, so it gave us an opportunity to see several groups and hear different music as some passed the time in musical unity. Once the streets narrowed to two lanes, the crowd condensed, slowed, and even halted once. My group opened our Liturgy Guides to the prayer meant for this portion of the pilgrimage. I was blown away by this part: "Lord, we ask you to bless the families that we pass. Help them to be true Cenacles of Love, defenders of life and builders of a culture of love." I rarely hear the word Cenacle, but from Bishop William Giaquinta's book, The Cenacle, I was recently reminded that several Grace-filled events took place in the Upper Room, the Cenacle. And now, this prayer called for blessings on the citizens of Sydney, that they may become living Upper Rooms, filled with Love. May they (and all of us) experience a washing of feet, Jesus in the breaking of the bread, the fire of the Holy Spirit, and more.
Every once in a while we came across some protesters. In a certain way, I was waiting for this, to see how I would react. Here is where I know I failed to be a witness to God's Mercy and Love. First was a young man striding along past and then back against the flow, holding a sign that said something to the affect of not allowing priest to molest our children. I smiled at the irony that, though it seemed like he was there in defiance, we all were in agreement with him. I thought bout yelling AMEN to him and shaking his hand, but I kept my eyes forward as I passed him by...
Next was a small group crossing an intersection, back and forth, during the gaps in the crowd, with rainbow flags and signs talking about love. I smiled again, but not at any irony. Although they were talking about a misappropriation of love, we could agree that God is Love, and that we are all called to love our neighbor, not judge their souls. I thought about waving and yelling, "We love you", but then I thought I would feel like I was in a parade. So I passed them by...
Next was a large group of Christians trying to tell us the Church is wrong. Obviously they were well-meaning Christians who misunderstood our faith and several pilgrims were already engrossed in conversation with them, explaining the Truth. I thought about engaging in apologetics with someone, but I didn't want to hold my group back and I passed them by...
During the home-stretch to Randwick Raceway, a couple of us were handed a small, purple and black booklet with the words "Last Rites" on it. I didn't notice the hundreds of ripped up papers, thrown on the ground ahead of me until someone mentioned them. My eyes immediately got big. "Was I just handed a Chick Tract!?" Jack Chick, the famous cartoonist who creates these little cartoon tracts that blatantly lies about and misrepresents the facets of the Catholic faith. He's a good cartoonist and a decent writer, but vehemently against the Church. The poor lady who was handing these tracts out to us was caught in a world of misguidance. I vocally thought about turning around, hugging her and praying over her, hoping that nobody had been crass to her earlier and that she could see the Light of Christ in the pilgrims. But I kept walking straight ahead, wishing Catholics didn't litter...
I ask myself, is it better to actively/vocally show love, or to ignore those I disagree with? That's rhetorical, of course. Too often I think too much and act too little.
After 5.5 miles and about 3 hours of walking, we finally made it to our designated area within the Raceway. As we were looking for a spot to lay out our sleeping bags, Matt Maher came to the stage. Since my group went to see Christopher West the night before and didn't get to see Matt in the huge concert where I went, I was extremely happy that they got to see him now. As the evening drew on it came time for the Saturday night prayer vigil. Without any fanfare, the Pope came out of a doorway in the stage and the crowd erupted excitement. I completely forgot that he was going to be here for this and I got more excited than during his "arrival" a couple of days ago. The vigil was beautiful and it ended with Eucharistic adoration. Stop. How did I get here and be able to worship the creator of the universe with hundreds of thousands of others and the Pope? When the vigil finished, I knew I wasn't done with adoration. They had four tents set up throughout the raceway for Reconciliation and adoration of the Blessed Sacrament until the wee hours of the morning. I told my group that I wanted to find one of those tents and, to my delight, two of them wanted to come with - one for Reconciliation and the other for adoration. The first tent we found, near the middle of the raceway, was too packed to get in. The second was packed, but still had enough room for us. Each of us returned back to our sleeping bags separately. On my way back I noticed the night was full of energy - people huddled in conversation, song, dance, clapping, trading trinkets, etc.
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