Friday, August 20, 2010
8:35 AM
Nineteen kilometres, twelve miles. That should be more than enough to get my second wind, and it seemed appropriate that Sunday should be an easier day than other
s. I loaded my larger bag onto the truck, along with the clothes still wet from Friday's rain, and indulging my neurotic misgivings, dashed back into the barn to make sure I had forgotten nothing. The concrete shelter, bereft of hay, animals, or even machinery, was of course also devoid of mislaid belongings.'Biało-czarno-czerwona!' a voice shouted followed by the shrill whistle. With my breviary in hand this time, I ran out to join them, keeping my eyes open for the newcomers. Apparently some priests from France were to join us today. I thought immediately of the much lauded pilgrimage from Paris to the sublime cathedral of Chartres. It was seventy-two miles, less than half of the sojourn from Warszawa to Częstochowa, but anyone who had walked it was already more prepared than I for this trek.
Today our group led the way before the others. Just ahead of our own standard, which was always accompanied by the image of Christ the King on the one hand and the Divine Mercy on the other, strode a group of six, bearing the crucifix before the entirety of the procession. To walk in front of the cross was to excommunicate one's self from the pilgrimage, as the traffic directors were teased mercilessly for later.
The moment we were clear of the town, the indefatigable cantor initiated the Matins of the Immaculate Heart, followed by those of the Divine Office.
My awkward lips stumbled over the beautiful ninety-second Psalm so wretchedly as to make me worthy of Beauty's wrath. Yet, I was not entirely to blame. The Polish language scorns the diction prized so highly in English, it being a language where the tongue must tap only lightly on the letters, like the hiss of a zephyr over smooth waters. My Southern American enunciation, rendered even more deliberate over the years out of deference to my profession, still has a great deal of trouble learning how to skip lightly in a foreign tongue when it must plod heavily in its own.
Alas, I did not then have the time to translate the Psalm, as we quickly moved on to next song. I saw it was from the book of Daniel and my heart skipped a beat. It was the song of the three saved from fire--the glorification so replete with the beauties of creation, so rhythmic in its invocations that it absorbs the natural world which Neopagans claim to love and exalts it in a manner above the sneers to which these spiritual dilettanti have exposed it. My slow tongue loosed itself at last and flowed along:
Blessed art thou in the firmament of heaven: and worthy of praise, and glorious for ever. All ye works of the Lord, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye angels of the Lord, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye heavens, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O all ye waters that are above the heavens, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all for ever.
O all ye powers of the Lord, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye sun and moon, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye stars of heaven, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O every shower and dew, bless ye the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O all ye spirits of God, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever.
O ye fire and heat, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye cold and heat, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye dews and hoar frosts, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye frost and cold, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye ice and snow, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever.
O ye nights and days, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye light and darkness, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye lightnings and clouds, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O let the earth bless the Lord: let it praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye mountains and hills, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever.
O all ye things that spring up in the earth, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye fountains, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye seas and rivers, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye whales, and all that move in the waters, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O all ye fowls of the air, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever.
O all ye beasts and cattle, bless the Lord: praise and exalt him above all for ever. O ye sons of men, bless the Lord, praise and exalt him above all for ever. (Daniel, 3: 56-82)
* * *
To my left and right, pilgrims crossed themselves, and I glanced up to behold a roadside shrine to the Sacred Heart. Here we turned aside from the asphalt road onto a dirt lane. It was but a few minutes walk, before our band was immersed in the cool, moist green of the forest. A little clearing opened up on our left, while on the right emerged a stately white building framed by the verdant growth.
In spite of its fine appearance, the broken windows and brown stains at the base of its walls revealed the manor's neglect. At the end of the
edifice though, was an arched door left open, and many of the pilgrims and priests strode inside. I peered into the darkness and saw that they knelt. Looking up I finally noticed the cross atop this part of the building.Stepping aside to let others pass through the exit, I took out the paper on which I had copied the novena to the Sacred Heart then entered. Touched only by time and elements, the chapel maintained an ineffably serene beauty. All was intact. The intricately carved tabernacle, the altar with its images, and the paintings on the wall. Crowded with dusky cobwebs and sitting upon faded carpets, it was at least unmolested by vandalism.
The Lord was no longer here where there was no one left to praise Him, but the catechism provided by the chapel's beauty did bring me to my knees, as it did the others, and with a bow to the altar that Christ Himself had instructed us to reverence, I began my private prayers.
Exiting the chapel I spied at last two priests of dark, distinctly Gallic visage sitting amongst their Slavic brothers. There were a few French speakers eager to practice with them, but I was comforted that there were others bearing the same linguistic difficulties as I. When we started our tramp again though, I heard a congenial announcement in Polish that something ought to be sung which would give the French fathers and the American sister no trouble. In a moment we were swept up in the medieval rhythm which cannot distinguish between the inner gaiety of the soul and the riotous joy of a dance:
Cuncti simus concanentes, Ave Maria!
Virgo sola existente en affuit angelus
Gabriel est appellatus atque missus celitus.
Clara facieque dixit: Ave Maria!
Clara facieque dixit: audite, karissimi.
en concipies Maria, Ave Maria!
En concipies Maria, audite, karissimi,
pariesque filium, Ave Maria!
Pariesque filium audite, karissimi,
Vocabis eum Ihesum, Ave Maria!
Let us all sing together: Hail Mary!
When the Virgin was alone, an angel appeared.
He is called Gabriel and is sent from Heaven.
Radiant he said: Hail Mary!
Radiant he said, listen, my darling ones:
You will conceive, Mary. Hail Mary!
You will conceive, Mary, listen, my darling ones:
You will bear a son, Hail Mary!
You will bear a son, listen, my darling ones,
You will call him Jesus, Hail Mary!
* * *
Sunday afternoon was as relentlessly bright and merry as Saturday's, though we hardly broke a sweat as walked the curving path up the hill of Michałowice Stamirowice. When we emerged at the top, we promptly fell to our knees before the Church of All Saints. This was where Mass would be said.
After paying our brief respects, we all hastened to exploit our early finish and hang our damp clothing out to dry. Many grabbed towels and made for the portable hot showers across the lawn from our barn. Not feeling especially dirty, I elected to wait until after Mass to wash; cold water would be more than adequate. Even as I unrolled my mat and sleeping bag, I got looks of concern from the ladies about me.
'Aren't you afraid of the draught?' they asked, pointing out the generous spaces between the boards in the front of the barn.
'Nie,' I replied, hoping my answer would make some sense, 'Noc zawsze jest gorąca mi.' Whether they judged my hard, American head incapable of comprehending their concern, or whether my weak grasp of Polish made me deaf, they gently gave up reasoning with me.
After paying our brief respects, we all hastened to exploit our early finish and hang our damp clothing out to dry. Many grabbed towels and made for the portable hot showers across the lawn from our barn. Not feeling especially dirty, I elected to wait until after Mass to wash; cold water would be more than adequate. Even as I unrolled my mat and sleeping bag, I got looks of concern from the ladies about me.
'Aren't you afraid of the draught?' they asked, pointing out the generous spaces between the boards in the front of the barn.
'Nie,' I replied, hoping my answer would make some sense, 'Noc zawsze jest gorąca mi.' Whether they judged my hard, American head incapable of comprehending their concern, or whether my weak grasp of Polish made me deaf, they gently gave up reasoning with me.
* * *
Re-knotting my kerchief around my head, I limped my way to the church for Mass. It was barely large enough to contain us, and I wondered how it would much less fit a parish, until I observed how greatly the scaffolding on the left wall intruded upon the space. Coins fell generously into collection box for the renovation, and as I gazed upon the glories of the chancel it was not difficult to see why.
Mass commenced, and the introit fit the setting most eloquently:
God in His holy place; God who maketh men of one mind to dwell in a house; He shall give power and strength to His people.
Mass was offered amidst the pious assembly, and most piously consummated. A moment after the Last Gospel, we began Vespers. I rejoiced in being able to use my own missal to find the text and at being able to understand without strain the Evening Office:
K: Boże, wejrzyj ky wspomożeniu memu,
W: Panie, pospiesz ku ratunkowi memu...
V: Lord, come to my assistance,
R: Lord, make haste to help me...
The lady kneeling beside me complimented me on my voice after prayers were concluded, which would later bring me a wee bit of trouble.
Mass commenced, and the introit fit the setting most eloquently:
God in His holy place; God who maketh men of one mind to dwell in a house; He shall give power and strength to His people.
Mass was offered amidst the pious assembly, and most piously consummated. A moment after the Last Gospel, we began Vespers. I rejoiced in being able to use my own missal to find the text and at being able to understand without strain the Evening Office:
K: Boże, wejrzyj ky wspomożeniu memu,
W: Panie, pospiesz ku ratunkowi memu...
V: Lord, come to my assistance,
R: Lord, make haste to help me...
The lady kneeling beside me complimented me on my voice after prayers were concluded, which would later bring me a wee bit of trouble.
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About Me
- Jacobitess
- Warsaw, Poland
- Domine, spero quia mundum vicisti. Lord, I trust that Thou hast overcome the world. Panie, ufam, żeś pokonał świat.
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