The edited records of both speeches can serve as a reminder of this year's celebration of the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel and – concerning the second speech – also as a contribution to the Eucharistic theme in this issue of our magazine.
Brothers and sisters!
There are some pilgrimage sites that have very little space. The very place itself, which is holy because it is connected with the life of the Lord Jesus or some saint, or where the remains of saints are kept, is not large. There is very little space on it.
So when you arrive at that pilgrimage site, there is often a “line” that you must join – if you want to get to the holy place itself. Therefore, you join the line and move step by step... And then comes the moment when you are right at that place. When you stand at that key spot and you have that image or those relics or that holy place before you. And now is “your” moment. The reason why you traveled there. Such a peak moment. And suddenly it is about how a person experiences that peak moment. If I have taken my journey as a true pilgrimage, if I come with a certain intention – to pray, to entrust something to God (or to God through a saint) – then now at this moment (to put it colloquially) I “pour it out to God.” I quickly spill it out. As I said: because you can't linger there for long.
But it can also happen that I didn’t actually come to that pilgrimage site with any clear intention and that I joined the line somewhat like: “Well, everyone is going, so I’ll take a look too...” And when that, as I called it, “my moment” comes, I stand there and sort of lounge and look to see what it actually is. Well, then I just move on again because there are others waiting for the desired spot to become free.
In my opinion, this represents a situation where a person can somewhat “sharply” realize whether they are truly a pilgrim or just a tourist. There is a big difference between a pilgrim and a tourist. Perhaps after I’ve described this with this example, I don't even need to explain it anymore. It is clear what I am pointing to. And I would like, brothers and sisters, in this speech to encourage us all to just one very simple thing. To always keep in mind that we will be pilgrims.
That we do not stay with the attitude: we are those who came to look, who do what others do, and just peek and then go home... But have entrusted nothing to God, have not “poured out” anything to Him, and within them, not much has happened. That would be a great pity. I believe that each of us needs to “guard” ourselves in this or “watch over” ourselves. Because a person is also by nature a lazy creature, prone to half-heartedness; and so it is good that we remain attentive or – as the Lord Jesus says – vigilant. And be careful to see it through to the end: that we come from the stance of a person who does what others do, who somehow is carried along that we set off – the whole family got in the car, and so we go – and it already has a certain tradition – that we “go through” to such a meeting with God (or, in this place, with Our Lady), when we truly open our hearts to God, or as I would say – we stop before Him “face to face.”
You know, this is a thought that I have pondered many times when a group comes to us in Kostelní Vydří. Perhaps school children or conversely, seniors, or simply some other group – and now those people want to “hear something about the church.” So I enter the church with them and tell them the history of this pilgrimage site or something about the local image of Our Lady, mentioning the scapular. And since I generally assume that these are probably non-believers, I don’t push them into any prayers... But sometimes I was quite saddened when I spoke more or less “for tourists” and saw that some of these people secretly crossed themselves as they were leaving the church. I said to myself: “But it’s a pity that I talked to these people as tourists! I could have helped them to be pilgrims! And I missed my chance, I didn’t do it!” And then one time an idea struck me on how to deal with this. So now I sometimes use it and I am happy about it. I want to share it with you.
When I sense that there is at least a little awareness in the group that this is a pilgrimage site, that this is a church, and that there is some God, I openly say: “Look, this is a pilgrimage site. For centuries, people have come here not to just see what we have, but to entrust something to the Lord God here. To pray for someone or for something they feel that prayer is really needed.” And so I do this sometimes – when I overcome my shyness and awkwardness or other obstacles – that I tell the group: “You know what? Now let’s have a moment of complete silence, let’s kneel in the pews, no one will say anything. And each of us will in spirit pray for one person or one matter that we think really needs our prayer...” And I, brothers and sisters, am very happy that even school-age children know what to do with that moment of silence! Even relatively small children “know what’s what,” a boy or girl can be a pilgrim, not just a tourist!
I intentionally tell all this to you during this holy mass, which is on the eve of the “great” pilgrimage. Because we ourselves, when we accept this thought, can still during this evening (or many of you will come again tomorrow morning), do what I am talking about: we can still several times and repeatedly take on the stance of a pilgrim, supplicant, intercessor deliberately.
I purposely didn’t want to talk about this tomorrow at the holy mass at eleven before noon, because there it will already be something that can only be “rescued” at the last moment. But now we have a whole evening before us. This service. We have an overnight adoration and tomorrow morning – depending on how this is possible for each of you. But at least tonight, and at this holy mass. And I want to truly encourage us all again to be pilgrims.
After all, the holy mass itself allows us to insert what hurts us, what burdens us into it, what we come with. Even in the holy mass, there are places that were directly created so that the faithful – always – could “pour out” their personal needs to the Lord God: when the priest at the beginning before the first prayer says: “Let us pray...” and pauses for a moment of silence – that is a moment where in our hearts (without it being heard externally) what burdens us, what we come with, should burst forth... And then the priest encompasses and summarizes it all in his prayer. If during the holy mass the intercessory prayers, the so-called “petitions”, are pronounced – we pray them from some book and pray for various matters of the church and the world. But indeed, in spirit, it can very easily be “smuggled” in that for whom I am praying! And if after holy communion others are still receiving and you are already at your place and Christ present in the Eucharist rests in your heart, those are such deep moments! At that time we worship Him, but at the same time we have a unique opportunity – figuratively speaking – to lay our head on His shoulder and say to Him: “Lord – this and this person – is really troubling me. It troubles me a lot, and I ask You – now, in this moment when we are so close – I ask You: look down, strengthen, send Your grace, give strength!”
So, brothers and sisters, the holy mass contains those moments for our pilgrim prayer. But it requires us to “grab” them. To utilize them. To “go for it” – truly decisively.
And that is why we read the passage from the Old Testament about the woman Abigail (1 Sam 25:1–35). Because she can be a beautiful model for us in pilgrimage and the prayer associated with it. Her husband behaved as we heard... It is very, very interesting how the description of his behavior “fits.” This is exactly what we encounter ourselves: how easily pride combines with greed and with ungodliness, with disrespect and ingratitude! We can encounter this tangle of vices just the same today, at the beginning of the third millennium. And when his wife sees this, she does not just sit idle with her hands in her lap and does not lament: “Well, my husband behaves that way... What can I do as his wife?” And this story takes place in a strongly patriarchal time when a woman really had little influence to direct the external behavior of the family. So Abigail could very easily give up any effort and say: “I can’t do anything here.” But she takes action. She gathers all the things listed and heads towards David to bow before him and to intercede. To replace what her family does not do. To plead for salvation and help for her whole family.
I want to emphasize her determination above all. The fact that Abigail acts. She takes action. Alone, on her initiative, she does not allow herself to be just swept along by events: the messengers came, her husband threw them out, and that’s how it ended – that’s bad luck... Abigail acts. She shows respect to David, intercedes, and ensures that the whole narrated event ends beautifully.
Brothers and sisters, Abigail is an excellent role model for us. If I encourage you to pray, to intercede, to be truly pilgrims who know what they want, who know for whom they want to pray, what they want to entrust to God – well in this, that acting woman Abigail is a beautiful example for us.
When I was reflecting on these thoughts, it occurred to me that perhaps all this could be said in a slightly different way. Brothers and sisters, most of you are likely here at this pilgrimage site for the several times. So I will ask you: Do you have “your little spot” here in Vydří? A kind of “your little spot” where you have prayed before, where you have already experienced that “bursting forth” of personal prayer, as we talked about. Perhaps you already have such a little spot here. I wish you all the best.
If I may briefly mention my experience: something like this happened to me in Rome at St. Peter’s Basilica. When I first entered there, I was completely amazed at how huge that church is and what it’s like in there. I completely disappeared there. But mainly, I despaired: where does one pray in such a crowd of tourists? And then I just “threw that noisy environment behind my head.” I was standing right by some altar, and so I knelt down there and prayed. And suddenly I looked – saw that at that altar, there was a space covered by a grate – and there was an inscription that there are relics of a saint whom I greatly value. And I said to myself: “That's beautiful! This is ‘my place’! This is a beautiful place for prayer for me, right here in that big busy church, where otherwise I would feel so lost.” And when a few years later I returned to that basilica for the second time, I went to that spot again. And I knelt there again and prayed again. But then I had already sought out that place. Because that is a place where my prayer took place, and I wanted to continue that prayer. And if God allows me to get back there, I would like to go there again. Surely. I would definitely not want to miss that place.
And so I would wish everyone of us, brothers and sisters, that here in Kostelní Vydří – before the image of Our Lady or elsewhere in the church or somewhere on a bench – each of us would truly open our hearts to God as pilgrims. That we each “find ourselves” at some little spot, that we find space for our personal prayer. That we, like Abigail, would entrust to God those “troubles” or those things around us that often trouble us so much. Now is the place, and it is time for us to pour it out to God... And I firmly believe that when we “carry” our pilgrimage here to Kostelní Vydří like this, when we do not remain just tourists, but when we truly become such pilgrims, it will also be true of us what David said to Abigail. It would be as if the Lord Himself promises us:
“Go peacefully to your house. Look, I have listened to you and take you into account.” Amen.
P. Gorazd Cetkovský, O.Carm.
Most of us come here every year to this pilgrimage site somewhat to thank for the past year and to again ask for God’s protection, help, and for the protection of the Holy Mother, for her intercession. We instinctively feel that we cannot manage on our own in life, how we need God’s help, and we are happy that we are not alone in life. And each of you could tell what all happened during this past year. So as we priests meet with you, we know that some of you – as the saying goes – “have been loaded.” That someone has gone through a great trial alone, or has shared such a thing in their family. Someone else has achieved something great in the past year and now has come to give thanks. But we have all experienced events during the past year that have mysteriously connected us, have impacted us significantly – and I believe not just for a few days – they have deeply imprinted themselves in our hearts. When we were here on the pilgrimage a year ago, we had no idea that in the autumn of that year – quite unexpectedly – the then Pope John Paul II would proclaim the Year of the Eucharist. And we did not know that this Year of the Eucharist would be the year in which John Paul II himself would be able to become the definitive Host of God’s love and fully surrender his life...
The days of his illness, death, and farewell to him that we experienced – whether it was with us or around the world or in Rome – must have deeply imprinted themselves in the life of each of us. They influenced the entire world in a certain way. Surprisingly. More than expected. Suddenly time seemed to stop. People stopped hurrying, stopped planning. They abandoned their entertainment, their events that they had planned, and watched that final struggle of an old man – for us, a very exceptional one.
For many reasons. Firstly, he was “the pope of our lives.” We experienced so much with no other pope as we did with him. And we will always find it hard to get used to... Or better said: we will always compare. Because with him – in the way he approached it – we saw what it means to stand at the head of the church, what it means to serve, what it means to open the doors to Christ, what it means to love Jesus to the extreme. And what it means to be a son of Mary. He taught us this. And not only us believers but also the whole world. He taught how important it is to have respect for one another. Regardless of age, gender, nationality, religion, race. John Paul II emphasized the dignity of every human being from the very beginning of his pontificate. And of every human being – even before birth, in dying, in sickness, and in death...
He was the one who uttered those famous words that suddenly stopped the world. And divided it. In order to later unite it among those who truly are people of good will. When he expressed himself about questions of life, he was not afraid to say that a nation that kills its own children is a nation without hope. And that all of Europe can become a continent without hope if we follow this path. And a nation that does not respect the elderly cannot even respect itself, because it does not value its roots and its fathers...
And suddenly, as we were watching John Paul II age before our eyes, we could inadvertently see that not only in the church but also outside of it, people looked at this old man with respect. Many said: “He no longer has the strength to govern, he doesn’t have the strength to lead God’s people, a billion believers, – and to have such a responsibility for the whole world! After all, he is actually the first man in the world. And he is powerless, leaning on a cane...” then: “he is already being carried...,” then: “he always has to have a handkerchief...,” then: “he is not understood,” then: “we see how exhausted he is...” And we all wished for him to rest.
And we did not know: is it really good that he stands at the head, or should he have already passed his office to someone younger? After all: the whole world bears so many problems; they need to be solved, we need to address them, we need to say clear words. And we have an old man... A sick old man... – And paradoxically, just those last days that we experienced with him and in watching that dramatic conclusion of his life suddenly showed that every person has an irreplaceable place and value – even the unborn, even the old and sick. John Paul II, in his old age, through his sacrifice and the way in which he accepted suffering and identified with the dying Christ, suddenly began to “open the eyes” of the whole world, so that everyone could notice that the true values are not just those we hear from the loudspeakers. That it is not just about being healthy and strong and successful and having the best goods and always getting where we want to go and having “our toys” (whether we are children or adults) – everyone can “play” with whatever they recall... That life is about something else. That there is a dimension that is far more fundamental: the dimension of love that is given.
John Paul II showed us how important it is that a person, when they truly have strength – and still quite a bit of strength – should commit themselves for the good. And for the good of others. Let’s remember that strong pope who surprisingly began to travel all over the globe, meeting with everyone, and constantly urging reconciliation. Who was not afraid to meet anyone, to listen to everyone, and to tell everyone his opinion. He appeared in the role of pope as a person full of enthusiasm, energy, love which he gave away... And then we gradually saw how that way of love changed, how he lost strength, and that love took on “lower levels.” Depths that we sense (we could sense), but we never reach... What do we know about how much suffering someone offers to God? In connection with prayer for us, for you, for the sick, for resolving conflicts in the world? ... We saw him, when he boldly stood face to face with the impending war in Iraq, clearly on the side of peace – almost as the only one. With a prophetic voice, he urged us to spread the values that we believe are important and fundamental through dialogue, nonviolence, respect. This is a message that we all must take with us. Because each of us can sometimes feel that we could help somehow through violence to explain to others how things stand. At least to slightly push them away, and thus teach them a lesson... And it doesn’t work – you know that from families. Not even within families does it work with violence, not even with children does it work with violence, and certainly even less so in partnerships, let alone international conflicts. It never works with violence. It is always necessary to take the person seriously, to take each nation seriously and listen. And to talk and seek and pray.
And then came his sacrifice. The sacrifice that John Paul II instinctively, mysteriously connected with the Eucharist. As we experience this year as the Year of the Eucharist, we talk about many aspects of this mystery. But we must not forget one of the most essential – the Eucharist that we celebrate on the altar is our own mystery. The mystery of our life. And when the Eucharist is thanksgiving, then our entire life is to be for the glory of God. When the Eucharist is sharing and distributing bread, then our entire life must also be about this sharing and giving. But the Eucharist is also the definitive making present of Jesus’ sacrifice, which He offered once and for all for all of us – and we may join this sacrifice. Each of us. Each of us in a different way. By receiving from God’s hands what life brings and offering oneself. Receiving the sacrifice of Jesus and giving our life. And when a person wants to offer themselves, they always have something to give. And that goes for everyone – both young and old. Both healthy and sick. Yes, when we are young, we can give our energy, our ideas, our service as well. We can give ourselves to the extreme. But there comes a time when we will be left alone – mainly. Occasionally someone will cheer us up, occasionally someone will be interested in what we are saying, but more and more there will be moments when we will be only with our God and sometimes even with our suffering. And those are moments when our life must finally become a Eucharist for others. Our dying pope seemed to restore the value of human suffering, old age, weakness, and illness. He seemed to uncover the riches we have in the church, which we can see so clearly in the life of Jesus, we can see it in the life of his mother. And yet, when such a witness of faith appears, suddenly it becomes clearer to us. We again better understand what happened back then at Calvary, what Jesus must have experienced, what His mother was going through. We understand more about what we are experiencing ourselves because we have a greater share in that experience of Christ.
We need role models – each of us – to know how to treat our life. When we are at its beginning and need an ideal of how to handle life, where to direct our strength, what to decide for. What actually gives life meaning and how to live so that it has meaning. Similarly, we need them when we are in the midst of our lives when we are balancing a bit, realizing that we still have some strength. And we also already have some experience. So a little more, as when we were young, we know “what life is really about.” And even now it is necessary to make good decisions about which way to go and where to devote all and the rest of our strength. So that one day, when old age comes, we can offer even the last. Even our dying. To experience it in connection with God. The connecting “thread” is always the true love that God has for people and to which we respond. And a person who has accepted this love and wants to respond to it has immense freedom in their heart, because as the Apostle Paul wrote to the Romans – nothing can separate us from this love, nothing! If we accept this love into our lives and take this as a fundamental creed.
This love has various forms. Just as human life has various forms. When a mother cuddles with her newborn, that is a different love than that of the elderly. When young people meet, when friends are happy to meet, when spouses renew their marital vows after decades and say again: “Yes, I am glad I have you. I am happy that I can live with you. Through everything we have endured, I would never change...” – that is always a different manifestation of love. And then, when a person starts to lose things from their hands and when they begin to leave one by one, when sickness and aging come, then that love begins to resemble the offering of the Eucharist. And one’s own life becomes the host that is broken – for the honor and glory of God and for the good of others.
And there is no need to wish for anything better, nothing greater, than that we may grow in that love, that we may withstand all trials, and one day we ourselves may perhaps be a source of encouragement to those around us. That we may be a close model. Similarly to how we look up to models that are distanced from us by centuries and space, that we may have those closest models as well. So that we ourselves can become those who, for those who will come after us, will show Christ and his love. To the Holy Mother and her love and their mutual faithfulness. To that inner freedom of love, in which one does not want to possess the other, and one freely gives oneself for the good of all... This is our path.
We are richer. We are richer for what we have experienced in the past year; we are richer for the great witness of John Paul at the end of his life. We are richer for what has connected us; we are richer for that beautiful experience of the new election of Benedict XVI and for the hope that the church has received again. And it depends on us how much each of us will contribute to that. And it is not even so much about what specifically anyone can or cannot do but how much love they will put into their life. How much love they will receive from God and how much love they will be willing to share with those around them. So that they themselves may become a Eucharistic sacrifice, a gift that one day in the hands of Christ Himself will be broken for the glory of God. And for the nourishment of the multitudes.
P. Vojtěch Kodet, O.Carm.
