An uplifting moment on day 6 of the Pilgrimage was that I passed 12 cars! Well, they were stopped at a construction zone and idling at the time, but it was fun to smile at all the drivers who had previously passed me at their high speeds. Granted, they eventually passed me again, but my victory had been won!
The shoulders on Hwy 101 are quite spacious at times, but quite narrow and bordering on non-existent at other times. If any of our "followers" have connections with ODOT, let them know that bicyclists and walkers face a hardship occasionally when "our lane" runs out. By the way, there seems to be an interesting bond between bike riders and walkers. All of the cyclists who pass me or whom I meet as they approach me are eager to share a kind word, often something like "safe travels." There were a few times today, between Tillamook and Beaver, when there was no more shoulder ("my lane") and I had to wait for traffic to pass before venturing ahead. I'm developing a pretty good ear for the sound of cars and trucks around the bend or a curve, so I had a good idea when it was safe to cross a bridge, for example. For those worried that I am in danger, please trust that there is very little daredevil in me, my family will attest to that, and I'm being cautious at all times. If there weren't already enough reasons to want to stay alive, I've still got over 250 miles to go on this journey and that's plenty of motivation to stay safe.
In the Church's calendar today it is the feast day of St. Norbert. As I prayed morning prayer before setting out today, I asked for the good intercession of Norbert and all the Saints of God. Norbert himself went to the ancestral home of my family, Germany. I wrote down the prayer the Church offered us today and carried it with me: "Oh God, you made the bishop Norbert an outstanding minister in your Church, renowned for his preaching and pastoral zeal. Always grant to your Church faithful shepherds to lead your people to eternal salvation. Through Christ our Lord. Amen." The heart of my prayer today was that God would allow me the grace to be nothing more and nothing less than a faithful shepherd. The idea of "walking with one of the Saints" each day comes from an old friend, now deceased, Nancy Bordwine. She prepared two pilgrimages for me many years ago. They were clearly distinct from this pilgrimage (one was in Israel and the other was in Ireland). Nancy would put little booklets together in advance of the trips and have a designated Saint for the day to be with us and a prayerful reflection to guide us. The Church itself has long had such a custom, but Nancy would pick Saints either from the area we were in or Saints who had something to do with the activities of the day. St. Norbert was a welcome guest along the 16-mile sojourn today.
The valley that runs south from Tillamook is a rather quiet and pastoral area. Sure, there are those famous cows. But sheep, chickens, horses, and even goats were visible as I passed from farm to farm. The cows and horses appeared to be especially curious about something (someone) traveling slower than 50 miles per hour on the highway. Most of them stared at me for long periods and then returned to their all-important grazing. The area reminds me of the area west of Fern Ridge, near Eugene. There were a few rolling hills, lots of evergreens, pastures, and fields that were being harvested today for hay. There was also a Red-tailed Hawk that was hovering over a newly mowed field. It didn't match the size of either the Bald Eagle (near Arch Cape), nor the Great Blue Heron (near Wheeler) . . . but it flew with equal grace and apparently enjoyed catching some gusts of wind as it circled over the field.
You may recall that the first day of this journey was 16-miles. Today we matched that distance, but I have to say that I feel a whole lot better than less than a week ago. In fact, yesterday's walk from Rockaway Beach to Tillamook was marked by a lot less tiredness and the desire to go for a walk, believe it or not, after dinner. That one was only a mile, but by contrast I recall the feeling (or lack of feeling) I had when I arrived in Seaside June 1st. A small twinge of pain set in today in my right shin, but I changed shoes after 3 miles and things didn't get any worse. If there is a patron Saint of shins, somebody put in a good word for mine!
Along with all the other prayer intentions offered today, I spent a good amount of time praying for the students at O'Hara Catholic School in Eugene and Holy Cross School in Portland. For those who don't know, they are the students from my former parish and my new parish. I was reflecting on the fact that 1st Way in Eugene does a great job of encouraging young mothers to be great mothers, too. The students at O'Hara and Holy Cross are blessed with great parents already and they would do well to thank God each and every day. It seemed fitting that, near Beaver, I spotted a boy riding his bike in his driveway. At the edge of the driveway there was a sign from his school which read "Home of a Champion Reader!" I asked him if he was the Champion Reader and he smiled broadly and said, "Yes, I am." I offered him congratulations and told him to keep up the good work . . . and to be good to his Mom and Dad. He said, "I will." Passing 12 cars wasn't the only uplifting moment of the day!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
The Ascension of the Lord
St. Mary by the Sea Catholic Church
Rockaway, Oregon
Fr. Larry Gooley and Fr. Mark
The Ascension of the Lord is about what unites us. Christ’s Ascension is the dissolution of the last boundary that keeps us from what we are called to be and from where we are called to be. What the early Church discovered after the Resurrection was that, where God was concerned, there were no more boundaries. As St. Paul put it after he caught on, "there is no more Jew, no more Greek, no more male nor female." It all began as the biggest of all boundaries came down on the day of the Annunciation when the young St. Mary in Nazareth said "yes" to the angel who came to announce the end of the boundary: "The Word was Made Flesh". The boundary between the human and the divine was ended with the Incarnation when God crossed the boundary between heaven and earth.
Even more, when the perfect obedience of His Son was complete, a human being crossed the boundary of death to life and of earth to heaven. With that, it was all over for walls, boundaries, fences, and anything else that keeps people apart . . . people from God. This is what we celebrated today in our Christian tradition,
a human being crossed the boundary of death to life and of earth to heaven.
It dawned on me today, when passing from Rockaway to Barview to Garibaldi to Bay City to Tillamook (all in 11 miles), that the Ascension means it is over for walls and divisions. Again, isn't that what we celebrated today, the crossing of the boundary, the end of the limits, the collapse of anything that keeps us from the presence of God? And so, it seems that what matters today, in our life time, in this age of history is not what separates us, but what unites us: our life in God through Christ in the Holy Spirit.
We cannot be faithful to Christ and the plan of God and willingly settle for boundaries that divide and separate. As he crossed the last boundary, the Risen Christ, who had already left behind the boundaries of human flesh and blood, gave a final instruction and mandate to those who would follow him across the divide. They were to translate words into works, decisions into deeds, and goals into achievements. Cheap talk was to become precious action. There were walls to take down, fences to remove, bridges to mend, and a divine plan for creation to complete. It is our mission, our purpose in life; and it becomes more than our vision, it becomes our very identity: who we are and what we are -- healers, forgivers, builders, disciples. Regardless of the name or what we are called, the mission is the same.
Today's journey also offered me some time to reflect on a childhood experience. Perhaps you have heard me tell this story, but it bears repeating. The first summer that I was on the family farm in North Dakota, my Grandmother Elizabeth put me in charge of raising 100 chickens (from chicks to maturity). Among my summer-long chores was to feed and water them and make sure they stayed in the farmyard. Even at twelve years of age, I was up to the task. Toward the end of the summer, my Great Uncle Frank visited with some other family members and my Grandmother sent me to pick out two of the now-mature chickens. Naturally, I thought she wanted to show them off and let everyone see how well I had done in raising them. She had something else in mind. Dinner! When I approached the house, I saw her sharpening her knife and I realized that the chickens weren't pets. They were . . . well, dinner. I recall pushing my food around the plate but not really eating anything that night. In a moment of tender care, my Grandmother approached me before bedtime to say, "In the city, people think chickens come from the grocery store. But this is where they really come from and it's good that you've learned this." I share that story tonight as a prelude to a comment for all cheese and milk lovers. Those sorts of things don't come from the grocery store, they come from Tillamook! And they come from the cows in Tillamook. The cows who create a quite strong odor that you never really get away from in Tillamook. It's a delightful town and the people here have been very hospitable and I'm sure all of the area farmers and ranchers are happy to hold their noses as they go to the bank regularly! The rest of us just have to be careful when stepping outside and taking a deep breath.
Tomorrow, Monday, will find us heading for Beaver. I'll be wearing my green and yellow Duck baseball cap with pride.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Rockaway Beach
After the Arch Cape to Wheeler leg of the trip, Paul and I stumbled upon a wonderful place in "downtown" Wheeler called the Old Wheeler Hotel. The staff treated us with great kindness and fellow guests were intrigued by the pilgrimage. There were only nine rooms in the whole hotel and each doorpost had a personal sign of welcome with the name of the guest. There was a common room for snacks and food and a living room with an old Victrola phonograph. Now that I think about it, old Victrola is kind of redundant! A special pleasure was that the owner put me in the only room that had a private bathtub and it also had air jets to create a jacuzzi effect. After yesterday's two mountain climbs, the bathtub was much appreciated. There I go with redundancy again!
Today's journey wasn't mountainous at all, though there were a few climbs along the highway. The first two hours led me along Nehalem Bay where crabbers were getting ready to head out and clam diggers were slogging through the mud at low tide. When one of the clam diggers returned to his truck to put a bag of clams in his cooler, he was accompanied by his Golden Labrador retriever. They say that there is nothing more friendly than a wet dog . . . but I found that a muddy dog can be pretty friendly as well! Nehalem Bay is one of those places that you just can't appreciate when driving 50 miles per hour through the many curves in that stretch of Hwy 101. The Blue Heron which graced me with a visit the afternoon before, made a return call this morning (or someone from her family did). Blue Herons in flight are something to behold; they remind me of prehistoric creatures and they are so big that you can hear their wings flap under the right conditions.
Paul and I decided to meet at the high school at Rockaway Beach at about the mid-point of today's journey. It was 6 miles down the road from Wheeler and there were about 5 miles to go. We've established a good routine for taking nutrition: the halfway point is now marked by rest, oranges, and a protein bar. When I arrived at the high school parking lot, I found Paul waiting and a man approaching us both. It turns out that graduation ceremonies were to begin in two hours and he was there as a reporter for the Tillamook newspaper. We innocently introduced ourselves and he was curious about our presence. When we told him about the pilgrimage and the project underway to support 1st Way, he saw "a story." The next thing I knew, we were being interviewed, even as graduates were showing up for their big day. I acknowledged that I wasn't seeking publicity, but I was happy to get the good word out about the work being done at 1st Way. One of the questions he asked was "Would you ever do this again?" I said, "I'm only four days into it. Ask me again 26 days from now!"
As soon as I left the high school, I got off the highway and walked through the neighborhoods of Rockaway Beach. The sunny day drew many people either to the beach or for a drive along the Coast Highway; traffic was heavy and that led me to seek refuge along the less busy streets of the town. I had been to St. Mary by the Sea Church many times during my years in Astoria and it was a welcome sight when I returned there today. A wedding was just concluding and so I knew the pastor had to be close by. Fr. Larry Gooley greeted me warmly, though I think he was a little suspicious at first. A sunburned, perspiring man arrives at the sacristy door with nothing but a walking stick and a knapsack, you'd figure he was out of the Bible or out of money! But I introduced myself and mentioned the pilgrimage and, before long, we were talking about mutual friends and mutual experiences in life (including his own pilgrimages over the years). In the end, I asked if I could join him at the altar Sunday morning and he asked if I'd say a few words about 1st Way at the end of Mass. God works in mysterious ways.
I carried a holy card in my pocket today which I picked up one morning at the Carmelite Monastery in Eugene. These words from St. Teresa of Avila accompanied me all day:
Let nothing disturb you, nothing dismay you.
All things are passing.
God never changes.
Patient endurance attains all things.
Whoever has God lacks nothing.
God alone suffices.
Today's journey wasn't mountainous at all, though there were a few climbs along the highway. The first two hours led me along Nehalem Bay where crabbers were getting ready to head out and clam diggers were slogging through the mud at low tide. When one of the clam diggers returned to his truck to put a bag of clams in his cooler, he was accompanied by his Golden Labrador retriever. They say that there is nothing more friendly than a wet dog . . . but I found that a muddy dog can be pretty friendly as well! Nehalem Bay is one of those places that you just can't appreciate when driving 50 miles per hour through the many curves in that stretch of Hwy 101. The Blue Heron which graced me with a visit the afternoon before, made a return call this morning (or someone from her family did). Blue Herons in flight are something to behold; they remind me of prehistoric creatures and they are so big that you can hear their wings flap under the right conditions.
Paul and I decided to meet at the high school at Rockaway Beach at about the mid-point of today's journey. It was 6 miles down the road from Wheeler and there were about 5 miles to go. We've established a good routine for taking nutrition: the halfway point is now marked by rest, oranges, and a protein bar. When I arrived at the high school parking lot, I found Paul waiting and a man approaching us both. It turns out that graduation ceremonies were to begin in two hours and he was there as a reporter for the Tillamook newspaper. We innocently introduced ourselves and he was curious about our presence. When we told him about the pilgrimage and the project underway to support 1st Way, he saw "a story." The next thing I knew, we were being interviewed, even as graduates were showing up for their big day. I acknowledged that I wasn't seeking publicity, but I was happy to get the good word out about the work being done at 1st Way. One of the questions he asked was "Would you ever do this again?" I said, "I'm only four days into it. Ask me again 26 days from now!"
As soon as I left the high school, I got off the highway and walked through the neighborhoods of Rockaway Beach. The sunny day drew many people either to the beach or for a drive along the Coast Highway; traffic was heavy and that led me to seek refuge along the less busy streets of the town. I had been to St. Mary by the Sea Church many times during my years in Astoria and it was a welcome sight when I returned there today. A wedding was just concluding and so I knew the pastor had to be close by. Fr. Larry Gooley greeted me warmly, though I think he was a little suspicious at first. A sunburned, perspiring man arrives at the sacristy door with nothing but a walking stick and a knapsack, you'd figure he was out of the Bible or out of money! But I introduced myself and mentioned the pilgrimage and, before long, we were talking about mutual friends and mutual experiences in life (including his own pilgrimages over the years). In the end, I asked if I could join him at the altar Sunday morning and he asked if I'd say a few words about 1st Way at the end of Mass. God works in mysterious ways.
I carried a holy card in my pocket today which I picked up one morning at the Carmelite Monastery in Eugene. These words from St. Teresa of Avila accompanied me all day:
Let nothing disturb you, nothing dismay you.
All things are passing.
God never changes.
Patient endurance attains all things.
Whoever has God lacks nothing.
God alone suffices.
Friday, June 3, 2011
An Adventure
High point so far!
Looking south over Manzanita.
There were several of what I call "St. Francis Moments" today. His great love and appreciation for nature are always brought to mind when things like this happen: a cool breeze carries a mist of water off a roadside waterfall (momentarily easing the burden of 72 degree heat); red rhododendrons spring out of a hillside and accent the first view of the ocean after 3 hours in the mountains; and a Great Blue Heron flies overhead at about the same hour that the Bald Eagle visited yesterday! No, there were no singing chipmunks, nor chirping flocks of sparrows, but those wouldn't provide true "St. Francis Moments" anyway.
There is no Catholic church here in Wheeler, I assume people go to St. Mary by the Sea in Rockaway or back north to Arch Cape, but it has proven to be a good place to settle down after the twelve mile hike today. The original plan was to stop in Nehalem, two miles north, but it was nice to add the two miles; this will allow us to go through Rockaway tomorrow and wind up in Barview. We have scouted out the journey already and there are no 550 foot climbs between here aand Barview. Thanks be to God!
(This weekend will allow us a few extra moments to add some photos to this weblog and we'll start working on a visual map so you can have an idea of where we've gone and where we're going. Sorry it's been nothing but text so far, thanks for your patience.)
Seaside to Arch Cape
Day 2 began with an invitation from Fr. Nick Nilema to preside and preach at the daily Mass at Our Lady of Victory parish in Seaside. Actually, it began a little earlier than that when my alarm clock failed to go off and I was rousted out of bed by a loud knock on my door by Paul. It was a good thing for Paul to do and I have to admit that I was still sound asleep. Did I mention that the 16 miles the day before impressed me as a long way to walk? My body agreed and I have to admit that I may have simply slept through the alarm. Nonetheless, we arrived at OLV's new church and we were told that the daily Mass is offered in the parish center, instead of the newly built and quite beautiful church. We did, however, get a tour of the church and it is impressive. It is the fruit of many years of labor and it will be a source of pride in the parish for generations to come. Parishioners and visitors alike will be blessed with a lovely space in which to worship. It was nice to be able to preach about the Eucharist and the readings for the day in the context of the pilgrimage. The people who gathered with us were eager to offer their prayerful support and I asked that they also promise to give me lots of room on the side of the highway if they were headed south for any reason.
Daily mass is offered in a side room off the dining hall.
After Mass, Paul and I headed out for St. Peter the Fisherman Chapel in Arch Cape. It is a mission of the Seaside parish and is located a few miles south of Cannon Beach. As you may know by now, Paul headed out in the car and I maintained a slower pace (although I did keep up a 3.5 mph pace for the day; Rembrandt would be proud, yet disappointed because that leaves little time to respond to squirrels at the road's edge). The walk started with a generous shower of rain for about 20 minutes and, strangely, ended with a 20 minute shower as I arrived at Arch Cape. I suggested that the two showers, which were both quite intense, were God's funny way of getting back at me for all the times I soaked the good people at St. Mary's during the Easter sprinkling rite! The 13.4 miles covered during the day were dedicated to all of the people who have died at St. Mary's over the past year. When I finished praying the Rosary, just before the second shower descended on me, a majestic Bald Eagle hovered overhead and circled around a few times. It was close enough that I could see its wings respond to the ocean gusts and it sure flew with great style and grace. Nice touch! (This is being posted June 2 because there was no internet service at Arch Cape. This might not be the last time we encounter that this month.)
Daily mass is offered in a side room off the dining hall.
Fr. Nick is to the right; a bit dark in this room for a photo.
After Mass, Paul and I headed out for St. Peter the Fisherman Chapel in Arch Cape. It is a mission of the Seaside parish and is located a few miles south of Cannon Beach. As you may know by now, Paul headed out in the car and I maintained a slower pace (although I did keep up a 3.5 mph pace for the day; Rembrandt would be proud, yet disappointed because that leaves little time to respond to squirrels at the road's edge). The walk started with a generous shower of rain for about 20 minutes and, strangely, ended with a 20 minute shower as I arrived at Arch Cape. I suggested that the two showers, which were both quite intense, were God's funny way of getting back at me for all the times I soaked the good people at St. Mary's during the Easter sprinkling rite! The 13.4 miles covered during the day were dedicated to all of the people who have died at St. Mary's over the past year. When I finished praying the Rosary, just before the second shower descended on me, a majestic Bald Eagle hovered overhead and circled around a few times. It was close enough that I could see its wings respond to the ocean gusts and it sure flew with great style and grace. Nice touch! (This is being posted June 2 because there was no internet service at Arch Cape. This might not be the last time we encounter that this month.)
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
319 Miles To Go
Well, sixteen miles is a long way to walk! For at least a couple of months, my dog Rembrandt and I have worked our way up to daily walks totalling six to eight miles. We had hoped to get up to ten miles a day, but the many tasks surrounding the departure from the Church of St. Mary always seemed to eat away at our training regimen. By the way, despite rumors, Rembrandt is not along on the trip. Instead, he's vacationing in California where my brother Bob and his family (and their dog Jazmine and cat Tigger) are hosting him. For experienced walkers and for anyone with an ounce of math ability this comes as no surprise: there's a big difference between eight and sixteen miles! Paul Swadener, loyal helper in this month-long effort, gave me his pocket GPS and I was able to monitor the fact that I maintained a 2.5 mile per hour pace over the six and a half hours of walking. I felt good about that. Plus, at about the mid-point today I came upon at sign at a roadside church that said: "Help is just a prayer away." That's the precise moment when I remembered all of you praying for me and praying for 1st Way Life Center. Thank you.
We began the day at St. Mary, Star of the Sea parish in Astoria. Fr. Ken Sampson was gracious in welcoming us and put in a plug for the cause which I'm coming to realize is behind all of this. While I have talked and written about the professional transition under way and the desire for a retreat experience, today's journey left me quite convinced that supporting the efforts of 1st Way is really where my energy needs to be directed, and gladly so. Here's the promised link: first-way.org/
Although I trust that many of you will go find out more about 1st Way via the link, let me repeat that the way they help any woman distressed by an unplanned pregnancy and the way they remain dedicated to caring for young mothers and their children both inspire me. I won't beg you to support them, but at least give some prayerful thought to pledging me on this pilgrimage or mailing them a gift of your choosing. You can also contact them directly and see if they have any practicall needs that you can help them meet.
Fr. Ken allowed me to concelebrate the Mass at Star of the Sea as we celebrated the martyrdom of Saint Justin. The homily was, in part, about St. Justin's youthful search for a philosophy or "school of thought" which would allow him to ponder the big questions of life. While not yet a Christian, Justin happened upon a Christian man in Ephesus during a particularly bloody and viscious persecution of the Church. Justin was struck by the fact that the Christians had found "a way" to which they were so dedicated that they were willing to lay down their own lives. As we know now, it wasn't just a way, but The Way . . . of Christ himself. Saint Justin would later follow in the footsteps of all the earlier martyrs in dying for the faith and lead the way for all subsequent martyrs as well. I have to admit that the example of such heroism in the Church, from age to age, inspired me today when it would have been easy to give up and call it a day, well-short of sixteen miles. I have no claim to martyrdom, mind you, but I'm just saying that I'm grateful for the grace of the martyrs' inspiration as it came to mind several times today.
For those wondering, the scenic beauty today was occasionally breathtaking. Did you know that some coastal ponds have beautiful wild yellow irises growing up from patches of skunk cabbage? And, yes, skunk cabbage is so called because of its smell!
Some closing thoughts from one of my favorite Catholic authors, Thomas Merton:
"Life is this simple. We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and God is shining through all the time. This is not just a fable or a nice story. It is true. If we abandon ourselves to God and forget ourselves, we see it sometimes, and we see it maybe frequently. God shows himself everywhere, in everything -- in people and in things and in nature and in events. It becomes very obvious that God is everywhere and in everything and we cannot be without him; it's impossible." (Life and Solitude)
We began the day at St. Mary, Star of the Sea parish in Astoria. Fr. Ken Sampson was gracious in welcoming us and put in a plug for the cause which I'm coming to realize is behind all of this. While I have talked and written about the professional transition under way and the desire for a retreat experience, today's journey left me quite convinced that supporting the efforts of 1st Way is really where my energy needs to be directed, and gladly so. Here's the promised link: first-way.org/
Although I trust that many of you will go find out more about 1st Way via the link, let me repeat that the way they help any woman distressed by an unplanned pregnancy and the way they remain dedicated to caring for young mothers and their children both inspire me. I won't beg you to support them, but at least give some prayerful thought to pledging me on this pilgrimage or mailing them a gift of your choosing. You can also contact them directly and see if they have any practicall needs that you can help them meet.
Fr. Ken allowed me to concelebrate the Mass at Star of the Sea as we celebrated the martyrdom of Saint Justin. The homily was, in part, about St. Justin's youthful search for a philosophy or "school of thought" which would allow him to ponder the big questions of life. While not yet a Christian, Justin happened upon a Christian man in Ephesus during a particularly bloody and viscious persecution of the Church. Justin was struck by the fact that the Christians had found "a way" to which they were so dedicated that they were willing to lay down their own lives. As we know now, it wasn't just a way, but The Way . . . of Christ himself. Saint Justin would later follow in the footsteps of all the earlier martyrs in dying for the faith and lead the way for all subsequent martyrs as well. I have to admit that the example of such heroism in the Church, from age to age, inspired me today when it would have been easy to give up and call it a day, well-short of sixteen miles. I have no claim to martyrdom, mind you, but I'm just saying that I'm grateful for the grace of the martyrs' inspiration as it came to mind several times today.
For those wondering, the scenic beauty today was occasionally breathtaking. Did you know that some coastal ponds have beautiful wild yellow irises growing up from patches of skunk cabbage? And, yes, skunk cabbage is so called because of its smell!
Some closing thoughts from one of my favorite Catholic authors, Thomas Merton:
"Life is this simple. We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and God is shining through all the time. This is not just a fable or a nice story. It is true. If we abandon ourselves to God and forget ourselves, we see it sometimes, and we see it maybe frequently. God shows himself everywhere, in everything -- in people and in things and in nature and in events. It becomes very obvious that God is everywhere and in everything and we cannot be without him; it's impossible." (Life and Solitude)
Point of departure,
St. Francis De Sales Catholic Church at Hammond
Ready to Begin
Tonight marks the "vigil" of the Oregon Coast Pilgrimage. Paul Swadener, good friend and parishioner at the Church of St. Mary, will accompany me for a good part of the sojourn. We traveled today from Eugene to Astoria and used the final 15 miles, from Seaside to Hammond, to scout out tomorrow's first stage of the pilgrimage. For those unfamiliar with me, I am a parish priest in the Archdiocese of Portland. I just completed twelve blessed and wonderful years at the Church of St. Mary and I will arrive at my new parish assignment, Holy Cross Parish in Portland, on or about July 1. Prior to serving in Eugene, I spent six years at St. Mary, Star of the Sea Parish in Astoria. While Astoria is very near the ocean, it has the spirit of a "river town" instead of a coastal town. Nonetheless, it is a short drive to the beach from Astoria and I made many trips from Astoria to "truly coastal towns" during my years at St. Mary, Star of the Sea. Today's scouting trip was actually just a chance to reorient myself to the area, given that I had traveled between Astoria and Seaside quite often until twelve years ago.
The genesis of this project goes way back to my first childhood memories of the Oregon Coast. My family moved to Oregon from North Dakota in the mid-1960's. I distinctly recall the first time our paternal grandparents visited us from North Dakota and we made a trip to Florence. My grandfather, Louie, was in awe of the size and power of the ocean waters. It was the first time he'd ever been to the coast, either U.S. coast for that matter, and his humble reaction to the mighty sea left a deep impression on me. During subsequent decades, our family visited various places on the Oregon Coast and we never grew tired of its beauty. Sometimes, however, when one travels the coast highway the traffic is so congested or the speeds are too great to take in the scenic beauty. Over my fifty years, I have often reflected on the possibility of going up or down the coast at a pace that would allow me to take in all of the scenery and do so in a prayerful way. All of that reflecting led me to the conclusion that walking might be the best way to do both of those things and do them well.
Mother Teresa of Calcutta once wrote, "We cannot find God in noise or agitation. Nature: trees, flowers, and grass grow in silence. The stars, the moon, and the sun move in silence." Perhaps one of my aims for this pilgrimage is to create a sort of retreat experience. As I mentioned, I am now fifty years old and I have recently moved from a parish community and will soon head for another. This seems like a ripe time to "take a long, loving look at the real", as Fr. William McNamara has described contemplation. I ask for your prayers during the next thirty days and I pledge that you will be in mine. The following prayer is borrowed from Jim Forest's book The Road to Emmaus, Pilgrimage as a Way of Life. I recommend it to you and I will be praying it at the beginning and end of each day on his journey:
Lord Jesus, you traveled with the two disciples to Emmaus
after the resurrection and set their hearts on fire with your grace.
Travel also with me and gladden my heart with your presence.
I know, Lord, that I am a pilgrim on earth,
seeking citizenship in heaven.
During my journey surround me with your holy angels
and keep me safe from seen and unseen dangers.
Grant that I may carry out my plans and fulfill my
expectations according to your will.
Help me to see the beauty of creation
and to comprehend the wonder of your truth in all things.
For you are the way, the truth, and the life,
and to you I give thanks, praise, and glory forever.
Amen.
One of the things that makes this pilgrimage all the more special to me is that I am asking for your support of a group and a ministry in Eugene called 1st Way. The many people involved in the outreach provided by 1st Way are the kind of folks who freely and generously put their faith into action every day. Their primary work is reaching out to women who are pregnant and not only encouraging them to give birth to their children, but also helping them raise those children in a healthy and loving way. Tomorrow I will provide a link to 1st Way's website and more information about how you can support them by making a pledge, per mile for example, for this pilgrimage.
The genesis of this project goes way back to my first childhood memories of the Oregon Coast. My family moved to Oregon from North Dakota in the mid-1960's. I distinctly recall the first time our paternal grandparents visited us from North Dakota and we made a trip to Florence. My grandfather, Louie, was in awe of the size and power of the ocean waters. It was the first time he'd ever been to the coast, either U.S. coast for that matter, and his humble reaction to the mighty sea left a deep impression on me. During subsequent decades, our family visited various places on the Oregon Coast and we never grew tired of its beauty. Sometimes, however, when one travels the coast highway the traffic is so congested or the speeds are too great to take in the scenic beauty. Over my fifty years, I have often reflected on the possibility of going up or down the coast at a pace that would allow me to take in all of the scenery and do so in a prayerful way. All of that reflecting led me to the conclusion that walking might be the best way to do both of those things and do them well.
Mother Teresa of Calcutta once wrote, "We cannot find God in noise or agitation. Nature: trees, flowers, and grass grow in silence. The stars, the moon, and the sun move in silence." Perhaps one of my aims for this pilgrimage is to create a sort of retreat experience. As I mentioned, I am now fifty years old and I have recently moved from a parish community and will soon head for another. This seems like a ripe time to "take a long, loving look at the real", as Fr. William McNamara has described contemplation. I ask for your prayers during the next thirty days and I pledge that you will be in mine. The following prayer is borrowed from Jim Forest's book The Road to Emmaus, Pilgrimage as a Way of Life. I recommend it to you and I will be praying it at the beginning and end of each day on his journey:
Lord Jesus, you traveled with the two disciples to Emmaus
after the resurrection and set their hearts on fire with your grace.
Travel also with me and gladden my heart with your presence.
I know, Lord, that I am a pilgrim on earth,
seeking citizenship in heaven.
During my journey surround me with your holy angels
and keep me safe from seen and unseen dangers.
Grant that I may carry out my plans and fulfill my
expectations according to your will.
Help me to see the beauty of creation
and to comprehend the wonder of your truth in all things.
For you are the way, the truth, and the life,
and to you I give thanks, praise, and glory forever.
Amen.
One of the things that makes this pilgrimage all the more special to me is that I am asking for your support of a group and a ministry in Eugene called 1st Way. The many people involved in the outreach provided by 1st Way are the kind of folks who freely and generously put their faith into action every day. Their primary work is reaching out to women who are pregnant and not only encouraging them to give birth to their children, but also helping them raise those children in a healthy and loving way. Tomorrow I will provide a link to 1st Way's website and more information about how you can support them by making a pledge, per mile for example, for this pilgrimage.
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