Day 3:

Sunday morning breakfast and prayer at the campground prepared us for the next 15 miles. Our pilgrimage would end at Our Lady of Ephesus House of Prayer in Jamaica, where Father Peter would say Mass for us in the weathered stone replica of the Blessed Mother’s last home in Ephesus, Turkey.

Ephesus seemed a long way off as our route wound through the woods and villages of Newfane and Wardsboro. Occasionally, we’d meet a curious neighbor who would peer from their front yard at our bright orange shirts with Pilgrim across the front and wonder what we were up to. How wonderful to see pleased, almost fascinated reactions to our story of pilgrimage. How fulfilling as Catholics to proclaim our faith to the world.

This was a day of contemplation. The pain had set in for the long haul, and conversations turned from light chatter to meaningful reflection.  Somewhere along the way, through discomfort and fatigue, we learned things about each other that created a kind of tether, connecting one person to the next. We were feeling the weight of Christ’s cross, and not just physically. Walking those last few miles required faith; that we were in this together – the tether wouldn’t break. That somehow, on aching legs and blistered feet, God would bring us where we needed to be. As we made our way up the final hill to Ephesus, body, heart, and soul were transformed.

The tiny stone chapel slowly filled with pilgrims and parishioners waiting to celebrate Mass. Looking around, heads were bent, eyes tired, and emotions at their height. Strangers had become friends, and friends had bonded even more. Shoulder to shoulder we sat, weary, humbled. The real presence of Christ in the Eucharist took on new meaning after our journey, and Father Peter’s soft, lilting song reminded us that everything we had done that weekend – whether walking, cooking meals or serving each other in countless ways – was done purely out of love for God. We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19). When the chorus of voices sang Hail Holy Queen, each salve regina reverberating with emotion against the stone walls of the chapel, it was clear that our community had been built. In that chapel on the hill on a beautiful summer day, the Holy Spirit was at work.