The Jordan

I have many images of my brief time at the shore of the Jordan River. It was in this place, on the modern-ish plaza, where we had one of our outdoor celebrations of the Mass.

Beyond the altar, as you will see is the water of the river at which Jesus was baptized by his cousin John, and in which to this day, many come to follow. He, of course, did not need the baptism, but He modeled what we were to do, to join into His Life.

It is always small things which one finds precious. In most of the locations, inside Churches, the priest could easily locate bread and wine for the offering. But on this occasion, there was no regular chalice or even hosts. I heard Father ask our guide, Doron, to see what he could find that would be appropriate. And so, there is the ceramic cup labelled "Jerusalem" for the wine, a ceramic dish, for the hosts, and well, the hosts. . . .

They were nearly perfectly round, and there was something lovely about consuming a substantial Substance once the words of Consecration were said.

It seemed so symbolic when a dove, or was it just a white pigeon? appeared before Mass among the gathering congregation.

And after Mass, in sun and breeze, we wandered to the water.

Literally on the other side of us was the country of Jordan. 

I dipped my rosary and other sacramental items into the water, and the Pardon Crucifix of a friend, as well. We renewed our baptismal vows as a group, sprinkled with the water from the river. (Once you are baptized, there is no second baptism so we would not be immersing ourselves).

One of my favorite images is of the woman, whom you can see in the video above, splashing herself gently with the water. 

She might not have been ancient, but she surely appeared to be. Her face was wrinkled in a way that suggested the weight of experience, but her eyes reflected a joy and a faith that gave her a timelessness.  

I sensed the Spirit here. I was not the only one.