My good friend Dick Martin once told me that “This Pope is right up my alley” -- referring to the progressive and humble leadership that Pope Francis has brought to our church. “Or maybe he’ll say that I’m right up his alley!” He continues to add on with a smirk as he looks at me and winks ;). Those words resonated deeply with me today as I attended mass with the Pope. The story of how I ended up in Bethlehem is nothing short of a miracle. With the sudden passing of my dear friend just two weeks ago, I knew that I had to meet the one person on earth that he related so much to, and in so many ways resemble. Since I have already planned a backpacking trip through Europe, Rome now had to be a destination. After traveling through London, Paris, and Amsterdam, I landed in Rome last Saturday. A friend who is studying at the Vatican arranged for us to have dinner that night. This is when I learned that meeting the Pope would be impossible as he is preparing for an out of the country trip. I was devastated to learn the news. Rejected, I asked where he was going. My friend replied “Bethlehem, to hold mass at the Church of Nativity. On Sunday, at 11am.” Father Dick Martin is the Pastor of my church, the Church of Nativity in Burke, VA. The church I got confirmed in and sang in the youth choir when I was in high school. The mass on Sunday at 11am was Dick’s favorite because of our youth choir and the many parishioners that would attend that specific mass. So, I booked a flight to Tel Aviv immediately that night to leave Rome on Saturday and be in Tel Aviv by midnight Sunday. Excited, I went to sleep dreaming of whats to come. The next morning reality hit as I did a little more research. Manger Square Bethlehem, where the mass is to be held by the Pope, can only hold about 10,000 people. Security would be through the roof and tickets to get into the Square were given away many months ago. Furthermore, Pope appearances draw thousands upon thousands of people hoping for the chance to be in his presence. So you can imagine my surprise as the Expedia search yielded an opening for the Manger Square Hotel, which is situated literally across the street from the Square. I figure that since I am blessed to be right there, I could camp out all night and maybe sneak into the venue, because there’s no chance of getting a ticket anywhere and that was my only hope. Suddenly, an email appeared in my inbox on Wednesday from an old middle school friend of mine. We haven’t spoken in nearly two years. The subject of the email was “Hey, I work in Bethlehem now, heard you were coming to town from your cousin, would love to meet you up!” Both my friend and I were confirmed at Nativity Church with Father Dick Martin. Stunned, I replied back by explaining my story and the tragic news of Father Martin. He immediately replied saying that there’s no way that I could sneak in to an event like this. Security is no joke in the West Bank. And he ended with this, “I’ll see what I can do to help.” It turns out that my friend had enrolled in Seminary School, been assigned to the Jesuit Order serving out of Bethlehem, and have been living in Jerusalem for the past eight months. The next morning I got the most exciting email of the year. “Tu, I got you a ticket!” I don’t cry often, but this moment was just too perfect. My flight to Tel Aviv landed promptly at 12:30am today, and I find that there is no single taxi that could take me to Bethlehem. Citizens from Tel Aviv or Jerusalem could not cross the borders into the walls of Bethlehem. Again, I was stuck. Luckily the couple I sat next to on the plane offered to lead me to the Gates of Bethlehem. I am beyond grateful at this point and take them up on their offer. At 2:30am we arrive at the military compound and there we said our goodbyes. As I exited the heavily guarded entry, the empty streets of Bethlehem immediately met me along with 6 barking, stray dogs. There are no taxis, just a deserted street, a big wall, and graffiti every where. I realize at this point that I will have to walk to my hotel. I have no idea where I am, I am in one of the more dangerous areas of the world, and I look like the easiest target there is. Google maps isn’t very good in Bethlehem and I quickly got lost in some pretty scary parts of the city. For some odd reason amidst all of my uncertainty and fear, I felt guarded and looked after. After about 15 minutes of aimlessly walking around the city and its wall, a police cruiser pulled up right next to me. A short chat later, he turned on his lights and drove me safely to my hotel. I knew at this moment that there was nothing that was going to stop me from meeting the Pope. I was the first to be in my section in Manger Square. 1 hour of sleep was all I needed for this moment. The ticket that my friend got for me was the literally the best section in the venue. Standing room only, on the entry and exit path of the Pope, 50 feet from the podium, and I was in the front row behind the barricades 2 hours before any other person showed up. I was determined to say hello to him. As the Pope’s motorcade made its way towards me, all I needed to do was to extend my hand. His hand met mind and we smiled at each other. For that split second, it felt as if I was holding my friend’s hand again. It was warm and full of love.
Posted on: Mon, 26 May 2014 05:30:45 +0000
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