Guestview: World Youth Day between media reports and pilgrims’ reflections

Pilgrims pray at the WYD Vigil/Jo-Anne Rowney

When I returned to London from last week’s World Youth Day, I checked the newspapers and logged on to news sites where I expected to be greeted with pilgrims’ smiling faces and headlines capturing the joyful spirit of the Catholic youth from around the globe who gathered to see Pope Benedict during his visit to Madrid.

What I found left me feeling disappointed. The majority of articles reported the “thousands” of protestors against the visit. A minority focused on World Youth Day itself, the largest international Catholic youth gathering held ever two or three years. Even a smaller percentage mentioned the 1.5 million young Catholics that flocked to Madrid to get a glimpse of him. Three hundred times more people travelled vast distances to celebrate their faith with the Pope than those who came to protest, but you wouldn’t have known it.

It’s inevitable that there will be this imbalance between what happens on the ground and what people hear about. This was most apparent regarding reports covering the vigil, where over a million people gathered overnight to see the Pope on Sunday. Reports abounded that people left due to the horrific weather, that pilgrims couldn’t receive communion and that they were unable to get into the main section to see the stage despite the fact they had passes allocating them a spot. All true. But the vigil was much more than this disappointment and disorganisation.

For us pilgrims, it was about unity, about remaining firm in the faith when faced with hardship. It wouldn’t have seemed that way to an outside observer. Like a scene from the Apocalypse,  screens flickered, lights crackled on and off and storm winds tore apart chapels, forcing organisers to remove the Blessed Sacrament. Mounted police patrolled through the crowds.

(Pilgrims huddle against the rain, August 20, 2011/Jo-Anne Rowney)

In the midst of the darkness, in the middle of the tempest there was a small 84 year-old man remaining firm, refusing to leave the flock that had gathered to see him. The Holy Father was urged by his helpers to leave, to take refuge from the raging storm but he simply answered: “My place is with those who have come.”

I felt am indescribable connection to the Holy Father as he waited through the storm. Amazingly, he looked unaffected, determined even. The atmosphere shifted suddenly, we knew the reports would focus on the bad weather and the Pope’s failed address, but we pilgrims would know better.

Leaving the stage briefly, the Pope returned with the Blessed Sacrament. Then amazingly the thunder, rain and lightning stopped as if the Holy Father had pressed pause. “Thank you for your joy and resistance. Your strength is bigger than the rain,” said the Pope as the rain began to settle. “The Lord sends you lots of blessings with the rain.” His unscripted praise left everyone beaming as he dropped to his knees before God.

(Assistants try to shelter Pope Benedict XVI from a downpour that erupted during a prayer vigil at the Cuatro Vientos aerodrome as part of World Youth Day festivities in Madrid, August 20, 2011/Susana Vera)

Following suit, muddy and wet pilgrims fell to their knees one by one, in unison with our Holy Father. People grasped each other’s hands, creating a chain of kneeling pilgrims. Madeleine, a pilgrim from France said: “The Pope had unified us and despite the storm, not because of it, I felt strong in my faith. You feel so alone praying at home, but then we were together facing the storm as one.”

We were one together in the incredible silence and I felt a great surge of love not just for God, or my fellow pilgrims, but for this frail man who had remained with us. How could these people protest against such a gentle, meek and loving figure?

Faced with the enormity of it all I began to cry. Tears and rain mingled, dripped down my face. The Pope, our Holy Father had reignited that fire of faith within us, he had brought us together in unity, braving the elements to pray to our God.

So what if it was pouring with rain? So what if we didn’t get communion? So what if we had a four hour wait for food? What I experienced that night at the vigil was worth all of that, because that night I fell in love with faith and God again.

This blog post appeared as a guest blog on Reuters FaithWorld - you can find it here.