Pilgrimage to the Black Madonna

Monday, July 20, 2015

We deserve a breakfast out, so we make sure we are up and packed before eight.  That give us plenty of time to haul everything down the interminable stairs.  We leave our “rolley bags” with the hostel (not hostile!) lady and take our backpacks to the car.  We can hide them in the “trunk” and add money to the meter so that we can enjoy our last morning in Warsaw.

Sunrise is a little after four a.m.  I've seen quite a few!

Our hostel is a home for children of dysfunctional families
during the school year.

No one is up yet!

A last look around

 We’ve been told that breakfast is served at all the nearby cafes beginning at nine.  Well….at last we do find an open one and order a continental breakfast with American coffee.  We sit outside although the little waitress is surprised that it isn’t too cold for us.  There are even light blankets on the backs of the chairs!  We are among the few people who are out and about, except for the working men who are walking with their coffee and bags of bread.  We sit and watch the town waking up, people cleaning off their tables, a group of young children, all in matching red caps, setting off on an adventure.

Our breakfast saviors!

Eyes on you!

No crumb's too small!

We can't tell why everyone is queued up at this gov't building.

Isn't this amazing?!

After breakfast Marilyn gets a coffee to go and as we’re walking we notice a shop with handicrafts.  The one that catches my eye is too big and impractical but I’ve never seen a fabric piece like it!  The technique is called painting with wool and is spectacular!

We head back to the hostel, collect our bags, say our good-byes and drag our bags along the cobblestone streets to our car.  Once everything is stowed we pull out the BIOB and set our course for Czestochowa, home of the Black Madonna.  It should take about two and a half hours, all on major roads.  The BIOB has other plans.  Four hours later we have seen a great deal of the Polish countryside and every type of country road.  We’ve also learned a lot about reprogramming her.

Strange angled pieces to reinforce these young apple trees!

Pleasant truck to be beside for a moment

Later, when we discussed the vagaries and vicissitudes of our GPS, we realize that we were taken on a pilgrimage, rather than a brief car trip.  Quite appropriate.

It is quite a happy surprise that when we approach “Centrum” or the town center we see the wonderful brown signs directing us to Jasna Gora, the monastery which houses Our Lady of Jasna Gora.  Although we aren’t quite there, we find a parking place and take it for fear there won’t be another.  Everything we have read says that this is the holiest place in all of Poland and that there are thousands of pilgrims who make the journey just to see the painting .  There is an unveiling most days at six am, but there wasn’t any way we could have managed that!

The story of the Black Madonna is filled with miracles, beginning with her creation by St. Luke.  The story begins with him painting her on a table top that was said to have been built by Jesus.  As he worked the Virgin told him the story of Christ’s life which later became the Gospel according to St Luke.  From there her journey is filled with miracles eventually culminating in her being credited with the saving of Poland.  The walls of the monastery which was built to protect her are lined with crutches, medals and other symbols of the miracles with which she has blessed her believers.  It’s a fascinating story and well worth reading:

www.ewtn.com/library/MARY/BLACKMA.htm

We don’t imagine that we can see the painting but the monastery itself will surely be worth the trip.  It is quite a vast installation with chapels, a treasury, knights’ hall, royal apartments, an arsenal, the Basilica of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary and Founding of the Holy Cross and even its own radio station!

The wall is constructed of red brick and fossiliferous limestone.

The "thous shall nots"

A representation of the Black Madonna on an exterior wall

We decide that seeing one or two of the chapels and walking the exterior walls should give us a good overview. The first building we walk into is the Basilica. I don’t think I’ve ever been as overwhelmed by a building’s interior.  Words cannot describe the majesty.  Everything is marble and gilt and the sheer magnitude serves to remind one of his insignificance in comparison to the Universe.

a side chapel

Again, not the real thing.  This one is in the ceiling.

Many moments are spent here in a vain attempt to capture some echo of this magnificence in pixels.  There is a smaller chapel next door, the Chapel of the Miraculous Image and we enter it next.  OH, this is where the Lady is!  And she is visible!  And there is a line, which we join, to be able to get close enough to, quick, take a photo or two before going behind the altar and coming out the other side.  Mass will begin shortly so our timing has been perfect.  No thanks to us!

Our first view.  We thought this was as close as we would get.

Some of the many symbols of miracle cures
that have been left here.

A cardinal's hat!

The painting has been blackened by the smoke from
so many votive candles over the centuries.

Walking up

Walking back

 As we are coming back up the side aisle I feel the same sensation as when we were at the Vortex in Sedona, AZ – the chills and tears associated with places of great power. Marilyn has felt that this whole trip has brought her closer to her Catholic roots and this stop certainly confirms her need to go back to the Church. It is hard to argue with the powerful presence here, regardless of the name you give it. 

We sit in one of the pews to gather ourselves and make liberal use of some tissues.  I notice that there is a large video screen mounted in such a way that those of us “in the cheap seats” can see the priests who are preparing for the mass.

Once we’ve regained our composure, we continue exploring.  We find the field in which about two thousand chairs are arranged for special events and, we suppose, Sunday morning mass.

An arsenal was vital to the protection of the monastery
and its sacred charge.

The Monastery gate

There is a group that is walking the Stations of the Cross and praying in Italian at each one.  Everywhere there are monks and nuns and priests.  Some must be in residence here while others are no doubt pilgrims, visiting the holy site.

Our tummies are now in revolt and we find a little shop across the street.  It’s not gourmet but I can get a “chickenburger”, which looks a lot like what you’d expect, and Marilyn has a “zapiekanka” which is what I’ve been looking at for a couple of weeks.  It was mushrooms and cheese with a strip of ketchup down the middle, on French bread.  Both were filling and we’re ready to strike out for home in Karkow.  This time we override the BIOB and only have one tiny, easily remedied, hiccup.  And it’s all main roads!  We’re on the watch for our familiar, S7 exit.  It’s still “x”ed out and we still don’t care!  It takes us where we need to go and that’s all that counts!

We've seen lots of people along the side of the
road, selling blue berries in jars.

This really scares us until we learned to ignore it!

We stop at the Lidl for some bread and salad fixin’s and we’re home.  Now the fun begins.  Somewhere along the line the house keys have disappeared.  After quite a bit of searching Marilyn suggests that perhaps the other keys on her car-key ring are for the two doors to the house.  Sure enough, we won’t have to sleep in the car.  We schlep everything up the stairs (but not as many as at the last hostel!) and can relax.

The washing machine has been fixed and we start our first load of laundry.  This front-loader doesn’t hold very much and we figure we have four loads.  We can get two done tonight, but probably only get one on the drying rack before bed.

Marilyn makes a beautiful salad and I take my bags to my room to begin the search for the keys in earnest.  And to play with the cat who remembers me after all!  He is quite a talker!  We open the balcony door and he enjoys from fresh air.  Out of the corner of my eye I see him dash back in with something large in his mouth!  He takes it under th bed and with a flashlight I can see that he’s got a bird!  It isn’t moving, thank goodness, but he can’t keep it!  Marilyn gently urges him out from under the bed with the mop and when he emerges I wrap him in my towel.  He drops the bird and is content in my arms.  Yay!  I hold on to him while Marilyn gets some paper towels and disposes of kitty’s prize.  Nothing like a little excitement for the evening!

He looks for it a little while but is easily distracted by lots of loves and skritches.  He is shedding unbelievably!  You wouldn’t know it to look at him; but he’s a long-haired baby! 

I’m tired and distressed and head for bed.  Kitty comes with me and cuddles for a little while, then goes away.  In an hour or so he’s back, talking like crazy and I again give him some attention and he settles down for a bit, then goes away.  It appears that he intends to talk and complain all night and I relent and let him into the rats’ room where he promptly jumps up on the bunk bed and goes to sleep.  That lets me finally go to sleep!