A furry messenger of peace at a papal ceremony in Jerusalem
By Michael Mountain
(One of a collection of articles related to St. Francis Day, which is celebrated with a Blessing of the Animals by many churches in October.)
It was Pope John Paul II’s last day in the Holy Land, in March 2000, and he was about to approach the Western “Wailing” Wall in Jerusalem.
All week, he had listened to the prayers, pleas, and speeches of people who remained locked in the age-old grip of bitter conflict and hatred.
Now he was at ground zero in those few acres of land that are claimed not only by two nations as their capital, but also by an intricate web of factions inside denominations within religions, all condensed and compacted together like matter in the final stages of a neutron star.
In a few moments, the Pope, whose church has been no stranger to the conflict, would step forward with his own written prayer and follow the custom of placing it in one of the cracks of the Wall.
Perhaps he was thinking of the words of the prophet Isaiah who prayed for a time when “they will beat the swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks” and when “nation will no longer lift up sword against nation, neither will they learn war anymore.”
Can all the inherited hatred and suffering of this region truly be set aside? Will peace one day ever really come to this ancient cradle of modern civilization?
Just before the Pope stepped forward to the Wall, and with security as tight as a drum, an intruder appeared out of the crowd and crossed in front of him. This charming but uninvited guest was a small black-and-white cat. A well-to-do house kitty, perhaps, no stranger to crowds and demonstrations, simply taking his morning walk? Or perhaps a homeless feline making her urgent daily round for scraps of food, too hungry to wait till the people went away? We shall never know. While throngs of people prayed with the Pope that day for the coming of the Prince of Peace, perhaps only those with eyes to see could recognize his furry messenger appearing right in their midst.
But the moment may have been a poignant one for a small handful of Israelis and Palestinians who had managed to set aside their differences quietly, even secretly, to help the homeless dogs and cats and other animals in war-torn neighborhoods where to be seen together can still bring charges of treachery and collaboration with the enemy.
Regardless of the danger, small groups of people on both sides would continue to go out at night, when the guns were quiet for a few hours, to help each other rescue and put out food for the injured animals.
In war-torn zones where each side tries to portray itself as the innocent victim, it is surely the terrified, homeless, innocent animals, knowing nothing of national boundaries and share no ethnic and religious animosities, who are the ultimate victims.
And the ultimate heroes of war are perhaps those small groups of people who, all too aware of boundaries and animosities, nonetheless set hatred aside to help the animals. They are the true peacemakers, knowing instinctively that kindness to animals makes a better world for all of us.
While throngs of people prayed with the Pope that day for the coming of the Prince of Peace, perhaps only those with eyes to see could recognize his furry messenger appearing right in their midst.
Angel in Their Midst
By Michael Mountain,
A furry messenger of peace at a papal ceremony in Jerusalem
By Michael Mountain
(One of a collection of articles related to St. Francis Day, which is celebrated with a Blessing of the Animals by many churches in October.)
It was Pope John Paul II’s last day in the Holy Land, in March 2000, and he was about to approach the Western “Wailing” Wall in Jerusalem.
All week, he had listened to the prayers, pleas, and speeches of people who remained locked in the age-old grip of bitter conflict and hatred.
Now he was at ground zero in those few acres of land that are claimed not only by two nations as their capital, but also by an intricate web of factions inside denominations within religions, all condensed and compacted together like matter in the final stages of a neutron star.
In a few moments, the Pope, whose church has been no stranger to the conflict, would step forward with his own written prayer and follow the custom of placing it in one of the cracks of the Wall.
Perhaps he was thinking of the words of the prophet Isaiah who prayed for a time when “they will beat the swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks” and when “nation will no longer lift up sword against nation, neither will they learn war anymore.”
Can all the inherited hatred and suffering of this region truly be set aside? Will peace one day ever really come to this ancient cradle of modern civilization?
Just before the Pope stepped forward to the Wall, and with security as tight as a drum, an intruder appeared out of the crowd and crossed in front of him. This charming but uninvited guest was a small black-and-white cat. A well-to-do house kitty, perhaps, no stranger to crowds and demonstrations, simply taking his morning walk? Or perhaps a homeless feline making her urgent daily round for scraps of food, too hungry to wait till the people went away? We shall never know.
While throngs of people prayed with the Pope that day for the coming of the Prince of Peace, perhaps only those with eyes to see could recognize his furry messenger appearing right in their midst.
But the moment may have been a poignant one for a small handful of Israelis and Palestinians who had managed to set aside their differences quietly, even secretly, to help the homeless dogs and cats and other animals in war-torn neighborhoods where to be seen together can still bring charges of treachery and collaboration with the enemy.
Regardless of the danger, small groups of people on both sides would continue to go out at night, when the guns were quiet for a few hours, to help each other rescue and put out food for the injured animals.
In war-torn zones where each side tries to portray itself as the innocent victim, it is surely the terrified, homeless, innocent animals, knowing nothing of national boundaries and share no ethnic and religious animosities, who are the ultimate victims.
And the ultimate heroes of war are perhaps those small groups of people who, all too aware of boundaries and animosities, nonetheless set hatred aside to help the animals. They are the true peacemakers, knowing instinctively that kindness to animals makes a better world for all of us.
While throngs of people prayed with the Pope that day for the coming of the Prince of Peace, perhaps only those with eyes to see could recognize his furry messenger appearing right in their midst.
See also:
Blessings Galore at St. John the Divine – Inside Manhattan’s Cathedral Church as people await the Blessing of the Animals service.
Washington’s Official Cathedral Cat – She was a stray kittie found in an overgrown parking lot.
Angel in Their Midst– A furry messenger at a papal ceremony
Could Grandma Come Back as a Squirrel?– Thoughts on the Buddhist concept of reincarnation
How the Faith-Based Community Can Help the Animals– by former Congressman Chris Shays.