THE SHROUD

THE SHROUD

Before I embark on telling you about our perils of the rails- I have to pay homage to our viewing of the Shroud of Turin because it was without a doubt, one of the coolest, most awesome and spiritual moments of our lives. We ended up standing directly in front of the Shroud, probably not more than 8 feet from its expanse, in the dead center of the group, front row- it could not have turned out better.

If this is the burial cloth of Jesus, and after seeing it this close, Carol and I are both convinced that it is- it was truly unlike any earthly thing that we’ve ever seen in terms of an image. When you look at it, you can see that its not painted on the cloth, stitched or drawn—it just IS the cloth- and the more you look at it, it just radiates energy. Needless to say, it’s a lot to swallow for a Friday morning in Mid-May.

So look at this picture- and this isn’t one I got off the internet- it’s the one I took yesterday morning, while standing 8 feet from the Shroud of Turin, in an ancient square in Torino, Italy across the street from the home of Pontius Pilate. Life has been rather surreal the last few days. In person you could clearly see the wounds in his head where the crown dug into his forehead, and wounds that dripped blood across the nape of his neck- which makes you realize the crown was at a sharp angle rather than sitting on top of his head like so many artistic presentations show it.

You can see the wound in the hands/wrists where the spikes went in- as they are folded across his body. And the wounds in the feet, which are bloodied from behind. The Shroud is joined head (front) to head (back) showing wounds on both sides of his body. 2,000 years later it makes me wince to see those lash marks across his back.

An Italian military man was standing in full dress uniform guarding the Shroud and a nun read a prayer as we stood. People were SILENT- you could only hear their breathing. Native Italians leaving the church were stopping and crossing themselves, genuflecting and then crossing themselves again backing all the way out of the cathedral. This was serious stuff- as pilgrimages so. And it clearly is one that we are glad to have participated in and won’t ever forget.