Visiting Jasna Gora, the holy pilgrimage site of the Black Madonna and Child in Czestochowa, was a visit of historical significance to me, rather than religious, as with all other churches, cathedrals, basilica’s etcetera that I visit (and there have been soooo many!)

Just before 1pm we entered the Jasna Gora Monastery. As with most churches that I’ve visited in Europe I was struck by the beauty immediately. But this is not what we came to see. We entered the room/chapel next door, already filled with hundreds of people who had come to see the Black Madonna and Child. We squeezed into a space about midway down the chapel and waited with baited breath to see what was going to happen. At the front of the chapel was a black gate and behind it sat the altar. Above the altar, a gold frame, with a blank gold cover. Behind this was the famous Black Madonna and Child which were all waiting to see unveiled. Pilgrims from all over come to see this painting and pray before it.

At 1pm exactly loud music rang out around the chapel. Trumpets sounded, and the crowd around us suddenly went to their knees. We followed suit. I have to admit, I was moved close to tears. I wasn’t sure whether it was the emotion of the moment, or the pain in my knees from kneeling on a marble floor. Certainly I felt a swell of something, and this I supposed was the power of religion, a large group of people all feeling something quite spiritual at the same time.

I looked ahead and slowly, as the music played and singing commenced, the gold cover rose inch by inch to reveal the painting beneath. Before it was fully unveiled some people started standing and I joined them, unable to bear the pain in my already old lady dodgy knees. Once the painting was fully revealed and the music stopped, the Mass began. We then silently observed this amazing painting. Scholars are unsure of the exact date it was painted, but it is pre 1430, which explains why it is covered except for 1-2 hours per day. Many miracles are attributed to the image of Our Lady of Czestochowa and it is the most venerated in this part of Europe.

Some were there to attend Mass. Some were there to take photos of a famous painting. As we jostled for a place further forward we were led by a family member to a side passage that would take us directly past the painting, as the priest continued with the Mass. I was excited that I was going to be able to see it up close. I didn’t know the price though……and oh yes, there was a price.

Following those in front of us, we got closer and realised we were in line for the actual pilgrimage, which involved walking past the painting ON YOUR KNEES! On marble floors. For about ten metres. OUCH! It was too late to turn back though. We were in sight of the priest and we had no choice but to get on our knees and move forward, inch by painful inch. I guess that is the purpose of a pilgrimage though, going through the pain for their beliefs. It wouldn’t be much of a pilgrimage if it was comfortable.

In single file we pilgrims marched on our knees, and I made it to the end and turned to the right down a narrow passage behind the wall of the painting. Here we could get to our feet at last. Ten more metres, another right turn, and OH NO! Back on our knees and waddling down the other side past the painting. Oh the excruciating pain of it all. Tears stung my eyes as I tried different ways to move, sliding, shuffling, anything, until I reached the end and bolted upright as soon as possible.

My knees were tender for about 4 days after this, but I have to say, the experience was worth it. I may not have found my religion again, but I did develop more of an understanding of it.