A pilgrim’s work in progress
If I’m on a pilgrimage, does that mean I’m a pilgrim? A pilgrim can be defined as someone making a journey to a sacred place for religious reasons. Am I comfortable self-identifying as a pilgrim? What are my ‘religious reasons’ and how are they motivating me? And what about if the destination of that ‘sacred and holy place’ is Swanage?! A plethora of questions, much like my mind much of the time. Thoughts sparking and flying, processing and planning.
A group of seventeen of us embarked on a two-day pilgrimage at the beginning of April. I entered it with a fairly open mind about what to expect, hoping that our two boys would enjoy it too. From the start we discovered we would walk slowly. We noticed. Our journey was intentional. We listened to each other. We responded in the moment. We used our senses. We embraced simplicity. Simple physical acts carried meaning – throwing stones into a stream, making a story stick, taking off our shoes and feeling the ground beneath bare feet.
Too often I go through life trying to fit the next thing in. Evenings and weekends quickly fill with jobs and activities, meaning I am constantly moving onto the next thing. Going on a pilgrimage helped, for a short period, to strip that away. There was no to-do list. Less human do-ing and more human be-ing.
The idea of thin places appeals to me. A thin place can be a moment of transcendence, where our often self-imposed division between the physical and the spiritual is reduced, where the connection to the divine is more palpable or intense. It can be where time and the eternal meet. In busyness and rush, it is easy to miss these encounters. One such thin place on the pilgrimage for me came when we walked in silence for about ten minutes. As it transpired, this coincided with waiting at a crossing for a steam train to pass. A time that would normally be filled with chatter was held in deep quietness, listening to the building crescendo of wheels on tracks, whistles and steam, quickly to be replaced by stillness. It makes me think of the story in 1 Kings 19 where Elijah doesn’t hear the voice of God in a hurricane or an earthquake but in a whisper. A reminder that to hear, we need to ensure we listen.
Sleeping on the floor in a cold church. Eating a simple but wholesome vegetable stew. A buttercup growing amid a bunch of nettles. A pilgrimage experience that was not linear.
In the last week, I’ve watched the latest season of Pilgrimage. What struck me was the variety of responses the celebrities had. One said it felt almost indulgent. Others found clarity in faith or renewed hope. For someone, there was an element of healing. On our shorter pilgrimage, there were a similar broad range of experiences which you can read in an earlier post.
Answering some of the questions in my opening paragraph might seem the natural or logical way to conclude this blog. However, earlier concerns may no longer seem necessary or relevant. Priorities change. The focus has shifted. Pilgrimage was not an argument to be won or a point to be made or a lesson to be learned. It was an experience.
I can’t tell you what your pilgrimage would be like, should you have the opportunity to go on one. But I can recommend it. And I can advise you to lean into it, to embrace it. There’s lots to be gained from slowing down, paying attention and allowing yourself to be malleable. And hopefully I’ll be there to walk alongside you on the next one Ocean Church organise.
