It’s easy for me to get exasperated when traveling. After the hassle of just getting out of the house and to the airport, it’s not uncommon for me to already be surly at the check-in desk, well before the first flight is wheels-up. It’s not unknown to go on a trip with the high expectations of unsullied rest and relaxation and return with only memories of irritations and annoyances. And it’s a well-known pitfall that pilgrims often set out with high anticipation of spiritual ecstasy, only to find their expectation dashed by a myriad of traveler’s woes.
I’ve never taken a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and to be honest I’m not sure that I ever will. I just don’t think it would live up to my expectations. Because of the crush of tourists, I hear that the streets are replete with kiosks of tourist tchotchkes.
There is an unhealthy competition between Christian and other religious factions who figuratively, and literally, elbow one another for access to holy sites. Add to that, the political unrest and slant that many of the tours guides unapologetically offer.
I fear that if I went on that trip, I would go with expectations of literally walking in Joshua’s and David’s and Jesus’ and Paul’s footsteps, but I’d return with a cynicism about the intractable troubles of Israel and Palestine and how monetized religion has become. [But this is just me, and please don’t let me dissuade you from going if you can and want to go, or allow me to sully your memories, if you have gone to the Holy Land.]
A few years ago, following the deaths of loved ones, Tracy Shaffer set out on the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage as a walk to do some spiritual searching. Unfortunately, in the first days, she fell victim to what most walking pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago suffer — blistered feet.
She’s not alone; I’ve heard that many pilgrims say most of the 500-mile-long walking route is an exercise in blistered-foot care. Pilgrims set out with hopes that their souls will be spiritually enlightened, but find most of their focus is on discomfort in the soles of their feet.
The lived-experience of a Camino pilgrimage is truly humbling. Pilgrims must learn to go at a pace their body dictates. They learn to rest, lest, pushing too hard, they end up forced to abandon the pilgrimage. They learn, whatever their expectations, the pilgrimage experience is something else, and part of the blessing of the journey is accepting their walk with humility.
When the Magi set out on their westerly course to worship and offer gifts to the newborn King of the Jews, dictated by the star they observed at its rising, they set their GPS to the right place: they set out to Jerusalem — the big city, the Mecca (if you will) for Jewish power. Gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh would have fit right in. But, they — and the star — missed Jerusalem by five miles. Bethlehem probably wasn’t even on the Magi’s map as it was so humble. It was little more than a dusty village of non-descript residents who probably had never seen more than a few flecks of gold.
We’ve set out on our pilgrimage to Easter, looking forward to the glory and majesty of Christ’s resurrection morning. But, that glory takes us first to Christ’s cross and with a call to take up our own cross as well.
I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what to expect from this Lenten devotional series. You’ll remember during the first few days I encouraged everyone to get outside for a walk, when, as it turned out, we were hunkered down in sub-freezing weather. That was a humbling reminder that despite the best laid plans, I can’t control the weather. You may have high hopes for a grand new insight into God’s great mercy and love. And perhaps that is what you’ll receive! But if not, don’t let that dissuade you from being open to the humble gifts of this walk.
Just yesterday as I was out, exploring an off-path neighborhood on my bike, I rolled by a friend’s house and happily he was out front. Both our families have been cautious through the COVID closures, so we hadn’t seen one another since last year. We conversed for about 10 minutes in front of the house, catching up on family happenings and recent events. As I clicked into my pedals to roll away, my friend mentioned how good it felt to talk to another adult in person. As I turned back home I had to agree, humble as it was, it was a blessing and well worth the effort to go so far out of my usual way.
Rev. Dr. David Chisham
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