There’s likely many formal definitions of the word “pilgrimage.” A quick Google search will prove this. I’ve looked up the word many times and resonate with many aspects of the definitions I’ve read. Then I went on several pilgrimages. I’m writing this reflection after my latest and longest one waking the Camino de Santiago. After five adventurous and mysterious days of walking and running alongside my wife and new friends I got up early the next morning. I was woken not by my alarm clock but by my stirred spirit. Here are the words that were literally swimming in my head as I woke up. I walked straight to a chapel in Santiago, Spain simultaneously praying and writing what was in my heart.
To me, a pilgrimage is a journey that’s prompted by an invitation, intuition, or perhaps even desperation. But hindsight reveals the initiation of the Spirit in the steps of the Son who made every turn at the will of His Father.
How many miles did Jesus walk across Israel? How many towns did His disciples visit as He sent them out? How many people and situations did they encounter? He gave them everything they needed but told them to take very little. He knew everything they would encounter as they experienced things they could never have imagined. They didn’t learn in a classroom, at a conference, or on a website. Their bodies, minds, hearts and souls were integrated as they listened to the very Word of God. And they went out to share that Word with the world. We have some biblical accounts of Philip, Peter, and certainly Paul. But that’s likely just a fragment of the paths that were pioneered by the 12 and their companions. Legend holds that the Apostle James made it all the way to Spain to share the gospel. The Way of Saint James (or El Camino as it’s called) is currently one of the top 3 places pilgrims journey to walk, to serve, to pray and to listen.
For pilgrims the speed of life slows down. It’s much easier to see things, feel things, taste things, smell things, hear things that were always there, but not always noticeable or valued. The noise of life is replaced by beautiful silence and the things that weigh us down fall away step-by-step. As the disciples on the road to Emmaus testify, the veil is lifted from eyes and hearts burn deep within.
This story is my favorite one in scripture. In that same spirit (and with my wife’s blessing and prompting) I ran the final leg of our journey. I experience God in beautiful ways when I run. I was hoping to arrive for morning mass. After a 15km trek through the trail and downtown Santiago I arrived in front of the cathedral with 5 minutes until mass was to start. Not surprising there was not a huge sign saying, “Hey crazy American guy…mass in English is over here!” So my 5 minutes of margin was definitely dwindling quickly as I looked for an entry point in the towering structure surrounded by gates and doors and crowds.
With the help of some kind locals I was able to find the chapel and entered with seconds to spare. I sat down in the front row. The rest of the room was packed. I was soaked in mud and sweat and rain. The bottom of my shoes carried fragments of earth spanning over 70 miles of Spanish terrain. But I wasn’t in much worse shape than the other pilgrims who had also finished within the past 24 hours. I took off my hat in reverence and tried to comb my hair down a bit. The first part of the mass was unique. Each person was asked to introduce themselves and provide their place of origin. I was in shock as I witnessed the diversity of pilgrims telling their brief stories. It was easy to see the Camino written on the expressions on their faces. I followed suit and indicated that I had literally just arrived.
Then the priest stood up to speak. Thankfully I remembered to grab my phone so I could record his homily. Here’s what he shared…
“We come together today at this beautiful morning mass celebrating. We are filled with so many beautiful and blessed memories. We are privileged to be able to do the Camino. And I’m sure everyone wants this Camino experience to be integrated in their “everyday Camino.” As we celebrate this very moment of completing the Camino we also initiate a kind of transition from the Camino Santiago to our everyday lives. We recall these moments of silence and solitude when God was so close to us. As Saint Augustine says, “God is closer to us than we are to ourselves.” Most of the time we walk on concrete. But the Camino has given us so many moments to walk on the earth and to feel that connection with God’s creation.
We have heard chirping of birds. We have smelt the eucalyptus or the pine trees. We have seen flowers all over the place, different shapes, sizes and colors, greeting us each and every day. We’ve seen the beautiful forest, the river beside, that is so refreshing. But we also felt the heat of the sun on our faces. The wind and the rain and the mud and the rocks made our journey hard. These are the things that make our Camino more meaningful and beautiful.
We have also experienced goodness and kindness from total strangers. And we can say we have met Camino angels who came to our rescue, especially in those times that we got lost and we needed find those yellow arrows. We have met pilgrims from over the world, strangers at first, and then becoming friends for life. The stories and the meals that we share together set us in this bond of friendship.
But we bring here not only the good, the pleasant and the beautiful. We bring here our pains, our anxieties, and our fears. On the very first day we felt the fear of starting the Camino. And perhaps now we feel the fear of going back home and facing the reality of our everyday lives. There’s uncertainty. What’s going to happen? Sometimes we feel frustration because our expectations are not met. Sometimes we feel anger because problems remain the same. Others will say, “I was supposed to find answers on the Camino but I only found more questions.” We feel this joy of reaching Santiago safely in one piece. But also that sadness as we say goodbye to friends that we have encountered along the way.
Bring to God today all of these memories. Bring all of these moments. Bring the intentions of you and your family that you have carried here. Offer them together with these offerings of bread and wine. Then this community experience will also be transformed into a blessing, into a grace, into a prayer that will always stay with us and we can share with our loved ones.
At the finish line of the Camino is the altar and the cross and the table of the Lord. We come here this morning recognizing our need for God’s gift of forgiveness and healing as we humble ourselves. We recognize our brokenness and our wounds. But at the same time we also express our joy and our confidence in the God we encounter. God is present in each and every one of us. God forgives. God heals. God makes us whole again. Lord, like arrows along the Camino You are present in our lives. Even at times during our work, our occupations, our distractions, and our indifference we fail to acknowledge and celebrate Your presence. And so we say, Lord, take all the challenges, burdens and uncertainties of life. You bless us so generously in ways we don’t deserve. Thank you for this overflowing of graces and blessings!
¡BUEN CAMINO!”
I couldn’t have set the stage for the completion of my pilgrimage better than the priest did. The mass and his homily revealed that Pilgrims see more clearly the beauty of a world outside of self-focus and self-interest. Coming from a place that is filled with self-gratification and the worship of false gods we are captured by the glory of God. We are not lost. But we don’t know precisely where we are going or when we will finish our journey. We are captured by the present as the pains of the past and the uncertainties of the future fade. We ecan only follow the prompts of each turn or the sight of the closest pilgrim in front of them.
At this pace and in this frame strangers become neighbors. Neighbors become friends. Some friends become closer than some family. But no matter what everyone seems more human, made in the image of God, not objects to be used, abused, taken for granted or ignored. Some provide help. Some accept help. Some help each other on the Camino, the Way. We met a couple from Canada on Day 1. I had walked ahead and stopped at a place to rest. I was waiting for Shawna with some refreshments when I get a call from a Canadian number. I’m glad I answered because it was a Shawna saying she had gotten lost along with some kind friends who helped her and escorted her to our rendezvous point. We will all be friends for life as we shared the rest of the trip together and packed in countless stories for the rest of our journey.
A pilgrimage is not a vacation. It’s not a tour. It’s a journey with an intention, but not always a purpose that is 100% clear. What is clear is that it’s not a well-deserved break from a hard days work. It’s not about seeking comfort. However, it’s not a mindless chore either. It’s difficult and inconvenient while inspiring, even fulfilling at the same time. And the best fuel for the journey is not money or bread or water. It’s faith and hope and love.
It’s a journey that ends different than it began. And the pilgrims are perhaps better than they began, not necessarily happier, but maybe healthier, or even more whole. Yes, there is a cost for travel, for equipment, and for any number of things. But the potential benefits could never be compared. For the prayers are not for material wealth or worldly comfort. They are for the very hearts and souls of those who are on the path. No, there are no guarantees for these kinds of outcomes. But there are no guarantees when we spend far greater on health care, insurance, or retirement. After the Camino, my wife gave me a blessing and then prayed a prayer publicly as she gave testimony to her innermost heart. I would give all that I have ever earned and so much more to hear what she shared. I will leave far richer than I arrived. As one of my heroes Jim Elliot says, “he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he will never lose.”
It’s hard to describe a pilgrimage unless you’re talking to a fellow pilgrim. Those shared experiences can’t truly be expressed in words. Images can not be fully captured with the camera or a canvass. But pilgrims store these things in their hearts forever as they journey on the ultimate pilgrimage of life.
This is what a pilgrimage means to me.
“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” – St. Augustine
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Written on the steps of the Cathedral at Santiago de Compostela, Spain after a 117 km journey on foot with my wife Shawna and our new friends Ero and Wayne from Halifax Canada, June 11, 2023