A few years ago now, I walked several different pilgrimage paths as part of an extended study leave. I was curious about walking historical pilgrimages and it made sense in my mind to walk a portion of some routes that have been wandered by many a seeker for hundreds of years. I wanted to explore a little bit about pilgrimage walks and their impact on the spiritual journey. Two in particular I reflect upon with great regularity.
The first was the Way of St. Cuthbert. A beautiful trail that meanders through much gorgeous countryside in the north-eastern part of England. And the walk started well as the weather was stunning, warm and comfortable. I set out with confidence and enthusiasm to meet up with the trail. Not long in, I came across a signpost pointing in two directions that helped me to know that I was on the right path but neither showed me which direction I needed to head towards Lindisfarne or Holy Island. I asked some folks who I hoped were knowledgeable and after the fifth person gave me a reasonable answer, I set out only two hours later than I had planned. And as I kept going, I discovered a few small plaques indicating the way and it was feeling good. The sun was still shining and the path stretched out before me. Then I no longer saw any markers, only beautiful countryside. This can’t be good. I backtracked until I found a tiny marker hidden by a bush that suggested I take a right turn. So, I did, and not long after I was no longer seeing markers again but about to enter a field warning of a bull on the loose… and so went much of the day. After about ten hours of walking, backtracking, seeking hidden trail markers, wondering if someone had stolen the trail markers and a few other surprises, the sun was setting, the badgers were coming out and my enthusiasm was waning. So, I did what any sensible person would do and called a cab. Otherwise, I would still be walking on unmarked unknown paths. It was cheating I suppose in terms of a walking pilgrimage, but many wrong turns seemed linked with real life.
The second pilgrimage route was part of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. This one had so many signposts and arrows and markers it would have been hard to get lost, even for me. And with so many people on the path wishing each other “Buen Camino”, it was hard to go astray. But there was a beautiful energy to the walk, people had a purpose, each different but committed to treading the same path that thousands had walked before. And it felt like we were supporting each other as we walked along. There was a clear indication that this was a well-trod path, with an intention to get to a specific destination.
I was thinking about these pilgrimage experiences, both quite different but both taught me much about what it means to search out the spiritual way in life. And I was thinking about these pilgrimage experiences because in the gospel for today, Jesus said to Thomas, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” I am the way, the truth and the life. These words have transformed and altered lives ever since. They are an invitation to a pilgrimage that will meander and twist and turn, it will take you out of the fast lane and into a place of seeking greater depth and meaning. An invitation of discovery that indeed there is so much more to this life than what often takes up most of our time. An invitation to discover more about a way, a truth, a life that will change and transform you. And if we take time to seriously ponder these words with purpose and intent they will affect how we walk in this world.
For this Jesus that we follow has a way of getting under our skin. He has a way of turning things upside down so that suddenly the last are first and the first last. Suddenly we are called to love our enemies and do good to those who hate us. Suddenly we are thinking more carefully about our neighbour and what it means to love them as ourselves. We are thinking about how we are peacemakers and ones who thirst for righteousness.
Pope Francis said this a few years ago, that seems linked to this pilgrimage we are on: “Compassion allows you to see reality; compassion is like the lens of the heart: it allows us to take in and understand the true dimensions. In the Gospels, Jesus is often moved by compassion. And compassion is also the language of God.” He went on to say, “Our God is a God of compassion, and compassion—we can say—is the weakness of God, but also God’s strength.”
So what does it mean to you that Jesus is the way, and the truth, and the life? How does it form a lens on the heart like Pope Francis’ understanding of compassion? How does it influence how you view the world? How does it influence how you view other people? For some, these words have suggested an exclusivity of separation of Christians from the rest of the population. I don’t think that this perspective is very helpful. Rather the opposite is what we are called into with a compassion that draws us into the world around us.
A little later in the gospel, our beloved Saint Philip said to Jesus, “Show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” This is the central question that many human beings ask. Phrased differently, how do I draw closer to God? What is the true purpose to life? What is at the core and heart of it all? And many people who take time out on a pilgrimage or in prayer or in grief or in despair or in contemplation spend time with these very questions as well. And often they discover that there is indeed a way, a truth and a life. And it is centred on respecting the dignity of every human being, of loving our neighbour as ourselves, of living for others as much as living for yourself, of recognizing God’s presence in and around us calling us deeper into the core of life.
Today we are remembering the 100th anniversary of St. Philip’s. This community has been on this pilgrimage of faith for a long time; reflecting upon what it means to be a follower of Christ in our time and our place. And it has been filled with wrong turns and right pathways, with losing the way and finding the truth, with stumbling and seeking the help of another. Maybe not the point of calling a cab but recognizing that our faith is in the one who wanted to be a servant. This is what it means to be a Christian and what it means to be a Christian community. For 100 years people of all stripes have gathered here to draw closer in to learn more about this Jesus and this way, truth and life, this compassion, this hope, this recognition that there is more to our lives than is often advertized.
And so today we thank and remember those who have gone before: clergy, lay leaders, wardens, organists, musicians, caretakers, parish administrators, Church School teachers, youth group leaders, Christian formation teachers, rummage sale coordinators, sides-people, altar guild members, coffee makers and all sorts of others. All working to reveal the way, the truth and the life. And Jesus continues to invite us into this pilgrimage.