The first time I remember learning something important about pilgrimage was the 7th or 8th grade. I found cassette tapes in the library of MLK and Malcolm X. These men awakened in me awareness of the brutality hatred and discrimination aimed at African Americas in the US. Around this age I was learning about the Holocaust. It was rapid learning of the enormity of social injustice. Words from King and Malcolm X spoke to me of dignity.
As you heard earlier, Malcolm X expressed how his pilgrimage to Mecca had transformed him. Prior to his pilgrimage his experience of Islam had been the Nation Of Islam, a African American nationalist movement that then taught that whites were from the devil.
The effect of his Hajj was extraordinary! He experienced Muslims of different races and nations on pilgrimage together. The kindness and decency he witnessed there opened a new world of possibilities. For me, it laid a foundation for my liberal faith. Dramatic change of character was possible! So inspiring.
My knowledge of the power of pilgrimage probably influenced me in 1986, when I decided to take leave of absence from seminary to join a cross-country march for global nuclear disarmament. I believed our world was in imminent danger. Nuclear war would bring about nuclear winter and likely human extinction. Deciding to be part of the peace march was an act of faith. I believed it was a necessary part of my path to ministry.
The nine-month journey was life changing, an educational experience like no other. It was called a march rather than a pilgrimage. It aimed to have societal impact. Pilgrimages aim for personal and spiritual change.
In 1988 I set out for Europe and “The Interfaith Pilgrimage for Ecology and Disarmament.” I wasn’t thinking “pilgrimage”. I was just wanting to be part of a force for social change as I had in 86. During this pilgrimage a Buddhist man spoke to me saying: “If you want to do something about suffering in the world, do something about your own suffering!” Oh Whoa! I considered his words and eventually found great value in them. The pilgrimage enabled me to learn the importance of the inner journey as well as the outer one.
I landed in Geneva and caught up with the walk just over the French border. The pilgrimage had already gone through Germany and Switzerland. In France it is called the perinage of sant Jaque. The final destination was San Diego de Compestella. It is called the camino.
A pilgrimage even one with a social change agenda works quite differently from a march. The organizer Anne Stegmaier said “the pilgrimage operates in a dimension unlike the rest of life. It is like a dream. They have never seen any like this before, our band of international interfaith pilgrims cresting a hill and then passing down the other side.”
It was also not like a debate on tv. It worked in a very different way. I was learning that all valuable social change is made possible by the building of personal relationships.
The experience at night was also amazing. Many public events were hosted by local groups. Other nights were intimate gatherings.
I remember the night that Max and Emile met. Max was our 2nd oldest pilgrim. He was 50 something, and at the time, that seemed really old to me. He was muscular and tough. I asked him how he kept in such good shape. “Do you go to the gym?” “I work!” he replied.
This night we stayed on a lovely little farm. Emile one of our hosts, was about the same age as Max. The two of them were very engaged. They talked together for some time without interruption. Something special was happening there.
At dinner Max proposed a toast. Max and Emile had been soldiers for their countries during WWII. Max told us that in childhood, he had learned to hate the French. Emile acknowledged that growing up, he had learned to hate Germans too. As Max spoke, the two looked at each other gently. With his wine glass in his hand, Max expressed thanks for the hospitality and gratitude for that the pilgrimage had given him this night, this experience. I was stunned by what came next: tears came out of Max’s eyes. It wasn’t long before Emile too and many of us shared tears.
What we were sharing was much more than the words. It was something on the faces, in the eyes. The world was changing before our eyes. The nightmare past was falling away. Max and Emile were as old friends, and there we were, pilgrims from West and East, North and South. Our bellies filled with simple delicious French food, our bones were tired but strengthened by a day of walking. The summer night air laid gently on our skin. These soldiers were now free men, armored no more. It was a blessed communion, and an Earthy bit of heaven abiding with us.
Then to sleep for breakfast always came early. Morning circle was not to be missed. Appreciations and goodbyes. And then our pilgrim line moved out away from the farm.
We trudged up mountain trails and passed through small villages. Each day there was feasting for our eyes. Every village had a church. Although usually not large, they were no less impressive. Previously I viewed churches as fortresses and masses of wealth, theft from oppressed people. These sanctuaries spoke to me in ways I would not forget. Sitting in stillness and silence, walls and vaulted ceilings holding us, welcoming us to rest. Sanctuaries opening me in gentle awe, calling me into awareness of that which is present and is beyond here, being with the holy in this carved out space.
For me, the pilgrimage was like immersion into meditation. I was moved by the rhythms of the day. Each morning, a sunrise, a simple breakfast, a community circle. Each day we walked, and the exertion fit the pastoral setting. Each evening, another gathering and a community meal. Each evening a sunset, songs, and then star-filled sky.
I was impressed by two of my fellow pilgrims who were attending seminary in Germany. Their company inspired me. I became determined to make the most of my one last semester back in Berkeley.
When it was time to leave, I cried like I had never done before. That pilgrimage stands out for its beauty and its dreamlike quality. As I recall it, I feel a sweet sadness, gratitude and humility.
I’m incredibly fortunate that there were more pilgrimages to come. I will mostly save the others for another time, and shift into considering what makes a pilgrimage.
A religious pilgrimage is a journey to a holy site. I believe this goes back to a theme we talked about in December, home for the holidays. Coming together has always been a key ingredient. These religious gatherings happened at harvest time, and temples were built to house the rituals and the gatherings.
Populations scattered, in exile, migration, and expansion. Religious traditions developed around sacred stories. Often these stories and traditions encouraged followers to cherish revere and make pilgrimage to specific holy sites. Jews go to the Western Wall, Buddhists to Bode Gaya, Pagans to Stonehenge. Islam requires its all Muslims who have the means to make Hajj, a pilgrimage to Mecca.
Along with reverence for holy sites, pilgrimages often place as much importance on the journey itself. Through the ages, people have gone on pilgrimage to deepen, strengthen or enhance their faith, their values, their sense of the meaning and purpose in life, and their relationship with the divine. Pilgrims have traveled to sacred places seeking healing from an illness, an ailment, or trauma. People have gone on pilgrimage on behalf of a loved one.
In 1992, I walked from Louisiana to D.C, the last section of the Quincentennial Pilgrimage for Peace and Life. It was a walk which began in Panama and continued through Central America enroute to Washington D.C. It was a walk of penitence and reflection of 500 years of colonialism. The stated intention for pilgrims was to learn history of colonial oppression, gather stories and wisdom from Indigenous People.
In preparing this sermon, I begam wondering what pilgrimages our denomination could offer to support a deeper understanding of our tradition, support our spirituality, faith and values. And a pilgrimage means a journey to connect with transformative power.
Throughout history people have made pilgrimages and prayed for transformative experiences. They have hoped for direct experience of transcendent mystery; epiphanies, mystical, religious experience and spiritual awakening.
If that doesn’t sound appealing to you, you could think of a pilgrimage as a journey with the intention to connect more deeply with our greatest values. On your pilgrimage, you could not for anything supernatural, but to grow of appreciation of nature itself. Walking, especially great distances, does influence you to become more aware of nature. If historically, Pilgrims have sought to grow closer to G*d, you seek to draw closer to nature, becoming aware of a vast reality that usually remains out of human consciousness.
Solidarity is another reason people make a pilgrimage. Part of the pilgrimage of 1992 included walking along the route known as the Trail of Tears. Many of us fasted for one or more days while also walking 23 miles each day. One of our evening programs included a presentation informing us about the history of the trail of tears. I believe that fasting open us to better receive the history lesson.
You might choose to do a pilgrimage to be in solidarity with a group or a person that you love. I imagine this is one reason many people travel to lands where their ancestors lived.
People also make pilgrimage as a response to loss, transition or a milestone. Recently graduated, retired, divorced, widowed? Last one flew the coop? Making a pilgrimage might be a great way to acknowledge, mourn, celebrate, honor, acknowledge or act as a gateway to the next aspect of your life journey.
Remember the journey can be more important than the destination. Your pilgrimage destination might not be a religious site. What path would support you in deep reflection? Which one might be a balm to your wound? What pilgrimage would require you to stretch, transform and prepare for the next leg of your life journey?
Traditionally pilgrimages have involved a journey of many miles. However, some journeys and distances can’t be measured in miles. You could probably do a pilgrimage without leaving town.
You can make a pilgrimage all by yourself or choose traveling companions. I highly recommend factoring in needed support and community. As always, the possibilities are limitless. Imagination and creativity are essential for a liberally religious life. We play with metaphors. We dance with symbols and rituals.
Whether you are traveling with companions or solo, I ask this of you: Remember that this community holds a place for your return. Remember we are cheering you on, and we bow to the divine in you. We cherish the love that holds us all together, and we have faith that revelation will continue. We’re going to keep on singing our peace and walking our way to the beloved community still to come.
So until next time, Namaste’ and Happy Trails!
Recent Comments