So my church is going on a pilgrimage to the border of the U.S. and Mexico this Fall and I am going with them. I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting as I prepare, and I have to tell you that one of the things I keep reflecting on is why I don’t want to go on a pilgrimage. I’ve even made a list. So here are the top three reasons I don’t want to go on a pilgrimage:
- Pilgrimage is uncomfortable. I have a king-sized bed. This is not a metaphor. I sleep in a king-sized bed with my own comforter. I use a body pillow and a sleep mask. Here’s something really embarrassing: when I am traveling somewhere by car, I just throw my body pillow in the trunk and take it with me so I can sleep better. If I’m being totally honest, sometimes I bring the comforter too. Do you see what I’m getting at? There aren’t king-sized beds and comforters on a pilgrimage. People don’t make a pilgrimage to a resort – I guess it’s not holy enough.
Pilgrimage is designed to make you a little uncomfortable actually. It takes you to inconvenient places, and its primary focus is not on your relaxation – or even your enjoyment. Going on a pilgrimage means me getting over myself and my comfort.
- Pilgrimage requires movement. This one probably seems beyond obvious. A pilgrimage is a journey. It combines the spiritual journey with an actual physical one – this is just part of the deal. I do know that a lot of spiritual work can and should be done in stillness, silence, and solitude. But that’s not what this is. It’s work. Intentionally so. I’m stiff and I’m tired and I work hard. And the main reason I don’t have an Apple Watch is I don’t want anything telling me to stand up and move around. And now I’m going to go on a trip where God is telling me to stand up and move around?
- Pilgrimages transform people. You know I’m 47 years old now and I have to tell you I like myself. And it’s not easy to decide you like yourself. It’s especially not easy to decide you like yourself while also being totally honest and upfront about the things you get wrong, the dumb things you do, the big flaws you have. That is to say, it’s easy to like yourself by living in denial about your flaws, shortcomings, mistakes, and defects of character. To recognize how imperfect you are, to not make excuses for yourself, and to decide to like you and like your life anyway is an accomplishment.
And I will be honest that I chafe a little against the narrative that life is always about becoming a better person. It feels so much like we are taught that we are always at a deficit, that we are always lacking, that we could always be better, and if we’re honest, there’s some shame built in there. It’s a shame paradigm all dressed up as self-improvement. Oftentimes people are under the impression that as a priest I want everyone to become better people. I don’t. I don’t think that’s what God is all about actually. I don’t think this life is just some big self-improvement plan.
Pilgrimage is about transformation. You’re not supposed to be the same person at the end of one as you were at the beginning. I think if you are, it doesn’t count as a pilgrimage. I don’t make the rules. And I’m not sure I’m ready to be different than how I am. Not right now anyway.
But for better or worse I’m going on this pilgrimage.
And, because as a human I contain multitudes, I may as well admit that as much as I don’t want to go on a pilgrimage, I also very much want to go on this pilgrimage.
I even feel like I’m being drawn toward it in some mystical way that I don’t want to say out loud because it will make me sound as religious as I actually am. Despite that, and even as I’ve been making the list of why I don’t want to go, I have also been making a list of why I want to go on this pilgrimage. So here are the top three reasons I want to go on this pilgrimage.
- Pilgrimage is uncomfortable. It turns out I worship comfort and convenience. I make so much of my life about them. I don’t notice I’m doing it, and I don’t consciously say that I am going to prioritize them, but when I take a look at my life, I realize that any time I can make comfort and convenience possible, I do it.
At the same time, I seek to follow Jesus. And while Jesus may seem mysterious and unclear about some of his teachings, he is stunningly and consistently direct and plain in his admonition to his followers that walking the way of love will make your life less comfortable. Comfort and convenience have their place. I don’t believe we are called to be miserable all the time. But before I know it, I can start to make decisions centered not on where Jesus is calling me, but on what is the easiest thing for me to do. Even worse: Sometimes I will prioritize convenience and pretend it’s Jesus.
Going to the border is going to make me uncomfortable. Not just physically, but emotionally. Our treatment of immigrants and refugees in this country is something that makes me very angry. I often exploit the privilege of being able to retreat into my comfort zone and ignore the details and circumstances of their experiences. That just doesn’t feel like Jesus to me. Especially knowing that Jesus himself was an immigrant and refugee. I believe this trip will bring me the divine discomfort of the Holy Spirit.
- Pilgrimage requires movement. I sometimes confuse stagnation for stability. I’ve used this metaphor sometime in the past, but the way bones become strong is by breaking down and being built back up again. The healthiest bones are always moving in ways we cannot detect on this surface. If bones ceased to move they would become brittle, unstable, and dead.
The Holy Spirit is divine perpetual motion. The word Spirit itself is the same word in Scriptures as Wind and Breath. The Spirit is the movement of God, and the breath of God. And I want to be in communion with God.
What’s more, my immigrant siblings are themselves defined by their movement. And I want to understand them better. To recognize their faithfulness, I’ve got to move. I’ve got to get up and go.
Pilgrimage transforms people. Like I said before, I’m 47 now and I like who I am. But part of the reason I like who I am is because of all the transformation I have experienced. I’m glad I’m not who I was before. Not because I’m better, not because I needed improvement. But because every transformation in my life has brought me into a new and deeper understanding of who God is, who I am, how love works.
I don’t think life is all about self-improvement, it’s true – but I do believe that transformation is essential to life, and most certainly to a life lived with Jesus. Love doesn’t leave you alone. Love hasn’t left me alone, and I don’t want it to.
I don’t know what I will think or feel or what I will believe on the other side of the pilgrimage. I love that. Because every time I have trusted God and stepped into that kind of uncertainty, it has helped me realize that God’s plans for this world are wildly more imaginative and exciting than anything I could’ve come up with on my own.
