By Bishop James Conley
A pilgrimage is a kind of metaphor on life. We are all pilgrims in a foreign land since heaven is our true home. In this world, we are all strangers in a strange land. We are in this world, but not of this world. We walk with restless hearts, as St. Augustine reminds us, because we were made for much more that what this world can offer. And yet, the eternal world has a way of continually breaking into this world revealing, if we have the eyes to see, a world that is invisible and far more beautiful than the one we see.
In describing the idea of a pilgrimage, Hilaire Belloc, my favorite English Catholic historian, wrote that “a pilgrimage is, of course, an expedition to some venerated place to which a vivid memory of sacred things experienced, or a long and wonderful history of human experience in divine matters, or a personal attraction affecting the soul impels one” (“The Idea of a Pilgrimage” from Hills and The See, by Hilaire Belloc, 1953).
Belloc put it like this: the things of this world are but an “ordinary thing transfigured.” Therefore, the task of a pilgrimage is to somehow “venerate a humanity absorbed into the divine” and on our journey, “enter into and delight in the divine hidden in everything.” This was the idea I took with me as I set off on a 10-day pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in Spain at the beginning of this month.
This was the fourth time I had walked the dirt and cobblestone roads of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. The Camino (the way of St. James), as many of you know, is a pilgrimage to the tomb of St. James the Greater, one of the 12 disciples of our Lord. It is one of the most popular pilgrimages in the world. Up to 500,000 people make the walk each year—and it grows every year. Since the 9th century, when the tomb of St. James was rediscovered in western Spain, people have traveled the paths to Santiago from all over Europe and beyond. While the Camino Françoise, the French Way, is by far the most popular route, there are literally dozens of routes to Santiago that have been forged over the centuries.
My traveling companions and I, two bishops and a priest, decided this year to mix it up a bit and walk the Camino Inglés, the “English Way,” sometimes referred to as the Celtic Camino. It is one of the shortest routes to Santiago de Compostela, barely 140 miles of walking pathways in both England and Spain. The Camino Inglés is thought to have been the route taken by pilgrims from Northern Europe, particularly Britain and Ireland, who arrived in northern Spain by sea.
The English Way begins in Reading, England, 42 miles southwest of London, at the parish church of St. James, where there is a relic of St. James in the altar. From Reading the route proceeds through southern England, through the county of Hampshire, through the medieval city of Winchester, to the port city of Southampton. This path is marked by undulating hills and rivers, traversing some 50 miles, or four days of walking. While the pilgrims of old would then take a boat to northern Spain, we chose to fly.
The Spain portion of the English Way begins in Ferrol, Spain, in the state of Galicia. The Spanish portion of the route is approximately 72 miles, and traverses through beautiful green countryside and rugged northern forests. As one passes up and down the hills, at times it is possible to see the west coast of Spain and the Atlantic Ocean. The beautiful coastal landscape is far from flat and the arduous uphill climbs are rewarded by coastal vistas and friendly Galician villages and folklore.
A pilgrimage is not only about what you see along the way, though. It’s about what you feel. It’s about stepping back from the day-to-day busyness of life, to intentionally take time to ponder the goodness of God. At times, I shared my thoughts with my companions on this journey, while at other times, I silently reflected and prayed for the people of the Diocese of Lincoln, and in particular for those struggling on their own journey that has become arduous. While all of our journeys include difficult stretches, tiring and exhausting times when we are challenged, it is important to remember the destination is always just ahead, where our struggles will be replaced by joy. We can’t lose sight of that – whether our pilgrimage is through the hills of Spain or our eternal pilgrimage through this life to Heaven.
Every pilgrimage has an element of physical and mental difficulty. Mine came in the form of back spasms during the first two days in England. I had never experienced back spasms and I have a new respect and empathy for those who suffer chronic back pain. My spasms were such that I had to take an Uber during the first two days, and meet my companions at the next destination.
On the third day, I sent my pack ahead and was able to walk. On the fourth day, I was finally able to carry my pack and walk. My companions were very patient with me and the owners of the B&Bs were very kind in fixing me hot tea and hot water bottles!
On the Spanish portion of the route, I managed to leave my passport and all my money and identification at a café we stopped at one rainy mid-morning, and didn’t discover this until the next coffee break. The café where I discovered that I had misplaced my credentials was owned by two sisters, one of whom spoke perfect English, having been raised in London. Rocia drove me back to the previous coffee bar and the owner happily returned my passport and credentials, smiling and saying that this happens all the time! There is a real code of honesty and etiquette on the Camino, thanks be to God. There were smiles and laughter all around.
These two experiences were quite humbling for me in different ways. It reminded me of my radical dependence on others, and the realization that we are not self-sufficient and need each other along the way. Again, Belloc writes, “the pilgrim is humble and devout, and human and charitable, and ready to smile and admire, therefore he should comprehend the whole on his way, the people in it, and the hills and clouds, and the habits of various cities.”
We finally reached Santiago de Compostela and celebrated Holy Mass next to the tomb of St. James the Greater, with gratitude in our hearts and a sense of satisfaction at accomplishing our goal. Let me conclude with a final quote from Hilaire Belloc. The best way to make a pilgrimage is on foot, “where one is a man like any other man, with the sky above one, and the road beneath, and the world on every side, and time to see all.”
May God bless you on your own pilgrimage through this life. Notice God’s goodness and those around you along the way, feel His love for you, and never lose sight of your destination. I pray every day – and every step you take – leads you closer to Him.
