I’m a cradle Anglican, but my early church memories are a jumble of the ecumenical church that gave us badges in Sunday School, and a classic brick-built estates parish with barbed wire fences, a bush perfect for den building, and a robed choir that let me carry a big candle (possibly a bold move, given my childhood love of fire and impulsive enthusiasm).
But my other strong memory of church growing up is being asked to leave. Multiple times. Usually because my mum had asked too many awkward questions, or suggested trying something new. Over time, I assumed rejection from church was just part of the experience.
Then came pilgrimage.
My first experience of community that truly held our diversity was with Student Cross – a 120-mile cross-carrying Holy Week pilgrimage to Walsingham. That ragtag bunch of misfits and antagonists, faithful doubters and pedantic saints showed me what it means to share the road with others, adapt and evolve with them, and be loved for who you are. They carried me – literally and emotionally – through joy, grief, doubt and stubborn hope. Many are still in my life, 25 years later.
Later, I walked the Camino de Santiago between my second and third years of theological college. It remains one of the hardest, and best, things I’ve ever done for myself and my faith. Somewhere along that dusty road I finally knew God wasn’t calling me despite my not-fitting-in-ness, but because of it.
Now, as I approach my twelfth year in ordained ministry, I understand why the Footprints poem speaks to so many. There are times when we don’t feel God with us, but we can still journey – from one place and understanding, to another – trusting in the tenacious love that carries us when we can’t carry ourselves as God walks with us, shouldering the burdens of our pains, baggage and struggle.
So, this month as we explore the theme of pilgrim people, let’s remember: it’s not always about the destination. It’s the travelling together that transforms us and there are many blessings along the way.
Wherever you are on the road – doubting, dancing, dragging your feet – know you’re not walking alone. Let's keep on keeping on, with hope for the journey. |