This is the first summer in quite a while that circumstances have prevented me from taking a walking pilgrimage, usually something like the Camino de Compostela (here) or the Via Francigena (which nearly killed me a few years ago between the heat and distance (here). My favorite, however, is still St. Cuthbert’s Way, which runs from Melrose in Scotland over the mountains on the border with England and down to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne (here).
I’m deeply convinced that a walking pilgrimage – in its combination of the spiritual and the physical on God’s green earth– is of far greater human and religious value than anything we’ve yet seen in the interminably bureaucratic synodal “walking together”(here).
But it must be a real pilgrimage, and there are disturbing signs that many people are now turning even some of the most hallowed pilgrim routes, followed by great saints and penitent sinners over centuries, into just one more self-involved path to “personal fulfillment.” There are even pilgrimage “influencers.” And those who enter classic pathways in search of “wellness.” (Mercy, Lord.)
To be clear: a pilgrimage doesn’t have to be a perfect ascetic or soulful exercise. Or a perfect anything. Even in the
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