Locality for perpetuity
Pilgrimage.
Is that what I did in Israel-Palestine? It was an easy answer for the border and customs officials asking the know purpose of my visit, accustomed as they are to the ranks of religious in that part of the world. My evangelical-Mennonite soul felt uncomfortable with the word, though.
And in all honesty, my main aim in going was not to "walk where Jesus walked," but to see a country that has long fascinated me, and not just because it provides the setting for many of the events of the Bible. Were the tour entitled "See the Holy Land," "In the footsteps of Jesus," or "The land of the Patriarchs," it would hold little appeal for me. But "Ancient Stones, Living Stones"? That caught my attention. I wanted to interact with this convergence of ancient history and current affairs; with the juxtaposition of religious thrill-seekers and present political feuders.
And perhaps that's half of what true pilgrimage is -- not only seeking God in a place, but also finding in that place and experience a profound sense of the Almighty as both transcendent and mundane. That a locus of pilgrimage for 3 major religions should be a desert land wracked with violence (not an idyllic garden state) is perhaps appropriate to what faith actually looks like here on earth. Stepping away from a literal mountaintop of religious experience into a war zone -- that's a picture of the active Christian life, isn't it? If we're living disciples of Christ, not merely "good" people, complacently clutching a ticket to heaven, conflict and struggle should look awfully familiar.
So, I was a indeed tourist, but not only a tourist. Tom Wright's book The Way of The Lord gave me some words and motivations for the journey before I left, equipping me to aspire to that lofty title, pilgrim: appreciate the place, learn from locality, and meet God. Ironically, at the sites, on the spots where I met God very intentionally in a place, the communion was not only for that moment, but for the rest of my life.
Pilgrim? Yes, perhaps I am.
Is that what I did in Israel-Palestine? It was an easy answer for the border and customs officials asking the know purpose of my visit, accustomed as they are to the ranks of religious in that part of the world. My evangelical-Mennonite soul felt uncomfortable with the word, though.
And in all honesty, my main aim in going was not to "walk where Jesus walked," but to see a country that has long fascinated me, and not just because it provides the setting for many of the events of the Bible. Were the tour entitled "See the Holy Land," "In the footsteps of Jesus," or "The land of the Patriarchs," it would hold little appeal for me. But "Ancient Stones, Living Stones"? That caught my attention. I wanted to interact with this convergence of ancient history and current affairs; with the juxtaposition of religious thrill-seekers and present political feuders.
And perhaps that's half of what true pilgrimage is -- not only seeking God in a place, but also finding in that place and experience a profound sense of the Almighty as both transcendent and mundane. That a locus of pilgrimage for 3 major religions should be a desert land wracked with violence (not an idyllic garden state) is perhaps appropriate to what faith actually looks like here on earth. Stepping away from a literal mountaintop of religious experience into a war zone -- that's a picture of the active Christian life, isn't it? If we're living disciples of Christ, not merely "good" people, complacently clutching a ticket to heaven, conflict and struggle should look awfully familiar.
So, I was a indeed tourist, but not only a tourist. Tom Wright's book The Way of The Lord gave me some words and motivations for the journey before I left, equipping me to aspire to that lofty title, pilgrim: appreciate the place, learn from locality, and meet God. Ironically, at the sites, on the spots where I met God very intentionally in a place, the communion was not only for that moment, but for the rest of my life.
Pilgrim? Yes, perhaps I am.
Comments
"Stepping away from a literal mountaintop of religious experience into a war zone -- that's a picture of the active Christian life, isn't it? If we're living disciples of Christ, not merely "good" people, complacently clutching a ticket to heaven, conflict and struggle should look awfully familiar."