Spiritual pilgrimage can transform any average
vacation trek
I'm going to Brussels, Belgium, to visit my daughter, and that
means at some point our time together will become a spiritual
pilgrimage. That's just the way we work together. She knows what I like,
and I sort of know what she likes. So, the last time we traveled together, Michelle suggested
we journey to a little town named Saints, in France, where she
was living at the time. I honestly didn't want to go because we
had been on the road for three weeks visiting chateaus and churches
all over Normandy and the Loire Valley. I was a typical American
just wanting the easiest possible journey. But Michelle said there was an excellent example of Roman ruins
there in a very charming small city. So, we packed up for the
day and set off. And as we rounded a bend in the suburbs of Saints,
on our left appeared a very impressive Roman amphitheater, completely
dug out by volunteers and government workers and left for the
enjoyment of tourists such as us. For the next couple of hours we climbed the steps and sat in
the seats and imagined what it must have been like. We walked
the fighting field and peeked inside the tunnels where the animals
came racing out to battle the gladiators. It was the most vivid
glimpse I ever had into the scenery of ancient history. It was
also a spiritual moment that turned our trip into a small pilgrimage
because some of those people were dying for their faith. That's an extreme example of a spiritual pilgrimage - people
being chomped to bits by wild animals and heavily armed men. But you get the idea. A spiritual pilgrimage ought to connect
you with something profound, something that makes you think for
a good long time. Then I ran into a fellow who has spent most of his life traveling
the world and finding places to do some exploring into holy moments.
His name is Phil Cousineau, and he has been so many places and
met so many holy people you just can't keep up with the banter.
As he talks, it's the pope and the Dalai Lama and all kinds of
lesser saints thrown in the mix. And my first reaction was, of
course he has spiritual pilgrimages, he knows every pilgrim on
earth today. That's not quite true. He has, however, written a new book,
"The Art of Pilgrimage" (Conari Press, $20). Cousineau said most people can find their own pilgrimage and
they also can probably finance it. Pilgrimages don't have to be
expensive and they don't have to take a long time. But they do
require concentration. Cousineau said all a person has to do is
"put the sole of their shoe to the soul of the earth." That's nice and poetic, but it really means we have to get
our bodies out of the easy chair and hit the road. That's the
problem - most of us are hopelessly lazy. For instance, I lived
in this city for more than a decade before I had the nerve and
the energy to enter the giant Cathedral of St. Paul and sit a
moment to meditate. Let's say you're anxious, tired, worrying about many things.
Some of us would pick up the telephone and arrange a trip to a
warm place where we can roast in the sun for a week or so. That's
a plan to renew the body, but it may do nothing for the soul. Cousineau says there is nothing wrong with those vacations
if you also endeavor to discover something spiritual about your
vacation spot. It may take only two hours a day, or it may take
the entire day, but those special moments will transform a vacation. Cousineau also says it's OK to get lost. The trick, he says,
is to have lots of time to be found by the right people. Cousineau
says getting lost is often when we discover the spiritual places
that eventually mean so much to us. But you have to visit the obvious places, such as cemeteries
and old churches. I visited a venerable cemetery in Charleston,
S.C., attached to a French Huguenot Church in the center of the
city. Some of the tombs were so old that big pieces of stone had
been broken from the corners. This produced gaping holes where
visitors could actually look inside the sepulchers. That's an afternoon I'll never forget, because the spirit was
working on my imagination. If only I'd brought along a flashlight.
Clark D. Morphew
Posted For March 13, 1999