Fall A.D. 2001
+Pax

After twenty years of daily journeys to the Quonset hut chapel I am now wearing a slightly different path to the new chapel. The interior of the building is being used even while the exterior remains under construction. The phrase “going to church” is often used to refer to the whole experience of attending church, not just the actual journey to the church building. Yet this journey in and of itself can be full of meaning if we understand it to be pilgrimage and relate to it the rich Biblical images surrounding this concept.

A pilgrimage is a journey to a holy place made with motives of prayer and devotion. There is no reason why we should not consider our local churches as holy places, as shrines and sanctuaries. A certain mentality may shrink from calling any earthly place holy, but Biblical language is not so otherworldly in its understanding of how God relates to man in and through the created world. “Put off your shoes…for the place on which you are standing is holy ground,” Moses is told when he approaches the burning bush. Earlier the Patriarch Jacob had exclaimed after his vision at Bethel, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God and this is the gate of heaven.” One sometimes finds these words or a portion of them inscribed over the portal of churches, a reminder of the attitude we should have as we enter to encounter the living God in His Word and Sacraments.

A pilgrimage begins as a conversion, a turning about. This is a turning toward something, in this case the holy place or church; necessarily it is also a turning away from something, a separation from the place one leaves behind. The great pilgrimage in the Old Testament is the Exodus. This was a journey toward the Promised Land, but the name calls attention to what was left behind. It was an exodus out of Egypt, away from slavery and, as the people would longingly later recall, away from a measure of security and luxury they had experienced there.

The Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120-134) are probably a collection of psalms sung by pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. The first of these psalms expresses a yearning for exodus or departure that first motivates the pilgrim: “Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesheck, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar! Too long have I had my dwelling among those who hate peace.” These strange geographic names, which were already largely symbolic when the psalm was written, can stand for those places in the geography of our lives where we are not living our Christian identity, where we are not at home or at peace. Like the prodigal son, from that land we now recognize as foreign we set out for the Father house. Thus a pilgrimage, even to our local church, begins with a willingness to separate ourselves from the routine of the world, to break free, to rouse ourselves from lethargy and to seek in the place of worship the truth that will set us free.

This journey also has a positive significance; it is a walking with the Lord. The Gospel writers relate many of the biographical details of our Lord’s within the larger context of a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. He is not just meandering around Palestine when He summons disciples to follow Him; He is journeying with purpose toward the Holy City to keep the Passover. He calls out to the multitudes who are perhaps also on the pilgrimage, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

Here at St. Augustine’s going to church involves a brief and relatively peaceful walk to the chapel. Others face a much longer trip, which may include negotiating noisy congested traffic, more like a “commute” than a meditative pilgrimage. Yet the journey to Jerusalem for our Lord and other pilgrims was also less than ideal. By first century standards the roads to Jerusalem could be noisy and crowded. Still it was in the midst of all this that many people heard the Lord, many were healed, and many converted to follow him. When we are on a pilgrimage, everything can be understood to be part of the way. Every step is as important as the first and the last. Everyone and everything we encounter along the way is a part of the pilgrim experience.

In the Book of Acts Christianity is called “the Way.” This is metaphorical and it points in its deepest sense to the person of Christ who is Himself the Way, the Truth and the Life. St. Paul too observes that, “we walk by faith, not by sight.” Yet where we are physically directing our steps is not unrelated to the deeper spiritual journey of the Christian faith. There is a legend that as St. Peter was fleeing Rome during the persecution he heard the question “quo vadis” (“where are you going”). His physical change of direction to return to Rome was also an inner re-conversion to the Lord, to the Way. Our journeys to church on Sundays or more frequently can also be times of self-examination and renewed commitment. The words of the letter to the Hebrews can come to mind, “let us lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.”

“Going to church” is both a spiritual and a physical reality. The journey begins in the heart and in essential ways is a spiritual attitude or orientation. But in this life it involves also a bodily journey of some sort, whether this be across town and through heavy traffic or a very short walk, as here at St. Augustine’s. The Holy Spirit who “calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies” the Church does not do this in virtual reality but in real reality. The gathering takes place at a specific place, which is almost always a distinctively constructed building exclusively set apart for this use. It is a holy place because there God reveals Himself through His chosen means and there we gather with fellow pilgrims. When we set our face to go there the trip becomes holy journey, a pilgrimage. “I was glad when they said to me, ‘Let us go the house of the Lord!’”

Sincerely,

Fr. Richard G. Herbel