By Henry Ralph Carse, Ph.D.

Part One

When I began my work as a pilgrim guide in the Holy Land in the 1980s, the ease of global travel was taken for granted. In those halcyon days, we might occasionally think a journey to Jerusalem a bit risky due to political turmoil. Beyond these slight twinges of caution, there seemed to be no limits to our pilgrimage freedoms. It did not cross our minds that a world-wide pandemic would one day close borders and ground thousands of flights, confining countless people to their home communities, too fearful to travel.

We are now entering the third year of the coronavirus pandemic, and while we know that the leisure (holiday) travel industry has been one of the hardest hit, we don’t yet have data to evaluate the impact on pilgrimage. Whatever the case, one thing is sure: pilgrims will not remain at home for long.

Research in the geography of religion indicates that in the late 20th century, upward of 200 million human beings made pilgrimage each year, with a surprising 150 million of these being Christians. Today’s numbers are markedly lower, but Christians will surely resume their journeys to sacred places, especially to the Holy Land, just as soon as they are able. The desire for pilgrimage is perennial.

Some who take the road to Jerusalem speak of a quest for a renewed awareness of the words and deeds of Jesus of Nazareth, in the land where he lived and taught. Some seek an understanding of scripture as related to the “sacred topography” of the Bible. Others cite an urge for spiritual renewal, not specifically linked to a “holy place,” but rather to a prayerful community experience which they hope to find in the company of other pilgrims. Still others – “pilgrim/tourists” - will insist that they are motivated only by curiosity or simply intrigued by the adventure of travel to see exotic “religious sights.”

Among the earliest documents of Christian pilgrimage, from the fourth century onward, we find both stern warnings against setting out on the way to Jerusalem, and enthusiastic endorsements of the same enterprise. Gregory of Nyssa, the great Cappadocian theologian, voiced the “teaching of restraint” in no uncertain terms in his “Letter on Pilgrimages”, when he wrote:

What advantage is to be gained by reaching those famous places themselves? One cannot suppose that our Lord lives there today in his body, but is absent to us foreigners!

Paulinus of Nola, on the other hand, could counsel a friend:

“Make pilgrimage abroad to increase the grace of charity in you, whilst you still lodge in the body and are a pilgrim for Christ.”

Pilgrimage in Christian tradition reflects a wide range of intentions and goals. This range seems to have been somewhat regulated during the Middle Ages, with the definition of pilgrim goals by an external religious (or even secular) authority. So, for example, penitential pilgrims and Crusaders all had fairly clear ideas of why they were travelling. Subsequently, however, ambiguity returned; it remains a primary characteristic of Christian pilgrimage today. Creative ambiguity and questioning are essential to the theological effect of pilgrimage as a religious experience of transformation and renewal.

Today’s pilgrims have perhaps fewer clear definitions of the spiritual meaning of their journey than ever before in Christian history. Pilgrim routes and shrines have remained remarkably constant for centuries, yet many pilgrims now make their way through a theological medium so abstract and unexamined as to be quite opaque. Pilgrims “move invisibly in huge numbers among the tourists of today, indistinguishable from them except in purpose.” It is precisely that half-conscious purpose, in its sacramental invisibility and ambiguity, which is the theological essence of Christian pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

In the coming months, in a series of monthly essays, we will explore the origins, pathways and spiritual purposes of pilgrimage, with special reference to the lived experiences of actual Christian pilgrims – in their own words.

To Be Continued.