The Christmas Pilgrimage
By Michelle Ting
I recently walked the Camino de Santiago, covering the last 102.6km of the Camino Primitivo route. As we entered advent and Pastor Jeremy opened with questions of home, with no small amount of curiosity, I checked the distance the heavily pregnant Mary and Joseph would have had to walk to Bethlehem. It was 130km. Just as she was pregnant with a child, I too was “pregnant” with a 9.5kg backpack. I had much time to ponder on questions of temporality, journey and home.
What am I doing (here)? To be a pilgrim is to carry weight. I am sure nine months gave Mary plenty of time, yet not enough time, to ponder the physical, emotional and spiritual weight of her “yes” to God. It is one thing to be agreeable in front of angels, it is quite another to walk this out practically, as a young, unwed female teenager in a conservative society.
Just as she was pregnant with a child, I too was “pregnant” with a 9.5kg backpack.
As I trod through mud and rain along the Camino path, struggling to keep warm and dry, while avoiding herds of cows, I wondered the same. Walking the route alone in a foreign country felt alienating, despite the magnificent natural beauty surrounding me.
By definition, a pilgrim is a person on the move. To move towards something is to move away from another. What became increasingly clear was that my pilgrimage was an embodiment of the journey we are all on, in some way. In the journey of Mary and Joseph, we see them moving from a place of normalcy to a life of dodging difficulties, as they had to go on the run soon after their infant son was born. Jesus himself was a pilgrim, understanding that he did not belong on earth and that his sojourn here was temporary and painful (Matthew 8:20). To be a pilgrim on a pilgrimage is to constantly move into unknown, foreign places. The Israelites were on the move constantly in the Old Testament, with their journeys rife with challenges and threats, vulnerable to the elements. What are we moving towards? What do we need to move away from, in order to move forward? The advent story invites us to contemplate our journey.
Where is home? On the Camino, pilgrims walk anywhere from 20-30km daily, over flat, mountainous or hilly terrain, through rain or shine, carrying all their belongings on them. Pilgrims on this route usually stop for one day, sleep, then get back on the road. You barely have time to become accustomed to your bunk bed and shared dorms and showers, before needing to pack up and walk again the next day. There is no luxury to consider any space “yours” even for the briefest time. The constant changing environment and places of rest forces the mind (and body) to not get too comfortable.
Today we take “home” for granted. It’s the space that we pay rent or a monthly mortgage for, and go home to. Jesus was born in a strange place and considered earth a temporary abode. Early church believers had to live as exiles as they spread the gospel, essentially needing to surrender the idea of “home.”
We are called to remember the heavenly home that is our final destination.
However, Scripture does speak of “home”, a home that is beyond a postcode. Although we make our temporary physical abode here on earth, we are called to remember the heavenly home that is our final destination (Hebrews 13:14, Philippians 3:20). As we read news of wars in the comfort of our earthly homes, let us also consider the sufferings of refugees displaced by violent conflict. The story of Jesus, who comes as a “stranger” to a suffering earth to heal it through his sacrifice, calls us to bring the gospel message of hope and redemption to others, through word and action. Just as Christ left a comfortable, heavenly home to undertake an excruciating pilgrimage here on earth for the sake of the world, let us also journey towards the suffering of others, to bring Christ’s message of peace and hope to all.
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