On Being a Pilgrim

Perhaps it is no accident that the company who organized our tour to the Holy Lands was called "Pilgrim Tours."  One dictionary generically calls us people who “travel on a long journey.”  Ten hours overnight on a packed plane was a very long journey.  Circling Israel by bus was another long journey.  Walking who knows how many miles required a comfortable set of shoes which I wore out!  

 

I found another definition of a pilgrim that called pilgrims people “who journey to a sacred place for religious reasons.”  Sacred place is a good way to summarize the land we saw.  God called people here.  He warned people here.  He blessed people here.  He named people here. He gave us Jesus here.   I will never forget the words of our tour guide as we stood at the top of Mt. Carmel and overlooked the Jezreel Valley.  He swept his hand across the panoramic view and said, “Here, I serve you the Bible on a platter.”  The land became the pages we have read over and over.  He pointed to Mt. Tabor where Deborah and Barak strategized a military offensive and where Jesus met with transfigured Elijah and Moses.  Then, he moved his point to Mt. Gilboa where King Saul was killed, then down the mountain to the spring where Gideon chose his warriors.  The land does not allow an easy chronological retelling for this is layered land.  The stories are built one upon another, here, on this land.

 

Another part of our pilgrim journey was company.  A pioneer may travel solo but pilgrims love company.  We were 21 strong.  We came from Oregon, Idaho, Washington, Arizona, and Alaska. The source of our bond was Northwest University.  Mark and I were seamlessly grafted into this alumni group.  Support of the sponsoring university was more important than graduation year. So was love for the journey.  From our introductions and reunions at SeaTac to our bleary eyed touch down in Seattle at the end, we traveled as community. 

 

By now I have unpacked clothes and souvenirs, finished the laundry, and put the suitcases away.  But I'm not finished unpacking my heart.  That's what I will do here.  I invite you to join me on my journey.  My footsteps left no mark on Israel but Israel left its mark on me.  Follow my footsteps through a storied, layered, complicated, unfolding land.  Perhaps we will become pilgrims together.