Two years ago, I walked across Spain for a full month, with thousands of other pilgrims, finishing in Santiago de Compostela at the cathedral where the remains of St. James the Apostle are believed to be buried. I was one of almost 300,000 pilgrims that year, following a foot path that was over 1000 years old. For a month, I saw breathtaking scenery, hundreds of churches, ate and slept with other pilgrims from all over the world, and heard dozens of stories of "journey" on the way. I also experienced heat, cold, tendonitis, blisters and bad bunk beds. In our various stages of physical fitness, spiritual readiness, and emotional courage, we were all moving toward the same destination, each with our own story to share.
On the last day’s walk into Santiago, pilgrims stop at Monte de Gozo, the “mountain of joy,” to glimpse for the first time the cathedral in the distance. This last morning was foggy, so there was only disappointment at this vista, followed by two more hours of trudging through suburbs. When the group I was walking with entered the old city and we turned left into the plaza, the sun finally broke through the clouds as we took our official last steps.
And yet I was underwhelmed. Admittedly I had set my expectations too high, but I felt no rush of joy as I expected. Part of it was sadness that the journey was over, at least the walking part. But part of it was the touristy nature of this area and the swarms of people. There were street performers and vendors hocking wares. There were regular tourists gawking at everything through sunglasses. It just didn’t have the peacefulness that so much of the route exuded.
I realized in that moment that the journey had been much more important to me than the destination. We can often place more emphasis on a destination and fail to appreciate the beauty of the journey to get there: the planning, the anticipation, the rewarding detours, the strangers encountered, the random acts of kindness. For me as well as many pilgrims, Santiago was only the excuse to experience the journey.
On this first day of Advent, our journey toward the Feast of the Nativity begins. In our house, the tree is up but far from fully decorated. Ornaments are queued up on the coffee table, waiting to attach to a select branch. Presents will slowly be added under the tree in the coming weeks. There will be many opportunities for unrealistic expectations and disappointment, but the journey also invites us into moments of anticipation, joy, surprise and community. We must be willing to look, listen, taste and touch That which encounters us as we travel...at least if we wish for the journey to be as relevant as That who we seek at the end. If our heart guides the way, we will will recognize that we encounter the Christ child all along the way.
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