I am just remembering now that one of my favourite books as a child was a Sunday School Prize, Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan – I am not sure why. I loved the idea of the pilgrim’s journey his adventures and his eventual arrival. I don’t think I was ever concerned with the spiritual significance of his journey in a very deep way but there was definitely something about it which attracted me.
I can think of two pilgrimages I remember from the days of my youth. The first was the pilgrimage(s) on Jersey to St Helier’s Hermitage. I can remember walking across the causeway wearing cassock and surplice.
I can remember too while I was living in London in 1973/4 going on a pilgrimage from Guildford to Chichester to the shrine of St Richard. I can’t remeber much about it apart from walking across the Downs and sleeping on the floor of a church hall.
Who would have thought that so many years later I would be walking across the sand again , but this time to Holy Island for a different saint. The featured image records that walk in thick fog. I was struck by the thought that whilst I knew my final destination I could see only a very short way ahead one or two poles and a short way behind. That was such a clear illustration of my journey.
It has struck me recently that I am resuming a journey, a pilgrimage which I began in the days of my youth which had been on pause for so many years.