By Bishop Sam Rodman
To paraphrase a line from the hymn “How Lovely is Thy Dwelling Place,” happy are they whose hearts are set on the pilgrim’s way.
The hymn is an adaptation of Psalm 84, our text for the Feast of the Presentation, celebrated each year on February 2. Psalm 84 reminds us that as followers of Jesus, as his disciples, we are always on a journey. It is a journey of becoming: becoming the people God created each of us to be, becoming people who learn how to love our neighbor, becoming beloved community. It is a pilgrimage of love.
On New Year’s Day this year, I began a journey to the Holy Land at the invitation of Archbishop Hosam Naoum, the Anglican archbishop of Jerusalem. It was called a pilgrimage of solidarity, a time of compassion and peace, but it, too, was a pilgrimage of love.
Ten bishops, including Bishop Anne Hodges-Copple, resigned bishop suffragan of the Diocese of North Carolina and current chair of the American Friends of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem, made our way to Israel. The Palestinian Christians and Muslims refer to the Middle East as the land of the Holy One in an acknowledgment that three world religions—Judaism, Christianity and Islam—share a connection to the land and each other through our common ancestor, Abraham, who we might describe as the original pilgrim. Abram, as he was then called, followed God’s direction to leave the land he called home and go to the land God would show him.
When we made our plans for the journey, there were no direct flights from the United States to Israel. Some of us flew to European cities, while others flew to Amman in Jordan and then crossed the border into Israel. This is significant in that the land of the Holy One is not confined to Israel, and the Anglican Diocese of Jerusalem actually includes Jordan, Syria and even parts of Iran.
We spent most of our time on the pilgrimage in Jerusalem itself. But we also spent a day in Bethlehem, only five miles away, and one day in Nazareth, Jesus’ hometown. The three locations are notable, as they encompass Jesus’ first journey at the center of the Feast of the Presentation. Born in Bethlehem, Jesus was taken to Jerusalem for presentation at the temple, before his family returned home to Nazareth.
Our journey followed a similar sequence. It was a symbol of our solidarity with the Palestinian Christians who hosted us, as well as a reminder that we were also in solidarity with, and connected to, Jesus’ pilgrimage here on earth from its very beginning.
Of course, the journey of the Holy Family was on foot. The pace of pilgrimage in Jesus’ time was altogether different than the journey that brought us to the land of the Holy One. In reflecting on that as we traveled, I thought about the wisdom in the slow, steady pace of a pilgrimage on foot, something I got to experience in 2023, when I walked part of Spain’s Camino de Santiago on my sabbatical (Disciple, Fall 2023).
It brought to mind the directive we often heard from our teachers growing up: “Walk, don’t run.” It was said for our safety, but it was also an affirmation that, sometimes, slower is better.
I have been reminded again and again of that simple wisdom since returning home. Wading through countless emails and phone messages awaiting reply, processing the exhausting and unprecedented stream of executive orders from the new administration, and discerning where and how to respond—life was trying to demand a pace antithetical to that of our Holy Land journey.
But when things turn fast and furious, slowing down, taking a breath and moving at a pilgrim’s pace can help reorient and focus us. Psychologists tell us that focus is the best response to frenzy. Pilgrims know how to focus on each step of their journey and keep a pace that makes space to encounter the Holy One who is beside us, among us and walking with us, even as we navigate chaos.
Happy are they whose hearts and feet are set on the pilgrim’s way.
ANCIENT TRADITIONS IN BELOVED COMMUNITY
Some of my favorite moments on the pilgrimage took place in the Old City, which is, of course, a city within the city of Jerusalem. They were my favorites, in part, because it was where I could see most clearly the confluence of the people who live there. Jews, Arabs, Christians and Palestinians all interact, live and work side by side. The Old City is one of the places in the land of the Holy One where people from these three great Abrahamic traditions connect and coexist on a daily basis in a peaceful, purposeful and practical incarnation of what Jesus preached and taught.
Neighbor to neighbor, side by side, they live and breathe what looks like a version or variation of what we call beloved community. It is not perfect nor ideal, but it is working. It is happening. They have figured out how to do this.
What do they have to teach us? What would it look like for us to learn from their example? What would it mean for the governments that represent these people to turn their attention to the community of the Old City? What might they see?
The devastating conflict and violence present since October 2023 has had an impact on all the people who call the land of the Holy One their home. The stories and testimonies of people from all three faith traditions were heartbreaking and poignant. They were also an inspiration and illustration of people’s resilience, perseverance, faithfulness and determination.
One such story was shared by a youth from the Diocese of Jerusalem. One of the caves around Bethlehem that is traditionally decorated at Christmastime was instead, this year, filled with rubble. It was symbolic of the suffering the Palestinian people continue to endure, but for this young man, the image of that cave was also a reminder that Jesus is with us in the ruin and rubble of our conflicts and crisis.
[Images: Scenes from pilgrimage include the olive tree planted by Pope John Paul II on Mount Nebo and the Dome of the Rock. Photos by Bishop Sam Rodman]
Moments also provided inspiration. On our way back to the United States, we passed again through Jordan and had a bit of time to visit Mount Nebo, the place where Moses was able to look over into the Promised Land. There is a church in nearby Madaba operated by the Greek Orthodox Church, and on the floor of the church is a mosaic that is actually a map of Old Jerusalem. Not only is it a magnificent work of ancient art, it is also a reminder that near this holy spot, where Moses saw the land of promise, is a place that still embodies the hope and promise of what beloved community can look like. Too often we look up for answers, leadership and guidance. Sometimes, what we are looking for can be found at our feet.
Outside the church on Mount Nebo is a small olive tree, a universal symbol of peace. It was planted by Pope John Paul II when he made his own pilgrimage to the area in 2000. Mount Nebo was the first holy site he visited.
ACCEPTING THE GIFT
Here in our land, where the battles of partisan politics seem as visceral and complicated, and, at times, as heated as the ancient ethnic and religious conflicts in the Middle East, the gift of a pilgrimage helps us to walk toward peace, to walk in peace and to move in the direction of the other. It gives us the chance to see the promise of God’s beloved community in the face of someone who disagrees with us.
It gives us the faith to risk believing that the one who came to walk among us, alongside us, is still present with us and for us, just as he was in those long ago days, when he was carried by his parents into the Holy Temple to be presented and dedicated for a purpose and promise we are still trying to realize centuries later—the gift of Becoming Beloved Community.
When we recognize on our own pilgrimage that Jesus is with us, we, too, see that the promise can be fulfilled. It is why we go on pilgrimage. It is our purpose. It is a journey of promise, a sojourn of hope, a pilgrimage of love. Amen.
Bishop Sam Rodman is the XII bishop of the Diocese of North Carolina.
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