Revd Chris McDermott, Lead Chaplain for the University of Sussex

‘Pilgrimage’ is a word originally drawn from the lexicon of religion and faith. But it is also used in a much wider context. One friend described his visit to the Apollo Theatre – a historic jazz music hall in Harlem, New York – in such terms a few years ago. You may have made similar ‘pilgrimages’ to places of personal significance.

I have tended to think of a few journeys made over the years in these terms: visiting Cimetière du Père Lachaise to see the graves of Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde and the tombs of that gadfly philosopher/theologian Abelard and his paramour Heloise. I esteem my visit to the grave of one of my favourite writers, Nikos Kazantzakis, overlooking the city of Heraklion in Crete, in similar terms.

I recently went on my first religious pilgrimage to Rome. And it was the first time that I had gone on pilgrimage with a group of people. It was overall a positive experience but occasionally I felt somewhat ambivalent. The massive crowds and money-making, tourist-exploiting environments in what were supposed to be sacred sites of special significance were a bit disappointing – but, nonetheless, somehow an important part of the experience. In any case the oases I found amid that torrent of marketing and profiteering more than compensated for it. (As did, if I’m honest, the Disaronno Sour nightcaps enjoyed at local cafes in the evenings!)

The dynamic of being with a group also was important. We were all sharing a kind of pastoral oversight of one another, particularly some of the vulnerable individuals among our number.

Quite apart from making a journey to a ‘sacred place’, whether construed in religious or secular terms, perhaps what makes a pilgrimage is intention. With what intention do we visit Rome or that jazz hall in Harlem? Is it the mere physical connection with a place of sacred, historical or personal significance? To affirm and renew some significant value that is important for you, and somehow symbolised in the site you are visiting? It seems that there is always some intention behind whatever pilgrimage we may make.

Some writers have used the image of a journey or pilgrimage as a metaphor for life. Such metaphors may not be our cup of tea but, bracketing our metaphorical preferences for a moment, what might this mean? No doubt it means different things to different people.

One possibility is that thinking of life as a pilgrimage – whether in the religious sense or not – evokes a kind of mindful attentiveness in the journey. It was not a part of our ‘pilgrimage package’ but it seemed to be a natural by-product that people were caring for other members of the group. Waiting patiently for stragglers as we made our way through busy streets, supporting individuals when they fell ill, picking up tabs or sharing resources were all a part of that pilgrimage experience not officially included in the programme’s glossy brochure.

Whether your idea of a pilgrimage is a visit to the Basilica of St Peter in Rome or the grave of Karl Marx in Highgate Cemetery (I have made both pilgrimages!), how we cast the journey we are all inevitably making through life is important.

Call me prejudiced on this subject, but I find that thinking of this life journey in terms of pilgrimage – a journey with intention, marking what is of value and important for myself and others – somehow positively informs my day-by-day existence and the quality of my engagement with fellow travellers. Matters around justice, peace, the wellbeing of the planet I will one day leave behind, the value of family, friends, and colleagues are all somehow enhanced and gilded with a deeper significance when I think of life as a kind of pilgrimage.

So get up in the morning and make the pilgrimage to and from work and cap it with a Disaronno Sour - if that’s your cup of tea.