About Us

Letter from the Vicar

Pilgrimage and Prayer: We may often think of pilgrimage as an epic, exhausting trek to an ancient, faraway shrine. Maybe a challenging, solo prayerful journey of reflection. Recent TV programmes including those by Simon Reeve, much like Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales of 1400, have offered a broader perspective. I recently listened to the experiences of a Franciscan monk who had walked some of the long pilgrimage routes. He described many motivators recounted by fellow pilgrims including; intentionally finding time to reflect, to listen to God, exploration and adventure, meeting new friends, pondering life worries, seeking fun and excitement, to escape! For most, maybe many of these elements ring true.

Yet, pilgrimage might simply be described as prayer in motion and a spiritual practice that can be embedded in everyday life. Whether we are walking across breathtaking scenery or just meandering round our own local allotment or churchyard, stepping out of our daily routines invites us to encounter ourselves and something outside ourselves and beyond our control in a fresh and transformative way.

Ending a recent pilgrimage at Canterbury Cathedral, Torrin, the recently appointed Pilgrimage Officer, surprised us with a hugely warm welcome, guided us to tea and cake and then invited us to join his weekly mini, primarily silent, pilgrimage around the outside of the cathedral. At certain points he shared a prayer of thanks or reflection prompted by the ancient architecture, artefacts and gardens that we passed along route.

Many of us find prayer difficult in the busyness of everyday life. We sit in the quiet, our distracted minds attracted by social media, ‘to do’ lists, and nagging worries. An attraction for me of pilgrimage is the simple steady repetition of our feet treading the ground beneath, anchoring us in the now, prompting us to notice the many blessings and wonders of our natural world, making space. The act of walking simplifies focus. The rhythm of steps becomes a quiet, steady heartbeat of prayer, resourcing our journey in life.

‘Prayer is the turning of our whole mind, our whole being towards God’

(Father Gilbert Shaw in Celtic Prayer Book One : The Journey begins William Coliins 1989 p423)

When we undertake an intentional, prayerful walk —whether a multi-day hike or an afternoon stroll across our local fields and trails —we are willingly embracing the unpredictability of the road. We can’t control the steep hills, the sudden rain, or aching limbs. In moments of discomfort even vulnerability, or perhaps great beauty, and in the company of others, such as on our recent sunrise walk up Longstone Edge, or the hospitality and creativity of our flower festival at church we are maybe reminded of our own smallness, our reliance on others and a greater love connecting us. The unpredictability of the journey and process strip away our self-reliance. We are forced to surrender our need for control and, instead, learn to listen, make room for those we travel with and ultimately for God.

So you do not need hiking boots, nor adventurous movement to be prayerful. Throughout Christian history, the Desert Fathers and Mothers taught that the deepest inner spiritual journeys can be achieved by staying completely still. Thomas Keating, in his book Intimacy with God (1994) describes an inner movement towards a sense of union with love. We can make a pilgrimage out of our morning commute, our daily dog walk, baking a cake, watering our garden or just by slowing down our everyday activities and treating each moment as a sacred step. By intentionally paying attention to the world around us—the birds, the changing seasons, the beauty of creation—we are invited to offer prayers of awe and gratitude.

Over the coming month, perhaps take a moment to pause, step out, and pray. Whether you are wandering through the beautiful, rolling countryside around us or sitting quietly in the pub, whether a person of faith or none, let every step, every moment be an intentional offering. Open yourself to the possibility of a deeper way, resting in a loving God alongside you.

Alison Waltho Great Longstone.