Traveling on guided tours just doesn’t appeal to me. Traveling on my own means my priorities guide all of my choices; I can go to the places that interest me and linger once I get there. A scheduled group itinerary can’t allow for that.
Of course, none of my preferences (or anyone else’s) apply to the journey of faith. Christian discipleship is entirely different from traveling. And that is what this month’s Synod on Synodality is about. At the risk of beating a metaphor to death, there are a few things we spiritual travelers would all do well to keep in mind as the synod unfolds.
The destination matters. Journey and process may be among the buzzwords of our generation, but we should never forget the destination we hope to reach: heaven. The fullness of salvation in Jesus Christ, the resurrection of the body and everlasting life with God is the purpose embedded in our journey. It’s why we take up our crosses to follow Jesus. Heaven is what calls every heart to the road.
There’s a difference between pilgrims and tourists. As Catholics, we possess an illustrious tradition of truth, goodness and beauty. A wealth of scholarship and contemplation, noble and selfless deeds, awe-inspiring cathedrals and works of art are our inheritance. All that can make it difficult, though, to remember that we are not tourists in this world, seeking a memorable vacation that will enrich our lives.
We are a pilgrim people seeking the grace to change our lives and to work with the changes we hadn’t planned on, and so we must remember:
We do not travel solo. Whether we are single, married, clergy, or religious, not even hermits who live in solitude live their faith alone. Everyone, without exception, should be welcome to join the pilgrimage. Consequently, we should expect all the joy and aggravation of traveling with other people. Some will surely console us. Others will challenge, perhaps even offend us. We are not free to exclude or judge any of them.
We are traveling together. There are numerous routes on the Camino de Santiago, and people choose one or another for a variety of reasons. But everyone on all of them knows where they are headed. When we talk about synodality in the church, we ought to do so understanding that we can’t walk together unless we are seeking the same destination. A shared destination brings people together and keeps them together. Anyone who wants to take a side excursion is free to do so, without demanding that everyone else come along. And those who want to consider other destinations are free to leave the rest of us behind. But we should never rejoice when that happens.
There are baggage restrictions. While everyone is welcome, everything is not. Some of what we want to bring with us are weighty, often unhealthy, limiting or sinful. We also have opinions, preferences and behaviors — some are self-defeating; others create obstacles for those traveling with us. Jesus said, “If any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves” (Mt 16:24). Packing light isn’t easy, but where we’re going there’s no room for ego any more than there is for sin.
We follow a person. If we want to be with God, we must allow him to show us the way. There is no leadership vacuum in the church for us to fill: Christ is the head and the shepherd. He chose the first apostles and has given us our bishops as their successors. Most visible among them is our Holy Father, Pope Francis, the successor of Peter and the Servant of the Servants of God.
Our pilgrimage to heaven begins at baptism, but the way is long and arduous. The first sinner I encounter every day is the one I see in the bathroom mirror. Becoming more like God is a lifelong process for us and for everyone around us. As St. Teresa of Avila said, “Patient endurance attains all it strives for.” And patience is what we will need for the synodal pilgrimage ahead. May the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary hold all the church’s best intentions close, as well as all our traveling concerns.
Jaymie Stuart Wolfe is a sinner, Catholic convert, freelance writer and editor, musician, speaker, pet-aholic, wife, and mom of eight grown children, loving life in New Orleans.