Tourists or Pilgrims?

Author unknown


By Their Cameras You Shall Know Them!

Blessed those who find their strength in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. (Psalm 84:5)

The most exasperating stranger I've had to walk with is myself. I go through life juggling my tourist pilgrim heart. There is a part of me that longs to be a pilgrim. I was born a seeker. I want to travel to all the holy places of the universe, including my own poor heart. I long to stand barefoot on holy ground. I long to stack up stones in memory of God's visitations and pour oil over them as Jacob did of old (Genesis 28:18-19).  

But alas my tourist mentality begins to take over and the lens of my eye is not enough. The memory of my heart is insufficient. My albums fill up with pictures just in case my heart forgets. My backpack turns into several suitcases as I begin to accumulate treasures from all these holy places. I begin to plan for new trips and regret all of the things I've missed.

A friend tells me a story of his visit to Niagara Falls. He was standing there in awe of that wonderful baptismal bath when a man hurriedly walked up with his wife. The man snapped a few pictures and then rather impatiently turned to his wife and said, "OK Mabel, we've seen it. Let's go." Do you think that man was a pilgrim or a tourist?

Since I am somewhat of a photographer I don't want to belabour this point, but in sifting out the tourists from the pilgrims I like to say, "By their cameras you shall know them." I always remember that as I shamefacedly pass by the pilgrims with my camera. The true pilgrim is the one who has no need to capture every piece of beauty. I'm always a bit envious as I see them sitting quietly receiving the beauty instead of trying to capture it. They pray with the lens of their eyes and their hearts. They are able to gaze upon, to reverence and adore. They serve as wondrous models for those of us who find it easier to clutch, to possess, to collect.

I believe there is a hidden pilgrim in every tourist. I constantly juggle these two seekers in my life. On some days the tourist wins out. But there are many times when the pilgrim in me feels at home. Maybe I have to settle for being a tourist pilgrim.

I stand on the edge of myself and wonder,
Where is home?
Oh, where is the place where beauty will last?
When will I be safe?
And where?
My tourist heart is wearing me out
I am so tired of seeking for treasures that tarnish.
How much longer, Lord?
Oh, which way is home?
My luggage is heavy
It is weighing me down.
I am hungry for the holy ground of home.

Then suddenly, overpowering me

with the truth, a voice within me
gentles me, and says:

There is a power in you, a truth in you
that has not yet been tapped.
You are blinded
with a blindness that is deep'
for you've not loved the pilgrim in you yet .

There is a road

that runs straight through your heart.
Walk on it.

To be a pilgrim means
to be on the move, slowly
to notice your luggage becoming lighter
to be seeking for treasures that do not rust
to be comfortable with your heart's questions
to be moving toward the holy ground of home
with empty hands and bare feet.

And yet, you cannot reach that home

until you've loved the pilgrim in you
One must be comfortable
with pilgrimhood
before one's feet can touch the homeland.

Do you want to go home?

There's a road that runs
straight through your heart.
Walk on it.