First, a Brief Announcement

My new book, Through New Eyes: A Photographic Journey through Israel and Palestine, will be released on Tuesday, May 13. You can read more about it here. I’ll send out more info on Thursday.

Pilgrimage Across Traditions and Time

“Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16a

Pilgrimage is as old as humanity itself. We've always traveled to distant lands in search of the holy grail. It may have begun as a quest for fire and then evolved into a search for the sacred fire. The theme of pilgrimage weaves its way through music, religion, and literature.

The foundational epics of Western literature—Homer's Iliad and Odyssey and Virgil's Aeneid—chronicle transformative journeys between iconic places: Troy, Athens, and Rome. This tradition of pilgrimage narratives continues with Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and Dante's Divine Comedy, revealing two enduring truths about such literary voyages. First, the destination ultimately matters less than the journey itself. The real story often lies in the landscapes traversed, the characters encountered, the discoveries made, and the wonders witnessed along the way. Second, these journeys invariably transform the traveler; movement between physical locations catalyzes an inner metamorphosis, shedding old identities, like a snake parts with its skin, in favor of new ones. Joseph Campbell called this the Hero’s Journey, and Maureen Murdock added the Heroine's Journey.

The pattern appears in contemporary music as well. From the band R.E.M.'s song "Pilgrimage," with its haunting melodies and harmonies, to Johnny Cash's remake of the old-time hymn by the same name, musicians have embraced the theme. The idea of the journey to a sacred place, whether along ancient trade routes or within the human soul, is likely an archetypal imprint on all of humanity.

In her poem Pilgrimage, the poet Natasha Tretheway captures the solemnity of a memorial journey to the Civil War town of Vicksburg, Mississippi. Here is an excerpt:

This whole city is a grave. Every spring—
Pilgrimage—the living come to mingle
with the dead, brush against their cold shoulders
in the long hallways, listen all night
to their silence and indifference, relive
Their dying on the green battlefield.

Pilgrimage, the act of journeying to places of spiritual significance, represents one of humanity's oldest and most enduring religious practices. Across diverse faith traditions, millions undertake these sacred journeys each year, seeking connection, transformation, and spiritual fulfillment.

In Islam, the Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca is one of the Five Pillars of faith—a mandatory journey for physically and financially able Muslims at least once in their lifetime. Approximately two million Muslims circle the Kaaba each year, reenacting rituals established by the Prophet Muhammad. Hinduism features numerous pilgrimage sites or tirthas, known as "crossings, " where devotees believe the divine and earthly realms meet. The Kumbh Mela, possibly the world's largest gathering of religious pilgrims, draws tens of millions to bathe in sacred rivers. For Christians, journeys to Jerusalem, Rome, and Santiago de Compostela have shaped spiritual practice for centuries. Buddhism emphasizes pilgrimage to locations connected to the Buddha's life, particularly Lumbini (his birthplace), Bodh Gaya (his enlightenment site), Sarnath (where he first taught), and Kushinagar (where he died). Judaism centers on Jerusalem, especially the Western Wall of the ancient Temple Mount.

While religious devotion continues to be a key motivator for numerous pilgrims, today's travelers cite various reasons for embarking on these journeys. Some aim for personal growth or transformation, utilizing pilgrimage as a rite of passage during significant life changes. Others engage culturally or historically, attracted by pilgrimage routes' deep traditions and artistic heritage. Many modern pilgrims search for authenticity amid the increasingly digital and mediated landscape. Physical travel to significant locations provides direct, unfiltered experiences that starkly contrast with the virtual interactions prevalent in contemporary life. Furthermore, the environmental and slow movements view pilgrimage as a sustainable and mindful travel method that highlights the experience of the journey rather than the destination.

Recently, I discovered a difference between planned pilgrimages and unplanned ones. The former typically begins with careful preparation and a clear destination in mind. Plane tickets are purchased, accommodations are arranged, and an itinerary is established. The unplanned kind occurs during ordinary moments, such as trips to the grocery store or family vacations. In these everyday pilgrimages, we don’t expect a transformational encounter with God; we simply need a dozen eggs. However, along the way, we are often surprised.

I’ve traveled to Scotland, Germany, Cuba, and Palestine in the past twelve months. Each trip had a pilgrimage quality, but the most profound learnings occurred during my unplanned pilgrimages. These were journeys to support family members, help a friend move, or sit and listen to someone in personal malaise.

On a recent, rather ordinary, unplanned pilgrimage, I discovered, with the help of a spiritual director, that I have recently been called into new roles, typically characterized by more traditionally feminine patterns. This became clear during a recent stint of grandparenting duties. The dissonance I experienced led me to explore new learning patterns. This is all part of my evolution as I transition from full-time employment to full-time life enhancement. (OK, that’s a fancy way of describing retirement, but it’s true)

I’ll refrain from revealing my inner struggles, but I want to convey that pilgrimage can take many forms. The ultimate goal might be discovering a hidden treasure, visiting a sacred site, or hiking in the misty mountains alongside Basho. While travel can help us find what we seek, we often uncover the treasures at home, like the one tucked away in the cupboard beneath the stove—you know, the stove that is deep within you.

As Carl Jung wrote to a colleague, “It’s the human soul, that’s the buried treasure.”[1]

What’s your next pilgrimage to find the treasure?

More to Come,

Jim

[1] Letter of Nov 13, 1960. Eugene Rolfe, Encounter with Jung (Boston: Sigo Press,