On Pilgrimage

I was quite intrigued by the steps delineated in the idea of nonviolence as a pilgrimage. I think that the process that was outlined in the personal transformation that can occur in a pilgrimage is a very powerful one…and one of particular importance for the conversion from violence to nonviolence. This is just a combination reflection/analysis of that journey from my own experiences (though limited), readings, and teachings of prophets and guides of nonviolence.

In all of us, although all too often hidden deep inside of us, there is a longing for something more. Many mystics and theologians speak of a loneliness or an intense longing for God or peace. Dorothy Day referred to it as the “long loneliness” and Thomas Merton wrote of it as a desire for contemplation or solitude. While these images or experiences certainly carry denotations of being alone, that is certainly not the case with the references made by those experiencing a longing for a fulfillment of some sort. The longing that embarks on the pilgrimage is often undertaken in community. It is at this point that the transformative power of the nonviolent pilgrimage awakens. It seems to me that only through others, through a community, can we embrace a calling to nonviolence. For it is in the calling to nonviolence that we are also called to resist the dominance of violence, which can be very lonely and difficult, if not impossible, to do alone.

Thus far, the spiritual pilgrimage to a nonviolent faith is embodied by a longing for something more, perhaps an alternative to the way we understand our lives, our society, or the world at large. It is an experience that often emerges out of a deep spiritual moment or practice (such as Merton’s practice of solitude) or other moving experience. From this longing emerges a call. This call is significant because it requires a commitment to embark on the journey, to answer the invitation to be changed in someway yet to be determined.

The next stage is preparation. The journey to nonviolence requires a number of things before the self can begin to be transformed. To me, the most important element of this personal transformation is that it includes the support of a community. When we resist the story of violence, the myth that violence is what protects us from the unknown, we need something to help us to understand what replaces that myth. A community of fellow pilgrims can fill that void. Some pilgrims may have taken this path before and are helping to serve as guides while others are also sharing in this journey for the first time. Nonetheless, a community of nonviolent believers helps to shape and support the individual pilgrim.

Once the community has gathered to leave, a larger community gathers as well to see off their friends and family. Sometimes this larger community does not understand the pilgrimage this smaller community is about to begin. Perhaps, though, through love and compassion for a pilgrim, they understand the personal call that must be answered in this way. I am thinking of many friends and family of those who offer prayer and support for the sacrifices of others in the name of nonviolence, whether it be parents and siblings of jailed war-resisters or participatory communities on the other side of the fence offering prayers for arrestees. But it could be much simpler than that. For some, the ritual of leaving is signified by a journeying out of the world for an intense spiritual transformation to nonviolence, such as the story shared with us of Dr. King spending the night in the room Gandhi slept in.

The journey, although necessarily taken together, is experienced alone as well. I have found that shared reflection of each others’ personal transformation can offer much insight and understanding into our answering our own callings. The most difficult part of the journey though is to allow it unfold at the level you need it to happen at. Often, that is different for each pilgrim and we need to give the space to allow that individual to develop their own experience. This is not to say it is to be easy. On pilgrimage, we can challenge each other to take varying degrees of risk to allow ourselves to be transformed, but ultimately, we need to recognize the Holy Spirit working among us as that source of transformation and not force what our experience on another.

Many would describe the arrival of the pilgrimage as the culminating experience in this journey to nonviolence. Some of these arrivals, for me, have been a deep conviction that nonviolence is my calling or a confrontation of a new form of violence previously unseen in my life. For others it could be the release from prison after a direct action or the dismantling of a certain system of violence. However, while there is a sense of peace and gratitude, the arrival is not the end of the journey, there is still the return.

The return to the world can be as exhilarating and life-affirming as it can be spiritually dangerous and lonely. While the current pilgrimage has ended, one must face the new reality of life alone. A discipline of prayer and commitment to integration are essential for a healthy transition to a new life. Often, because the powers of violence are so pervasive, nonviolent resistance (particularly that of transformative act of nonviolence) is met with a menacing violence that feels threatened. It is at this point that our experiences and transformations take us back to the beginning for a new pilgrimage, as a new longing has emerged. For once we have a taste of the peace and transformative power of the nonviolent pilgrimage that is embodied in solitude and community, in contemplation and action, in social change and personal change, there is a renewed desire to partake in that journey of faith again.