Christmas 2013 Paris, France
Tourists or Pilgrims?
Approaching Notre Dame on Christmas Day, we encountered a long line of tourists leading into the famous cathedral. Apparently we were not the only ones who had decided to try attending the service! But we were too late and had to join the tourists to even get a glimpse. Creeping along I suddenly heard a beautiful, clear voice singing above the hubbub. Was it a recording? A street musician? No, they were broadcasting the service outside for all to see and hear. I left the line and stood in front of the archways as the crystal voice floated over the crowd. But no one stopped. People continued to take pictures, move, push, and pose . . . . click, click, click. But for me, as is so often the case, I was in carried away in a moment of serendipity by music. And for a moment, I got to be a pilgrim.
Once inside the church the waiting became jostling. Like cattle we moved and pushed through the crowd. I held onto the girls’ hands so as not to lose them. Inside the main area sat the churchgoers. The pilgrims. Around the outside passages pushed and shoved the tourists. That would be us. The pilgrims were annoyed with the tourists for disrupting their service. The tourists were annoyed with the pilgrims for taking the best seats. But some of us stopped. To take pictures, yes, but also to listen. To pause. To go from being tourists to pilgrims if only for a short time. The music rose over and above our heads into the highest reaches of the cathedral. The heartfelt words of the priest asked us to listen, to pause, to pray, to be a pilgrim in front of the manger. God was truly there, but only if we stopped. I kept trying to hear the words of the priest and to look up to the magnificent stained-glass windows. But we had to keep moving. There was no place to sit. Crowds were pushing. There was a large metal tower to visit. Move on.
A few days later it was Sunday in London at Westminster Abbey. But they did things differently here. No tourists on Sunday. Only worshippers were allowed - only pilgrims. Do you want to stay? You’ll have to stay for the whole 90 minutes. No leaving, no pictures, no being a tourist. If you can’t stay the whole time sit outside the chapel and do not disturb the worshippers. The priest looked annoyed with us. How must it be to be a cathedral bouncer? To have to weed out the tourists from the pilgrims every Sunday? To have a completely different congregation every week? We had to make a decision. Did we want to be tourists or pilgrims?
We decided to be pilgrims. And what a wonderful decision. As strains of the organ and the choir’s praise filled every corner of the soaring church, God was surely there. We soaked in his presence through the music, meditation, and communion. There was nothing to distract us. The tourists were gone and only the pilgrims remained. All was peaceful and beautiful. There was no need to fight the crowd to be a pilgrim.
To stop completely and be a pilgrim with other pilgrims is so refreshing. But inevitably we must go back to being pilgrims in the midst of tourists. And this is so much harder. Tourists expect everything to go well and as planned. Disruptions throw them off and they are easily annoyed and frustrated. There is no greater purpose for them other than to check things off their list. I find it easy to be a tourist when life doesn’t follow my checklist and my goals are shallow. But pilgrims see the disruptions as part of the journey, part of the goal, part of being a pilgrim. Pilgrims know they are part of a bigger picture of which they are only a small piece. Pilgrims are always connected to that goal and intentionally stop to pause, reflect, and listen. And occasionally they have glimpses of the goal itself – serendipities – moments when they see a piece of glory. Of the goals beyond themselves.
Like the priest at Westminster Abbey, I will have to ask myself each day – which do I choose to be?
A tourist or a pilgrim?