I recently returned from a study leave that took the form of two very different, parallel journeys. The first was a solo rail trip travelling over 2,000 miles east across Europe and Türkiye to Georgia and then back via Athens and Rome. The second was a walking pilgrimage, covering a modest 44 miles through the Scottish Borders.
On the surface, these trips seem incomparable. One was vast and crossed complex geopolitical lines; the other was intimate and quiet. Yet, as I unpacked these experiences, I realised that both journeys converged on the same profound spiritual truth: we are not meant to travel alone.
When I first wrote to share these reflections on 11 December, I was in the process of finishing the accompanying three-part video series, Reverse Pilgrimage. The full playlist is available to watch and can be found below:
Reverse Pilgrimage Series
Sharing these reflections now, at the start of a new year, feels timely — a moment to look again at what these journeys revealed about migration, borders, and the Christian call to compassion.
Borders and Barriers
One of the most striking contrasts of my study leave was the nature of borders. On my walking pilgrimage towards the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, the border between England and Scotland was silent and seemingly inconsequential. But travelling east, the borders became stark, fortified, and complex.
This became personal when I lost my luggage and was forced into a position of vulnerability. Suddenly, I had to rely on God — and the kindness of strangers — for everything. It was a tiny, fleeting glimpse into what it might be like to rely constantly on others for basic needs. For many refugees, that vulnerability is not a moment but a daily reality as they navigate conflict, climate disasters, or persecution.
These encounters deepened my conviction that the Christian response to barriers must be one of bridgebuilding.
Turning Journeys into Pilgrimages
What separates a mere journey from a pilgrimage? I believe it is intention — the internal desire for the journey to have a spiritual impact — and the presence of the Holy Spirit in our interactions with others
Every day, people in our parishes are undertaking difficult journeys:
- journeys out of debt,
- journeys of forgiveness or grief,
- journeys through the asylum system,
- and long journeys toward belonging and citizenship.
When we walk alongside them, we turn their struggle into a shared pilgrimage. As I found on my travels, the journey is always easier when done with someone else.
A Call to Compassion
When I first began producing the video series, I could not have foreseen how quickly the national conversation about refugees would accelerate. I have come to believe that migrants and refugees have a great deal to teach us about our own spiritual journeys. Asylum, at its core, is an act of profound compassion and is integral to the commandment to love our neighbours
During the season from Advent to Epiphany, we are reminded of the journeys that the Holy Family undertook — first because of the Roman census and then fleeing persecution from Herod. The nativity scene itself is one rich with diversity: a gathering of different peoples, backgrounds, and stories
The diversity within a community adds to our understanding of God. When migrants are welcomed with warmth and genuine hospitality, the gifts they bring far outweigh the costs.
Join the Journey
I invite you to join me on this journey by watching the Reverse Pilgrimage video series, where we explore themes of silence, diversity, vulnerability, and the work of the Spirit in unexpected places
May we all be encouraged to open our doors and our hearts, becoming fellow pilgrims with those seeking sanctuary.