A visit to #pilgrimageuk
This week I find myself in the city of Sheffield, cheerfully rubbing shoulders with Danes, Americans, Australians and Germans, as well as plenty from this country too. We have come to the networked church here to find out about their revolutionary style of missional living which has brought about an astonishing growth in the church.
When I arrived (late) for the conference, I pressed an entry buzzer at the door to the Philadelphia center to be told that I had to turn around and cross the car park to the ‘Teaching hall’. As I did so, I became aware that every building around me was part of this church ‘campus’ – an office block, a chapel, a sports hall and a teaching hall to name but some. Inside I was welcomed by a cheerful reception team, served by an equally charming catering team, and later hosted on a tour of the city by two members of church ministry staff who manifestly love what they are doing. The stories they shared of lived transformed and crime rates reduced would have melted the hardest heart.
It is early in the morning, and already I have found myself thinking about church strategy and praying about my own church setting. Of this, I am sure, there is more to come. My question, though, is about the title of this gathering. In recent weeks I have allowed the imagery and language of pilgrimage to take up residence in my mind. Pilgrimage is a place of discovery and testing. It is a place where we deliberately traverse unfamiliar territory in order to become more familiar with the God who takes us there. It is a place where fellowship grows conversationally and the only certainty is our destination.
Why is it that we often find it hard to share our experiences of blessing without describing them as in some way normative, I wonder? Why is it that ‘I did’ so easily slips into ‘you should’? The leaders here in Sheffield have a remarkable story to tell, and they are putting themselves out in costly ways this week in order to tell it. They are giving of their time and opening their homes in a way which might make many conference speakers shudder. In the end, though, like the pilgrim walking beside you with his scrip at his waist and his scallop on his breast – they can only share the traveller’s tale of what has been…and leave you to find what will be.