Pilgrimage is having a moment. Everyone seems to be doing one. From our new Archbishop’s pre-enthronement six-day walk from St Paul’s to Canterbury Cathedral, to the 14,000 people registered in the first 24 hours that applications opened for the annual Pentecost Paris–Chartres Catholic pilgrimage on Palm Sunday, the ancient tradition of journeying to a place of special spiritual significance is going through a renaissance. And the BBC is running with it.
This spring we have the eighth series of its Pilgrimage show, this time sending semi-celebrities off to trace the footprint of legendary Celtic Christian saints from the seventh century, learning about Oswald, Bede and Cuthbert. From Whitby’s cliff-top Abbey to Durham Cathedral and then onto their final destination, the Holy Island of Lindisfarne. There is one Anglican-evangelical Christian, one observant Muslim and an agnostic Jew, along with an “à la carte Catholic” as well as an atheist, who moves to become agnostic over the course of the pilgrimage – although there are no dramatic conversions to be seen. This show is about the slow burn – and slowing down, taking time to walk, to talk, to think deeply, away from the hurry and busyness of modern life. Sweeping northern landscapes draw in the pilgrims, and us as viewers.
Christian Ashley Banjo observes that the pilgrimage teaches “something about simplicity of nature” which helps him to connect to his faith and feel “more at home, internally”. Others reference the eternal nature of the landscape, and how they believe that Mother Nature contributes to their experiential faith, and suggest that the divine feminine has been stripped out of life. They discuss the difference between religion and spirituality, and the issue of believing in God in a world full of suffering. There has been some critique of their pilgrimage being part-bus rather than purely walking, but then even Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales had a monk riding a palfrey (a type of horse).
Their time on pilgrimage provides space, away from social media, and gives them shared experiences on which they can build their conversations. Everyone experiences this differently of course. For one pilgrim, awful weather provides challenges for her cochlear implant that makes listening well-nigh impossible. For another, his neurodiversity means he finds it “strange trying to fit into a group” and experiences the walking as a very solo experience, observing that his friends are “neurodiverse weirdos, and for us it’s quite difficult to enter a typical, normal world”. If individuals’ experience of a walk can be so different, so too can their experience of our churches and communities – we are all wonderfully made, but all different. Nonetheless, together the pilgrims ascend summits and take selfies. The mundane is here as well as the spiritual as they argue about sleeping arrangements, joke and share together. And together they reach the shores of Lindisfarne, where they are met by the vicar of the island’s parish church, who offers them a blessing, but neglects to mention Jesus, choosing language about the “God of hope”. Rome wasn’t built in a day, I suppose.
And Rome is where one former participant of the show ends up, albeit temporarily. Also showing this spring on BBC iPlayer is Harry Clark Goes to Rome. Harry Clark is perhaps England’s most famous liar, the 25-year-old winner of the 2024 series of The Traitors, and a cradle Catholic who took part in last year’s Pilgrimage series walking through the Alps. He clearly got a taste for it, and for talking about his faith on camera. This one-hour documentary shows Harry being totally himself, complete with his tattoos, crucifix earring and intense passion for Chelsea football club, travelling to Rome with his mum in the hope of finding a way to meet the Pope. (The odds of this presumably rocket when one is accompanied by a BBC film crew!)
Having warmed up last year, he is even more open about his religion and some of the struggles it has both created and helped him with. His depression after leaving the army led him to have suicidal thoughts – his faith brought him through it, but has now left him wrestling with how his own thoughts about suicide fit with Catholic teaching. If he makes it to the Pope, will he be able to get some sort of definitive answer?
Life as a journey is a massively over-used metaphor, but for a reason. These specific journeys on-screen show us again the power of honest conversations about meaningful subjects in a complicated world. Taking time out, experiencing again a simpler life, stripped back to the essentials, provides a rhythm that is restorative.
Walking alongside others gradually builds connection, and while there is no monumental on-screen conversation or conversion, we see small steps towards faith – alongside the steady steps to their destination. Whether those on screen are longing for community and acceptance, forgiveness from sins via confession, or taking joy in God’s creation as it draws them all back to reflections on spirituality, COVID taught many of us that a walk and talk is free, a God-given gift. Stunning surroundings, whether northern landscape or Roman cityscape, may help – but we can all take the opportunity to build connection with God, ourselves and each other by making a journey with spiritual intentions.
