We are doing a lot of walking on this trip. Sometimes over 20,000 steps in a day!
And we are doing some serious walking together as a church this year as we prepare for the Synod on Synodality in October. Pope Francis has highlighted "walking together on the way" as the central metaphor for the church. Indeed, he said, "if we are not synodal, we are not church."
I love walking with a friend. Conversations are different. It's okay to drop the conversation for a while and then pick up again. There is time to ponder what the other person says and then come back after and time without anyone feeling awkward. That is how conversations go when one is walking.
I also enjoy walking alone (today while eating lavender and white peach gelato). I can allow my mind to wander and sometimes come up with surprising insights. Sometimes it comes up with nothing at all and just takes a rest and enjoys the sights.
As I spend time as a doctoral student thinking about the problems of clericalism and abuse of power, I have teachers, friends and other students who walk with me helping me to sort out my thoughts. I also have a few supernatural companions. Two of these are St. Francis and St. Catherine. I spent some time with these friends this past weekend.
On Saturday, we were in Siena, where we visited the Church of St. Domenic (and Catherine). It was early when we arrived so we had the place almost to ourselves. I saw the famous depiction of St. Catherine (below) and felt her presence with me. She was such a strong woman, who managed to persuade the pope to return from Avignon to Rome. Nothing was going to stop her from ensuring that the church she loved was following the will of God as she saw it. She was a force to be reckoned with though a small woman who spelled poorly. (These last two things endear her to me especially since I am small and quite frequently spell "priest" incorrectly.) She was also a woman of prayer and humility. Both are necessary if we are to avoid self-righteousness and combativity as we work for a healthier church. Both are necessary if we are to follow Pope Francis' advice: "Let us not soundproof our hearts; let us not remain barricaded in our certainties. Let us listen to one another.”
On Sunday, we attended Mass at the Basilica of St. Francis in Assisi. I was surprised to find myself tearful. Again, I felt very much in the presence of my old friend. Francis and I have been walking together since I was a teenager (maybe even earlier). We share the same sense of meeting Christ in the most poor and in relating to the created world as brother and sister. I was always inspired by Francis' naive way of following Jesus. It's so simple. Love. Rejoice. Pray. But despite his simplicity, Francis called a church (lost in power and wealth) to conversion. He didn't do it by standing on a pulpit decrying the abuses - though that would certainly have been appropriate. Rather, he and his companions walked together to Rome and in their bare feet and tattered garments proceeded up the centre of St. John Lateran Basilica to seek permission from Pope Innocent III to found a religious order.
This opportunity to place my feet on some of the very cobblestones on which tread the feet of St. Francis and St. Catherine, made me feel that I am a part of a church of pilgrims. This pilgrimage will last many lifetimes and will be filled with wonderful surprises and some pretty steep hills (like Siena and Assisi!). Our call is not to accomplish everything, only to join the other pilgrims and follow the voice of the Holy Spirit to the best of our ability.
by Christine
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