“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
Mother Teresa
Across hundreds of miles in Northern Spain, I caught a glimpse of The Beloved Community, of which Dr. Martin Luther King once spoke. It’s a place of quiet peace, sisterhood and brotherhood, and welcome for all who journey there. It’s place where people from all corners of the globe share stories, water and bread, encouragement and assistance. Within this sacred community, strangers become friends, divisions are erased, and resources are generously shared.
Following yellow arrows and signs with the familiar scallop shell, we walked along a single path known as The Way, the Camino de Santiago, the ancient Christian pilgrimage across Spain. We shed our familiar roles, professions, and comforts of home. We carried only what we could fit into a backpack. We were not defined by our nationalities, our gender, our religion, or our ideologies. We were simply pilgrims. Some of us walked to release burdens too heavy to carry. Others walked for adventure, or friendship, or to find a way to bridge the gap between this world and the Holy. Although the reasons for walking the Camino are personal to each one, all walk toward a common goal: the cathedral in Santiago, Spain.
One night on my journey, as I sat at table with fellow pilgrims from Japan, Denmark, Canada, and Australia, I paused to absorb the sacredness of the moment. Every pilgrim was weary, yet advice and encouragement were the given in abundance. Every pilgrim was hungry, yet each readily passed the platters until every plate was filled. We shared maps, first aid kits, and wine. No one was excluded. No one was left hungry. It was Holy. It felt like the Kingdom of God.
Day after day, our feet trod where countless pilgrims had walked before: over mountains, through creek beds, along busy streets, through sleepy villages, and across miles and miles of gorgeous forests and countryside, not unlike my own beloved Blue Ridge Mountains. Each night we found once more: shelter, rest, and community. Fellowship and welcome were ever present, even if the languages were varied. Everyone found a place of refuge. If one Inn was full, you were sent to the next one. No one was turned away. We were all part of The Beloved Community.
While my blistered feet have now healed from traversing over 250 miles, my heart and my head are just now beginning to grapple with the many lessons I learned along The Way. The simplicity of packing light, the beauty of being outside in creation, and the holiness of sharing life with dear friends and strangers cultivated a deep-seated peace I hoped to carry with me as I traveled back home to Virginia.
My first reality-check came as a gut-punch, as I picked up an international newspaper to read on the flight across the Atlantic. I felt myself white knuckling the inner peace I had gently cultivated over the past three weeks. The headlines were too shocking to absorb. Children and parents torn apart. Babies and toddlers held in metal cages. Families asking for asylum, only to be faced with their deepest agony, the loss of a child. In what world is this even possible? What kind of government could create and condone such cruelty? Surely not the country who lifts her lamp for the ones yearning to breathe free? My tears flowed as I tried to absorb what had happened.
Fellow pilgrims had warned me of the difficult transition from life on the Camino to life back in the “real world”. But I think we are mistaken about which world is REAL. Is a world of peace and love less real than a world of division and hate? Maybe what we think of as the “real world” is nothing but an invention, created out of greed and fear and amnesia. Maybe, we have simply forgotten the TRUTH of who we are. We’ve been sold a pack of lies.
Here’s the thing of which I am certain: There is no “us” and “them”. There is only “us”. There is no such thing as “other people’s children.” Those are our children. We are all in this together, living on this beautiful rock floating through space. Zoom out far enough on Google Earth and you’ll see what I mean. Borders become obsolete. Political divisions are erased. We are all here, together.
We have been fed lies about how we must fear those different from ourselves, how we should arm ourselves against one another, how we should build walls to keep our neighbors out. We have been fed lies about scarcity, that we must not share our wealth or resources, that undeserving others will try to take what we have. We are told there is not enough to go around. These are lies. Nothing but lies.
The Beloved Community Dr. King envisioned, is a place where “poverty, hunger, homelessness will not be tolerated because international standards of human decency will not allow it. Racism and all forms of discrimination, bigotry, and prejudice will be replaced by a spirit of sisterhood and brotherhood.” Jesus called it The Kingdom of God. I was blessed enough to get a small glimpse of it; and it’s possible, my friends.
Imagine a global community where we care for each other, where we share our tremendous resources, where we welcome the stranger and celebrate the beauty of our diversity. It looks like the Camino. It looks like international rescue teams working together to save a youth soccer team trapped in a cave in Thailand. It looks like the U S Army running a medical clinic in rural Belize. It looks like houses of worship opening their doors to all people. It looks like community gardens, food pantries, and homeless shelters. Look carefully and you may realize you’ve also caught glimpses of the “real world”.
Creating and sustaining the Beloved Community is possible. First, we first reject the false narrative of fear and division. We must strongly renounce all those who so loudly try to sell the lies to us. The duality is a falsehood. Stop believing it. We are One.
Fear is not The Way. Greed is not The Way. Hate is not The Way. Love is The Way. It’s the ONLY way. And it’s the only thing that can save us from this mess we have made.
Wholesight 