The Sunday Pilgrimage

A new series, beginning this winter

Hello readers. It’s been over a year since I had a free Friday: free, that is, of having to write up my weekly well wanderings. I have to say, I’m missing it already.

If you feel the same, you can console yourself for now with the podcast above. I was contacted a while back by Mikael Fälthammar, a Swedish Orthodox priest (confession: I didn’t know there were any…) who asked me if I’d like to talk to him about holy wells on his podcast. This made a change from my usual podcasting fare, which mostly involves big picture conversations about the Machine, religion, society and other such sweeping enormities. Talking about wells, it has to be said, is more fun. It turns out that Sweden has some holy wells. You learn something new every day, and especially on Sundays.

Speaking of Sundays. As I said last week, I am not old enough to just sit by the fire, or indeed sit over this feckin’ laptop, and my well quests, as well as my ongoing writing on the wild saints, have fired in me a desire to dig more deeply into the two themes I have been exploring on these journeys. One is the way that Christian devotion has for so long been woven into the landscape. The other is the power of the Christianity of the early centuries - a power that has mostly been lost, but which can still speak to us through the ruins of those places. Digging around in these old sites, for these reasons, is not just architectural or historical rummaging for me. It is a quest for my - our - spiritual heritage, and a pointer, maybe, to where it could go in the future.

Also, it’s my idea of a good time.

Rock of Cashel, Tipperary, Ireland

So, for all of these reasons, I’m going to begin a new series of weekend journeys. I’m calling it The Sunday Pilgrimage and it will take as its loose theme the notions I’ve just mentioned. Every Sunday I will visit, and tell the story of, a particular holy place. The bias will be heavily in favour of early Christian sites, and most of them will probably be in my home country, Ireland. For those of you who have become attached to my tales of the holy wells, I can promise you that you haven’t heard the last of them. But there will be many other things too.

Tau cross, Tory Island, Donegal, Ireland

I have a list already lined up of things I’d like to see, but from experience I know it will start bifurcating as soon as I get going. Who knows quite where it will all go, or where I will. One thing I would like to do is return to my homeland, England, and introduce you to some of the ancient and intriguing religious sites there. There is a lot to report on, and plenty of places I would like to revisit, or see for the first time.

Foliate head, St David’s Cathedral, Wales

If and when I get the chance, I will also see if I can ferret out places further afield. The world is full of culturally distinctive forms of Christian spirituality, all working in their own ways, among their own people, to delve into the Great Mystery.

Dance of Death, Tallinn, Estonia

So, I plan to bring you one of these reports every Sunday (or at least, most Sundays: I’ll be taking breaks here and there.) First though, I need to get out and about. I’ve already started. I plan to spend some of my time this winter digging into the ancient Christian sites of Connemara, in the West of Ireland, where the new series will probably begin.

Skellig Michael, Ireland

Beyond that, I hope to be able to bring you some reports from Romania, where I’ll be for a week or so this November.

Shrine to St Teodora, Sihla, Romania

After that … who knows? We will see what God orders, or brings, or forbids. I will take my camera and my notebook with me wherever I travel, and see what I can find. I will stitch together a very personal, very unscientific map of ancient sites - and perhaps a few modern ones - wherever my life takes me, and lay them out here. It will be, for me at least, an enjoyable journey. And maybe it will also be something bigger: a pointer, perhaps, to how we can excavate our spiritual roots - sometimes quite literally.

Ossuary, Vatopedi Monastery, Mount Athos

So, that’s the plan. Every week I will bring you the story of a place, its past, its practice and its people. It will be free to read for everyone, and you are all invited. Let’s see where the road takes us.

The pilgrimage begins this winter. Watch this space.

Painted monastery, Bucovina, Romania

Ruined oratory, St Colman’s hermitage, the Burren, Ireland