A long time ago I belonged to a community that practiced pilgrimage spirituality.
The Nature Service was very simple, we would meet at the bottom of Morialta National Park in SA early in the morning and start walking.
The walking track would be chosen depending on numbers and ability of those attending.
People would walk together, offering a helping hand to those who might need it, I remember one child falling and hurting their knee, an older young person stopped and helped the kid up, another parent pulled out a silver space blanket and whispered something about it being a super cape and the child got up and continued walking.
One of the beautiful things about walking with this group was that noise was normal, and noone was concerned about it, kids would make noise and that’s life, friends and others would walk, be inspired by the scenery and by the conversations they would have.
At some point on the journey the group would stop, look around, one of them would say “this looks like a perfect spot” and they would all gather together.
One person would share an email, conversation, story they they’d participated in over the week.
A poem might be read, a psalm may be read, a prayer might be said.
At which point a backpack would be opened and out would come a tattered Children’s bible, a zip sealed bag with some bread and another with some pop-tops full of grape juice.
One of the children would read the story of the last supper out of the well worn book.
As the story was read, the bread was broken and the wine opened.
Together they would then share in the bread and the juice.
A short prayer might be said.
And then the walk would continue.
Quite honestly, I think it was one of the more beautiful examples of church I’ve participated in.