Pilgrimage to a Monastery

It is only an hour train ride from London but miles from my home in Seattle, Washington. The train station has only two tracks—one coming and the other going. I lift my large travel backpack onto my back and walk a mile down the road to a Victorian-era Benedictine monastery. This year will mark my third time at the monastery. It has become a pilgrimage for me. I know in this place I will meet God.

Of course, I know God is everywhere, but here in this monastery tucked in the Surrey countryside, this is a special place and time to meet with him.

This year as I step off the train, it is pouring rain. I sidestep puddles and nearly slip in mud, but I am not deterred; I am ridiculously happy walking toward the monastery. The monks know I am coming. I look at my watch and know they are in midday prayers right now. I know they are praying for me and my safe arrival. If I walk fast enough, I will walk into the church right as prayers end.

I look forward to this trip all year. For several days, I will do nothing but pray with the monks, take long walks, and sit in silence. I know God will speak in that silence. He always does. He will reveal himself in the Liturgy of the Hours I pray with the monks five times a day. He will show himself in long afternoon walks through pastures and woods. And God will make his presence known as I sit in the guest house in silence.

One of the Benedictines’ missions is hospitality. Many of their monasteries have room for guests. St. Augustine’s has a guest house that sleeps four. My host monk will make sure I know I am welcome. The first time I came, he gave me a tour to make certain I knew where everything was in the house and on the grounds and informed me of the times for prayer. The bells in the church ring five minutes before each prayer to remind the monks (and guests) to finish up their work and come to prayers.

It is a marvelous thing to live by the bells. I look forward to praying each Liturgy of the Hours with the monks. It is a great comfort to know that these men have committed their lives to prayer. As I pray several times a day, the prayers become part of my inner cadence. I find myself whispering the psalms of the liturgy as I walk in the countryside or make tea in the kitchen. Jesus, the Word, comes to life, as the Word moves and breathes within me.

One year I came with a question, whose answer I wanted to hear from God. But one year I came just to sit in his presence and enjoy his goodness. In each pilgrimage, I reaffirm and renew my relationship with God and go deeper into his love.

I am glad I am modeling this search for relationship and transformation through pilgrimage for my teen sons. My oldest has asked to come with me next year. He wants to meet the Lord in this special place too. I know he will find God there, waiting, listening, and ready to reveal himself.