Part 14: The pilgrim as a tourist

The arbitrariness of air travel itineraries sometimes produce the happy circumstance of allowing travellers to visit places they otherwise would not see. Our group of 45 Southern Cross pilgrims left Tel Aviv to fly to Munich via Cairo, necessitating one night in transit, spent in an entirely agreeable hotel in which I observed that the Egyptian engagement party tends to be at least as elaborate as the typical Western wedding.

We were lucky to see the pyramids just before closing time. Even on my fourth visit to Cairo, I was profoundly impressed by the pyramids. The words of Fr Nicholas King SJ from our pilgrimage in 2000 always come to mind: “The pyramids were ancient when Moses was still a boy.” It is a staggering thought that the great pyramid of of Cheops was at 146,5m the world’s tallest structure for 3,800 years (it was eclipsed in 1300 by Lincoln cathedral, which lost the record in 1549 when its superlative central spire collapsed). The pyramid of Cheops was the oldest of the ancient seven wonders of the world, and it has easily outlived them all.

No matter how devout a group of pilgrims may be, seeing the pyramids for the first time is a highlight. It is unlikely that many would trade a visit to the Giza plateau with the three pyramids and the Spinx for a tour of Old Cairo, the district that once was so profoundly Christian that it accommodated 20 churches within a territory of just 3km2. So they miss out on the fascinating 7th century Hanging church. Dedicated to Our Lady, it derives its name from its nave which is suspended over a passage in the old Babylon fortress, which was built in the 6th century BC. It is a truly impressive sight.

One less appealing feature of a visit to Cairo is the inevitability that the local tour guide will take the group in his charge to a tourist shop specialising in some type of trade or another. These never seem to be the kind of souvenir shops that offer a large range of items, catering from the tasteful to kitsch (and who doesn’t need a pyramid paperweight). In September, our group visited a perfume factory instead. For some of our group this was heaven (less so, perhaps, for their husbands whose eyes seemed to reflect dollar signs in the way of profligate cartoon characters). This particular pilgrim was bored by the exercise, but found amusement outside in observing the hyperactive bustle of a Cairo street, an ordered chaos consisting of dusty cars, camels, donkeys, mopeds and daredevil jaywalkers.

There are those who might argue that shopping should have no part in a pilgrimage. I don’t buy into that idea, as it were. A souvenir —  whether it is an ornate crucifix, a finger rosary or a t-shirt —is a concrete manifestation of a journey made. They call to mind that special journey to God, even if that t-shirt features a tacky phrase. The mug a pilgrim bought in Jericho is a reminder of the graces of a pilgrimage, and the t-shirt with a tacky slogan which was bought for the kids is symbolic of the graces the pilgrim seeks to impart to them.

For the group leader, however, the shopping impulse can be a nuisance in shepherding his flock. Our pilgrimage began in Nazareth. The basilica there is located on a narrow street. Reaching it requires pilgrims to walk past shops and traders selling the same merchandise one finds throughout the Holy Land. But the newly-landed pilgrim does not know that and so is tempted to buy souvenirs right there and then.  So the budget set aside for rosaries is instantly depleted on cheap imports from China rather than the locally-made olive wood rosaries one can buy in Bethlehem or Jerusalem.

The local tour guide will take his group to a souvenir shop with quality products and fair prices, preferably run by Christians. Of course, the guide will receive a kick-back for bringing his group to the shop, but it is an arrangement that suits everybody. The pilgrims have a choice of merchandise they can trust, because it is in the guide’s interest that he should receive no complaints, which in turn discourages the shop from selling inferior products.

There are also those who believe that leisurely diversions violate the spirit of a pilgrimage, especially if these might involve libations. That is taking a too narrow a view of pieties. Provided that the social consumption of alcoholic beverages is marked by due moderation (as it always should be), then surely it pleases God.

Jesus  enjoyed a good party. He did not leave the wedding party in Cana before the wine ran out, and his objection to Mary’s request to produce more wine resided in issues of timing, not the substance of her application. Our Lord and his travelling band of disciples must have kicked off their sandals from time to time and let their hair down. In fact, it is inconceivable that they didn’t, because they were human. Luke 7:34 suggests that Jesus drunk wine, unlike his tee-total cousin John. We must presume that he did so in moderation.

Indeed, pilgrims sharing a drink, alcoholic or not, at the end of a long, wearying day strengthens the sense of community that is so important in a pilgrimage.

Recently I came across an advertisement by an English tour operator. It describes pilgrimages as “anti-holiday”, pointing out that these journeys are strenuous and expensive. The ad warns: “What can be gained from pilgrimage cannot be guaranteed by the tour company.” But just as the reader becomes discouraged, the advert delivers the true promise that what can be gained “is simply something money can’t buy”.