Becoming a Pilgrim by Carol Roehrig

Mother Mary Lessmann said, emphasizing the importance of seeing ourselves as pilgrims. Holy places dominated our agenda, with a focus on learning about Celtic Christianity. “The purpose of a pilgrimage is to make life more meaningful. Through sacred travel we can forge a path toward God.” These preparatory words, quoted from the reflection journal Mary provided, advocate for a mindset of openness to one another and God.

For a week in May, I was among 26 Saint Michael parishioners joining Mary on an exploration of the earth-honoring Celtic culture and journey of Christianity in the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. Steve Eggers described the trip as “a pilgrimage of the five C’s: Celtic Christianity, Crosses, Churches, Cathedrals, and Cocktails.” Phil Ritter offered up a capsule of F’s, “Faith, Fellowship, Friendships, Fermentation, and Fitness.”

On Saturday, we celebrated a private morning prayer service in the sanctuary of Christ Church Cathedral, an 11th century building in the heart of Dublin. We circled before the altar which was adorned in green damask with cream and gold silk embroidered peace lilies and Christogram IHS. We approached this intimate space after walking between ornately carved dark mahogany choir seats, each with a Medieval flag and insignia helmet above. It felt like a cocoon, as we sensed the Holy Spirit wrapped us in care. The majesty and history of the site provided an interesting backdrop for the ancient words of our readings and prayers. George Diamond said this place was where he most felt the presence of God.

At Trinity College, we saw the Book of Kells, a manuscript of the four Gospels created by Irish or Scottish monks. These ancient texts, believed to date from the year 800 C.E., incorporated elaborate ornamentation in letters and illustrations, along with Celtic knots and patterns. The historic Latin volumes live as part of a collection of rare books in the Old Library. Its Long Room, 213 feet in length, dates from 1712. Dark wood barrel ceilings, soaring 48 feet in height with floor to ceiling shelves filled with books, leather-bound and gold imprinted, reached by an ornate black iron spiral staircase, and rolling ladders. On the steps to this level a quote from Jorge Luis Borges stated, “I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library.”

Of course, our trip would not have been complete without a tour of the Guinness Storehouse. Arthur Guinness founded the Dublin brewery in 1759. Today it is an icon of the pub-and-pint culture known round the world. Named the St. James Gate Brewery, for its location in the center city, it became the wealth engine fueling the Guinness family and their contributions to restorations of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. From the seventh floor Gravity Bar, we enjoyed panoramic views of Dublin and the lands beyond, along with a complimentary pint of this Irish staple.

On Sunday morning, Mary led us in an outdoor Celtic Eucharist. She stood behind a folding table altar amid rock ruins, in front of a large opening, once a window. Huddled together, in raincoats and hats, with layered clothing to stave off the chill, we stood under God’s roof, the man-made one long gone. Around us pillowy clouds clung to the tops of the mountains where bright spiky yellow blooms on common Gorse bushes painted the landscape. Mary raised the host high. His presence framed by the natural vista imprinted a special holy memory. We prayed together:

“Lord, may we be wakeful at sunrise to begin a new day for you;
Cheerful at sunset for having done our work for you;
Thankful at moonrise and under sunshine for the beauty of your universe;
And may we add what little may be in us to add to your great world. Amen”

After, we took a two-hour walk into the Wicklow Woods, rich with moss-covered rocks, pine trees, and two lakes adjacent to Glendalough.

Eager to visit three monastic sites, we headed into the lush green knolls of Ireland, dotted with grazing sheep, plump in their wool dressing. Stacked rock walls created outlines, sometimes with hedgerow plants, which rolled up and over gentle hills. Everywhere, we saw green, bright green, with occasional pockets of bright pink blooming rhododendrons. Saint Kevin founded Glendalough in the sixth century. This monastic village included a round tower, about one hundred feet high, which served as a beacon for pilgrims and a defense against invaders.

A tower appeared also at Clonmacnoise, a monastic site started by St. Ciaran in 544 C.E. along the Shannon River and Eskar Riata, which was a major trade route and center to teach and spread the Christian faith. We walked through the cathedral ruins, purple flowers spilling from fragments of interior walls as chirping baby birds nested in the nooks once used for wood bracing. The abandoned walls stand today as a remembrance of how prayers created the seeds for God’s word to flourish in this magnificent landscape. In 1979 Pope Paul II visited this location and said that the ruins were still “charged with a great mission.” day Agreement ended the war. Political issues arose between Unionists and Nationalists, people who differed in their perspectives about whether Ireland remain a part of the United Kingdom or separate. Resentment about ongoing and perpetual Catholic discrimination entered the mix fueling religious hostilities on top of the political unrest.

Glendalough, Clonmacnoise, and our final monastic site, Monasterboise, share a strong presence of high Celtic crosses, stone carvings of a cross with a nimbus or ring at the intersection are evidence of the confluence of the Celtic and Christian traditions. Carvings often place Jesus’ arms outstretched and low, crucifix like, at the center, with mixtures of Christian scenes interspersed with indigenous reliefs. I stood in the Monasterboise cemetery, looked to the far field, and saw seven high crosses interspersed along the vista, each standing taller than the next, hovering over ancient graves. According to legend, St. Patrick drew a cross on top of a circular stone as a blessing and symbol of combining faiths. The cross represents Christianity, while the circle exemplifies Celtic eternity with no beginning and no end.

Crossing from Ireland to Northern Ireland, our cell phones pinged with notices of a new place. The currency changed from Euros to Pounds, and British flags flew amid the Irish Green, White, and Gold. We learned about “The Troubles,” the sectarian conflict that raged from 1960 until 1998 when the Good Friday Agreement ended the war. Political issues arose between Unionists and Nationalists, people who differed in their perspectives about whether Ireland remain a part of the United Kingdom or separate. Resentment about ongoing and perpetual Catholic discrimination entered the mix fueling religious hostilities on top of the political unrest.

Our education about everything St. Patrick began in Armagh. This community earned the title of ecclesiastical capital of Ireland, where the archbishops for both the Catholic Church and the Church of Ireland hold seats and host two St. Patrick cathedrals. We visited both and learned, “Episcopalians are thankful for the gift of St. Patrick; Catholics pray to St. Patrick.”

We enjoyed two evenings in Newcastle at the Irish Sea and adjacent to Northern Ireland’s tallest mountain Slieve Donard. A two-hour morning walk, led by women from the St. Patrick Center, took us along the beach and into the dunes to walk St. Patrick’s way to the ruins of Dundrum castle. An 89-mile path established in 2015, like the Camino de Santiago, follows St. Patrick’s walks through the countryside. Center Director Dr. Tim Campbell guided us through the museum which tells the story of the revered saint. St. Patrick, known for spreading Christianity and bringing the written word to Ireland in the 400’s, embraced the Celt chieftains and their honor for nature, community, and individual dignity, thus initiating what is known today as Celtic Christianity.

On our last day we visited Saul Cathedral, which is considered the cradle of Irish Christianity. Once a barn, tradition says St. Patrick lived and worshiped here in his early days. Called a cathedral, this charming building made of rocks is smaller than our Saint Michael Chapel. A stained-glass window featuring St. Patrick takes center stage above the altar where regular services are held. We hiked a steep hill to Down Cathedral in Downpatrick where the graves of St. Patrick, St. Brigid, and St. Columba rest beside the church. Our guide chuckled and said of the climb, “it takes a bit of puff.” This church built in 1183 C.E. and called the Cathedral Church of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, started as a Benedictine abbey and in 1846 C.E. became part of the Church of Ireland.

Our concluding event brought us back to Down Cathedral for evening prayer, where we read from the Irish Book of Common Prayer and were led by a local priest. The quiet simplicity of the service, following a day of immersion in St. Patrick’s impact, touched us in a deep way. Jeff Harelson claimed his awareness of God most profound at “our evening prayer service.” Kathy Hayes and LaRee Stein echoed Jeff’s sentiment.

We journeyed to a holy place and became pilgrims. Our daily connection to nature, learning the ways of ancient monastic communities, and praying together brought God closer each day. The trip created special connections with one another, and we traveled easily together. Phil Ritter commented, “I was surprised at the many opportunities we had to grow together in learning, faith, and fellowship.” Mary was right. Our pilgrimage was far more than a vacation; it was a transformational experience of connection to each other and to God. This line from Celtic Evening Prayer sums it up perfectly:

“I thank you for the many blessings of this day (trip), for the people I have met and the good friends who have helped me on the way, for the special moments of joy which have made my heart glad, and for the opportunity to show your love to others.”

I hope always to be a pilgrim, growing ever closer to God, and will treasure the gifts of Ireland, its people and rich history for a long, long time.

Celtics, known for their blessings say, “Bail o Dhia ort” (Pronounced bal oh Yee-ah urt), or “The blessing of God on you.”

**This article was written by Carol Roehrig and was featured in the 2024 Fall Archangel.