One of the great pleasures in my life is sitting in a country pub in my ancestral home county of Dorset in southern England. I love the names of some of these fine institutions! I’ve come across one entitled "The World’s End," which I thought would be a fine place to be at just such a time. One afternoon I had lunch in one near Thomas Hardy’s cottage. It was called "The Wise Man". Sitting in the garden with belly full and glass in hand, I understood why. One of the most intriguing signs over a pub displays a fair, young maiden holding, of all things, her head in the crook of her left arm. "The Silent Woman" says it all. I am told there is a pub in Nottingham that has the strangest of appellations, "The Ride To Jerusalem". I should think that every priest has a kind of holy obligation to visit that one and I shall. "Plume and Feathers", "Pudding and Pie", "Old Trout" and my personal favorite, "The Lettuce and Slug". Fine institutions, all.

I have spent a little time pondering what I would entitle my life if it were a pub. I’ve decided upon "Pilgrim’s Paradox".

Over the years, I have come to realize Christianity cannot be fully understood by anyone but the pilgrim. There is no book so complete, nor creed so carefully constructed, that can capture the essence of what it means to be a Christian. It can come only when we answer Jesus’ quite personal call to "Follow me."

It is only when we begin to put one foot in front of the other and follow where the master leads that we begin to understand what all this history and beauty really mean. Without that personal involvement we are no more than tourists day tripping through St. Paul’s Cathedral, snapping photos to show the folks back home. The power of Christ is reduced to a penny postcard bought on the way out while racing to visit another ecclesiastical museum.

Only the pilgrim can understand the pilgrimage.

Therein lies the paradox. How do we faithfully respond to Christ’s command to share the Good News with the world when the world couldn’t care less?

The paradox of Christianity is captured by the problem of participation. Without it, the faith is nothing more than quaint tradition and pleasant poetry. But convincing others doesn’t come in more talk, more argument, more evangelism programs. It comes, rather, as we live out lives of love. There is no greater advocate than this...to open our lives to others in gestures of grace, in acts of compassion and kindness.