In his book The Art of Pilgrimage, Phil Cousineau writes that in every pilgrimage, there is a secret room, a place along the path that gives us insight into the deep mystery of our journey. In describing this hidden room, Cousineau draws on a story that poet Donald Hall tells of friends who purchased an old farmhouse. Cousineau writes,“It was a ‘warren of small rooms,’ and once they settled in and began to furnish their new home they realized that the lay of the house made little sense. Peeling off some wallpaper, they found a door that they pried open to reveal a tiny room, sealed off and hidden, goodness knows why: They found no corpses nor stolen goods.” For Hall, the mystery of poetry to evoke powerful feelings finds its analogy here, in its ability to be sealed away from explanation, this is the place where ‘the unsayable gathers.’
And so it is on the pilgrim’s path. Everywhere you go, there is a secret room. You must find your own, in a small chapel, a tiny cafe, a quiet park, the home of a new friend, the pew where the morning light strikes the rose window just so. As a pilgrim you must find it or you will never understand the hidden reasons why you really left home.
Where is your secret room? Let me share my quiet room on Easter morning. I am perched high on a hill in Ellison Park. It is 6am. My fingers are freezing holding the camera on a monopod, waiting for first light. The predawn sky is showing signs of light with colors of red and purple. The clouds are quite strange and unusual.
The sunlight that peaks over the hill is harsh and bright. No cute orange ball here to show off to your friends. Rather, something more mysterious and profound is happening due to the cloud formation. The sun behind the clouds is creating a “river of light” that seems to flow from a waterfall cascading through the clouds. You see the stunning moment is not the sun coming over the horizon, but rather, how the light streams through the clouds in patterns and shapes that form a river of light.
Perhaps this is the true meaning of Easter, This is the place where ‘the unsayable gathers.’ Each second, the scene changes as the sun slowly rises piercing it sunlight through the clouds, each moment a living link with our maker, each an embodiment of his vision and love, each a threshold beckoning me deeper into my own creative path and reminding me why I set out on it in the first place.
And you? Did the pilgrimage through Lent offer you a secret room? Somewhere along the way, did you find a place that offered, not an explanation of your path, but a window onto it, a space within it that enabled you to see it anew, and the one who called you there? Where was it, and what did you find there? How does it illuminate the way before you?
God prays for us as we reflect: “There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells.” (Psalm 46:4).
Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that they remember that Easter is not just a day but rather a season. May the gift and challenge of the resurrection go with you, and may the path ahead be graced with secret rooms and sunrises that flow like a river of light.
