At that time, when Jesus had entered Capharnaum, there came to Him a centurion, who entreated Him, saying, Lord, my servant is lying sick in the house, paralyzed, and is grievously afflicted. Jesus said to him, I will come and cure him. But in answer the centurion said, Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof; but only say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, and have soldiers subject to me; and I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it. And when Jesus heard this, He marveled, and said to those who were following Him, Amen I say to you, I have not found such great faith in Israel. And I tell you that many will come from the east and from the west, and will feast with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, but the children of the kingdom will be put forth into the darkness outside; there will be the weeping, and the gnashing of teeth. Then Jesus said to the centurion, Go your way; as you have believed, so be it done to you. And the servant was healed in that hour.

Matt 8:5-13

As I believed, as a child, God was a close friend. This wasn’t something that I learned. It was something that I knew.

I was four when my parents started talking to me about Jesus. Recalling those moments, I have to either believe that reincarnation is real, and I’d come back from someone who already had the knowledge and the faith, or–easier for me to believe–that knowledge was hard wired into me from birth.

It was more like remembering that learning something new.

I went into my small oratory at home before I left for work today, asked for a blessing as I undertook this journey through the Lenten season, and marked myself on the forehead with a cross using the ashes of the palms from last year. I looked at my forehead in the mirror, felt joy as I recognized I was identifying myself as a pilgrim.

Where is it that Lent takes us?

We are embarking into the desert–a place that is isolated from the things of this world. Temptations present themselves to us, offer to lead us off our road. Anger, jealousy, self doubt, self pity, suspicion; these are the distractions that lead us astray. While we know that the destination lies at the Easter vigil, the days ahead are new days, new moments, new experiences seen through fresh eyes. Where does this pilgrimage take us?

The centurion knew Jesus was near, knew that it was the only hope for his servant–someone who scholars now recognize not as a servant, but a lover. He didn’t know what would happen, if he’d be admitted to see this rabbi who had healed so many. Would he be turned away? Would the rabbi chastise him, know that this servant was an intimate?

Would he be seen by anyone who knew him? Was this a risk that was worth taking?

The centurion went knowing not what the outcome of his journey would be, but knew that the love he felt for this man, his companion, was enough to risk being denied.

Our pilgrimage this year may not have an expectation of experience, or revelation. It may be just moments of taking things as they come, reading, praying, listening.

Our first steps have been taken, and we find ourselves in the lodging, taking rest on the first night.