The “Jesuit pilgrimage” is a crazy yet wonderful experience of relying in God’s abundant Providence and learning to trust humanity. I have highlighted a number of experiences and graces I received on pilgrimage in my last blog. But one article is not enough!

Every time, I reflect back on my experience I am amazed how I was given a glimpse into other people’s lived experiences. These other lived experiences often show how privileged I am. After all, the pilgrimage is a voluntarily lived experience. That is a huge difference.

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The day I tried hitchhiking from Allentown, PA to Winchester, VA was a day of unexpected grace and lessons. Oh, there was a big storm heading north in my direction as well that particular day; so there was a bit of pressure to make haste while the sun shone! The first guy who picked me up was very nice but his car reeked of marijuana and ended up dropping me off in the middle of nowhere on the interstate. Rookie mistake to accept that ride. But sure enough, although I couldn’t find a ride, there was a police man who pulled over.

After establishing that I was doing something illegal, he told me that I needed to get off the road because a “bad person” was going to kidnap me. At the same time, given my horrifically remote location and the fact that I had no money, we came to a silent agreement that I would continue hitchhiking as there were no buses and a taxi would be over a $100. Five minutes later I had a ride.

After catching a few more rides I ended up at the Carlisle truck stop. I have never seen so many trucks in my life. I had heard that if catching a ride with truckers you could get lucky and get a long ride. The problem is that you first need to catch a ride. All I can say is good luck.

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Trucking is a very rough and tough environment and it shows. As I stand outside watching the storm now approaching, a lady and a man come out for their smoke break.

“Kid, what the hell do you think you’re doing???”

“Uhh… I am trying to get a ride to Virginia”

“And… why ain’t you taking the bus?” She replied with one eyebrow raised and a look of unbelief.

“I don’t have any money.”

“What?” At this point she, and the man, just looked flabbergasted. “Well we ain’t leaving you out here, that’s for sure. Kid, you are vulnerable – the wrong guy will pick you up and you’ll be raped and trashed in a ditch somewhere. A girl was just found, cut up and dead in the ditch just over there not two weeks ago. This is insane…”

Now I didn’t really know how to repond at this point.

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They took me into her shop, sat me down, gave me pizza, and then they started telling horror story after horror story. But after all this, they found me a ride to Virginia with a Vietnam veteran who had five ex-wives, who all wanted money. A rough life, no doubt!

The real insight though was at the very end of this encounter, the lady remarked, “Finally, I can help someone good. Every time I have helped someone here I have been stabbed in the back. The last guy robbed everything I had of value in my house. Finally, I am helping someone good and who needs it.”

Are we not so fortunate that many of our acts of kindness have been received gratefully? I do not know if I lived my whole life where doing a good act, not even a religious act, was returned with hatred whether I would still be able to go out of my way to love the other. Truly, truckers will enter heaven long before I do!

Today, it is true that there are many violent environments one can find oneself. For many though, the more present reality is the challenges of migrating as refugees.

In San Diego, I found myself on the curb with a cardboard sign that read “Trying to go HOME” and an empty cup. I got almost $100 in 5 hours – a clear sign of my privilege. Across the street was an African-American. A bylaw officer kicked him out of his spot twice. I was never even approached.

Source: thinkdignity.org

As noon approached a large van drove by me. In big letters along the side of the van read, “Department of Deportation.” My heart started beating as in big letters was written “HOME” on my sign. The van drove by. Not two minutes later, the van pulled up on the street directly in front of me. I credit my skin color and clean appearance as to why I was not questioned (and possibly deported).

After that experience, I couldn’t imagine what it is like for illegal immigrants who live in fear as they are being hunted.

I am a privileged Canadian young white male. I can do an act of kindness and be rewarded with a fuzzy feeling and a smile. I can live a good life without ever-present fear of deportation. My experience is graced with very fortunate experiences. Pilgrimage shattered many of my misconceptions about others.

Source: pbhgc.org

The big grace in these two experiences was not that I need to teach people how to love, they know how to love so much better than I do, rather it is to give them the freedom so that they can love as they want to.