The Pilgrim and the Politician

A man begins a pilgrimage to Rome in Canterbury, England, and eventually arrives at the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard. As he walks, he carries 88 years of joy, sorrow, and a rather large backpack on his back.

Traveling from Bern to the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard is another man, who is also on a journey. As he makes his way, he carries the arrival of a new baby and the weight of his country’s future on his back.

Pilgrims walk for different reasons. Our pilgrim walked, but he did not know why. He only knew he was called to walk and was uninterested in “why.” Politicians attend events for a myriad of reasons. Our politician attended an event in late June because he knew he should be there. He didn’t pay much attention to “why.” Both men were answering a call.

Nationality separated them. Language separated them. Normal, everyday differences separated them.

Why did Brian walk? Why did Christophe attend that concert?

Perhaps one of the many reasons Brian walked and Christophe attended that concert could be this blog post and the mere fact that you are reading it.

It’s 2014 and we can be jaded and cynical. Most of us see politicians as untouchable and most of us do not pay any attention to pilgrims. A politician would never waste his time talking to a pilgrim and they certainly would not be at the same event because politicians go to fancy places and pilgrims do not.

Wrong.

There are still places in this world that transcend language, nationality, age, religious beliefs, socio-economic differences. There are still places that bring people together for a common purpose, known or yet unknown. There are still places where two men from completely different walks of life can be brought together to share things – ideas, music, Raclette. There are places where the sting of cynicism is made weak.

We have to treasure these places and nourish them. We must feed them with our time, with our resources, and with our very best intentions. We have to look at these places as true sanctuaries because that is what they are.

They are places where the shoes on your feet do not matter. They are places where the color of your hair, your skin, your coat…none of it matters. They are places where a pilgrim and a politician are both seen as exactly what they are:  God’s children – truly equal and worthy of unconditional love and acceptance.

We must give our best to these places and the people walking into them. Both are deserving of our adoration.

I could say many things about the pilgrim and the politician. They are two of the finest men I have met in a very long time. It is not the point. The point is much simpler than that.

There is a place on the border between Switzerland and Italy where a pilgrim and a politician sat together and shared an important life moment.

That place is the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard.

You should go there and give it your best. If you cannot go there, you can still give it your best.

Donate 5 dollars, 10 Euro, 20 CHF, or 100,000£. What is your best? Give that.

Hospice du Gd-St-Bernard – 1946 Bourg-St-Pierre – Suisse
Union de Banque Suisse – 1920 Martigny
IBAN        CH50 0026 4264 6946 8001 X
BIC          UBSWCHZH80A

If we don’t give these places our best, how can this happen?

The Pilgrim and the Politician
The Pilgrim and the Politician

 

 

I am not Maria Callas, I am Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote

I learned a tough lesson yesterday, really tough: sometimes my “best” is simply not possible. Especially after I’ve neglected my health, my well-being, and, well, myself.

I was this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Ra7U547z-w but now I’m someone that has to wear a back brace to sing simple songs.

Listen, don’t cry for me Argentina. I have no doubt that Mimi, Contessa, Pamina, Fiordiligi, Euridice, a wicked Callas impression, etc. are all still hidden in my body somewhere. I know I can find them again someday, if I want to.

But it sure as hell won’t happen Sunday. My best for Sunday was really broken down yesterday by my amazing collaborator, Iryna. Where am I now? What is my best today, not in 2007 or 2009 or even 2012?

That was a hard moment for me. My best today looks nothing like my best from just one year ago. Before, it was just stress. Now? I can’t walk sometimes.

Bach wrote SDG at the end of a many of his works – Soli Deo Gloria – “to God alone be the glory.” That’s part of my “best” and my best because both the inflated version of what I can do and the ground-level-getting-real version purpose together to meet that goal: give it to God.

My best for Sunday will be singing a nice concert. It won’t be singing my beloved arias because my body simply cannot do it. It won’t be looking super glamorous because I look exactly how I feel, which is hopeful but tired. The hardest “it won’t be” is that this concert won’t be what I want.

But the event will be exactly what I want. My friends, the good ones that don’t say “uh, I’m just, uh, not feeling, uh”…they will be there. Probably one or two strangers will be there. Iryna will be there. God bless him, Canon José Mittaz of Grand St. Bernard will come down from a mountain, take a 4-hour journey…and be there. Everyone will be talking about the place I love: the Hospice du Grand St. Bernard.

So, it was enough of a reason to drag my body out of bed, to the couch, turn on the heating pad (my boyfriend), and type these words. I see my phone and want to SMS Jackson (“Snow” will be amazing) and also get a cup of coffee, but Jessica Fletcher needs to stay on her heating pad.

SDG