The Barefoot Pilgrims of Lalibela

Every January, hundreds of thousands of Ethiopian Orthodox Christians set out on foot toward the ancient city of Lalibela, high in the mountains of northern Ethiopia. Some walk for days, even weeks, across rugged highlands and dusty valleys. They carry little — perhaps a blanket, some bread, a walking stick. Many travel barefoot, their feet cracked and bleeding on the rocky paths. Yet witnesses consistently describe the same remarkable scene: as the pilgrims catch their first glimpse of the eleven rock-hewn churches carved from solid stone in the twelfth century by King Lalibela, exhaustion gives way to singing. Strangers embrace. Tears stream down weathered faces.

One pilgrim, interviewed by a BBC crew in 2010, said simply, "The journey is hard. But when I see the house of God, my heart forgets my feet."

The psalmist understood that feeling perfectly. "I was glad when they said to me, 'Let us go to the house of the Lord!'" David did not write about arriving at a building. He wrote about arriving among God's people, in God's presence, at the place where heaven and earth seemed to overlap.

Worship has always been worth the journey. Whether the road is literal or figurative, whether we walk through grief or doubt or sheer weariness, there is a gladness waiting for those who press on toward the gathering of the faithful — a gladness that makes the feet forget their aching.