The story has been told and retold in various versions since at least the 19th century. European missionaries serving in Africa (or explorers, adventure travelers, American tourists, depending on which version you prefer) hired local villagers as porters to help carry supplies to a distant station. The porters walked at a slower pace than the missionaries desired, so after the first two days, they pushed them to go faster. On day three of the trek, the group went twice as far as day two. Around the campfire that evening, the missionaries congratulated themselves for their efficiency and power to motivate the locals.
The next morning, the porters would not budge.
“What’s wrong?” asked the missionaries.
“We cannot go any further today,” replied the villagers’ spokesman.
“Why not?”
“We travelled so quickly yesterday; we must wait here for our souls to catch up with us.”
Walking has long been used as a metaphor for living, and even though most of us drive and fly places, we still talk about life’s pace and about taking it one step at a time. In Scripture, walking with God or walking before God describe our efforts to live faithfully. The prophet Isaiah tells the inhabitants of Jerusalem, “When you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”[1]
I look forward to walking a long stretch of the GTA, a trail in the Italian Alps, in June, at just the right pace to give my soul a chance to catch up. Rebecca Solnit writes, “I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought, or thoughtfulness.”[2] In the Alps, I’ll be looking for trail markers to keep me moving in the right direction, but I trust that the rhythm of walking will also help me think about the way ahead for ministry, and to listen for the word behind me, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”
[1] Isaiah 30:21; and yes, the prophet sounds a little bit like the Mandalorian, although I would suggest it’s the other way round.
[2] Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A history of walking (New York: Penguin, 2001), 10.