11/3/2011

REVERE - One does not often see pilgrims on a spiritual journey at Revere Beach.

So, the sight of a rag-tag, rugged-up, backpacked, staff-carrying group of men and women trudging through the whipping wind stopped a few people in their tracks along the Boulevard Sunday afternoon [Oct. 30].

"Are you guys a special group or something?" a middle-aged man asked.

Pretty special, yes.

Traditionally, pilgrims throw off the trappings of this world in their quest for spiritual truth, leaving their homes and belongings behind, walking great distances in the hope of coming closer to God.

But few of those walking this day had much to leave behind in the first place. Most were homeless, part of the congregation at Ecclesia Ministries, the Boston Common street church.

And so they were more prepared than most for the 50-mile journey, which started Sunday morning ast St. Paul's Cathedral, where Ecclesia is based, and ended at a monastery in West Newbury yesterday afternoon.

To be homeless is to walk.  You walk to soup kitchens.  You walk to keep warm.  ou walk to keep boredom at bay.

"I walk all day," Dave R. said, powering along the frigid waterfront in a Notre Dame Fighting Irish sweatshirt--no coat, no hat, no gloves. "It kind of calms me down, actually, like meditation.  I can walk this whole thing blind."

You walk to avoid trouble.

"When you're homeless, you've gotta be somewhere else," said Paul, a ponytailed Texan in a long khaki coat and jaunty black hat.  "People get to know your face, they start giving you problems."

Still, they have baggage--and aspirations--like everybody else.

"I'm here to get closer to God," said Brenda, a tall, funny woman. She put a hand on her neck, where an ex-boyfriend stabbed her earlier this year. "I owe God a lot because he gave me a second chance."

David Hurley lost his father not long ago, though nobody told him until after the funeral.  He joined the pilgrimage "to keep my spirituality intact, to get to know God better, and myself."

Paul said, "I can't tell you why I'm here until it's done." For him, and for a few of the others, it felt odd to be walking with a group. They're used to being alone, and they like it.

But within a few hours, they had fallen into familial roles. Steve, quiet and strong at the head of the pack, carried bags that grew too heavy for others. Rich clowned his way down the line, entertaining everybody. Paul sheep-dogged the group, making sure nobody got behind.

The road was drawing them together. For once, they felt defined by their gifts rather than their needs.  And each night, aching and exhaused, they were welcomed into churches, where they got warm meals and cozy spots to unroll thier sleeping bags and meditate.

When they arrived, groaning, at the First Church of Swamscott at the end of that first day, it seemed like some might not make it all the way to West Newbury. But they all pushed through, overcoming arthritic joints, sprained ankles, and blisters to arrive yesterday afternoon, blissful.

"We're all being freed by...our need for each other, and by that simple walk, walk, walk," said Tina Rathbone, one of Ecclesias's visionary ministers.  "It quite giddy-making.  You look with a little bit of sadness at everyone who isn't on the pilgrimage. 'Oh, poor you!'"

Paul, the loner who hadn't known what he was looking for, said he'd "found the meaning of family. It's definitely a life-altering experience."

He'd like to keep walking with this group, but that's not possible. This afternoon, he and the others will be on a bus back to Boston.

"Now I'll go back to being homeless," he said.

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Yvonne Abraham is a Globe columnist. She can be reached at