The Ascent of the Soul: A Pilgrimage to St. Ninian's Cave

In the poem The Green Knight, Sir Gawain embarks on a journey to the Green Chapel in hopes of finding his honor. The story begins on Christmas, as King Arthur and his gallant knights are seated at the Round Table. Suddenly, a mysterious green knight enters the court and proposes a daring game. He challenges any one of the knights to strike him once, with the condition that in a year’s time, he will return the blow at the Green Chapel. Sir Gawain, who has not yet experienced fame or honor like the others present, feels compelled to take up this challenge. After striking the Green Knight’s head off and to everyone's astonishment, the knight calmly picks up his severed head and reminds Sir Gawain of their agreement: in one year's time, he will reciprocate the blow.

The story is laden with symbolism, existential angst, and allegory. Sir Gawain’s quest is a journey to discover honor and to achieve the fame like that of his illustrious counterparts. Along the way, he faces trials of virtue, which contribute to his growth and transformation into the knight he aspires to become. In fact, his journey and subsequent trials become the mechanism of his own transformation, which shows more of his moral progress than the destination itself. Through Sir Gawain’s voyage, he discovers more about himself and realizes the extent of who he is as a knight, in his successes and failures.

This spiritual ascent is a well-recognized motif throughout Christian history as well. One noteworthy example is an early medieval text, a cornerstone of monasticism known as The Ladder of Divine Ascent. This text outlines a thirty-step plan for individuals to attain spiritual enlightenment or oneness with God. Each step of the divine ascension is full of aphorisms that prepare the individual to experience God and attempts to purge the soul of moral imperfections. Again, here, as in the Green Knight, the ascent of the soul, like the voyage of Sir Gawain, is dramatically important for a life of spiritual clarity. The theme of the soul’s ascent resonates universally with people, as we all embark on our own personal journeys to break free from the shackles of contentment, fulfill our purposes in the Lord, and seek a deeper connection with the Divine.

During a recent trip to Whithorn, I had a glimpse of this profound journey in my own life. The historic site of St. Ninian’s cave and of Candida Casa, the traditional location of the church building he established, is located in the southwestern part of Scotland. St. Ninian, a Bishop, was dispatched by the Catholic Church to this area in the 4th/5th century. His mission was to guide and nurture the Christian community there. The Venerable Bede documented his contributions, which included bringing skilled stone masons from the south and constructing a church. In its heyday, Whithorn was a vibrant hub, boasting one of the first stone church structures on the British island during this time, which was an extraordinary accomplishment. The town also served as a vital port of access to the northern part of the island, which functioned as an apostolic base for sending monks and missionaries. Over time, the town’s prominence faded, hastened by the Scottish Reformation, which outlawed bishops, monasteries, and pilgrimages, leaving behind a smattering of small villages and ancient ruins like we see today.

Throughout its history, Whithorn remained a significant pilgrimage site for devout penitents and even members of royalty. Pilgrims would make the arduous journey, some even carrying rock carvings adorned with intricate Celtic patterns or other religiously significant designs to demonstrate their devotion. For many, the long and challenging trek symbolized a penitent heart in search of redemption, making it a powerful and spiritually rich destination.

As my friend and I strolled from the car park toward St. Ninian’s Cave, we ventured into a forested trail adorned with lush vegetation that could have easily existed in the Jurassic Period. The forest canopy acted as a protective shield, obstructing our view of the sun while allowing slivers of light to pierce through and illuminate the trail. The walk was simultaneously serene, imparting a sense of peace and relaxation, and exhilarating. We were filled with anticipation, knowing that the very same trail had been traversed by countless pilgrims throughout history. The weight of this rich tradition and spiritual heritage seemed to hang in the air, infusing our journey with an unseen energy.

We eventually reached a ravine with steep rocky walls on either side, obstructing our path to the beachfront. These walls acted like blinders, like those worn by horses on a race track. The dramatically sloped walls restricted our peripheral vision, as we focused solely on the way forward. In a way, the ravine sharpened our vision, cleared our hearts and minds, and prepared us for the final section of the trail.

As we emerged from the ravine, we were rewarded by strong winds and an incredible vista of the ocean. The narrow and confined trail finally gave way to the majestic sight of the endless ocean and stunning beachfront. We walked along the isolated beach toward the cave situated atop a rocky ascent. Nestled between the wild forest and the infinite ocean stood St. Ninian's prayer cave. This cave is believed to have been a place of solitude and prayer for St. Ninian, and it has since become a cherished part of the local tradition. Here, we stopped to observe the mouth of the cave and the craggy entrance. We walked to the end of the allotted space and prayed a short prayer and counted it as a blessing to step into the tradition of countless others who made this their destination.

This short hike brought to my attention the rich history of pilgrimages like this, where people searched for redemption, forgiveness, and blessing. It also evoked the rich symbolism found in poems such as The Green Knight, where Sir Gawain, like many of us today, sought to achieve something that fulfilled his longing to belong in the world and make sense of who he was. This hike was timely for me, as I sometimes feel as though the destination is illusory, and I am uncertain about what the next step even is. What I learned is that the journey is often more important than the destination.

Let me elaborate what this means instead of leaving this hackneyed phrase without an explanation. I have come to realize that I often think of achievement in terms of accomplished goals, such as finishing a piece of writing, getting a grant, or securing a specific job. While I still consider these things successes, there are other metrics of what is fulfilling to me. One of these successes is my own moral development, which is shaped by my experiences. Often, it is through difficult times where I feel a sense of my own moral limitations and it's when I trust the Lord to teach me to better handle those situations.

I also consider my growing faith and awareness of God's presence a blessing and achievement. Over the years I have learned the habit of "practicing the presence of God" as Brother Lawerence teaches us. Access to God has been an evolving experience to me, where the trite and everyday moments are potential opportunities to acknowledge God and communicate to Him.

Unfortunately, or perhaps, ideally, this moral and spiritual progress does not correspond to my own personal ambitions. Instead, it has developed through the practice of acknowledging God daily and has allowed me to perceive His continued guidance in my life. The lifelong pilgrimage of the soul is a gradual ascent to the peaks of experiences and understanding. The journey is more about the accumulation of moments where our trust and knowledge of God can be strengthened and less about goals to be attained.