“Wherever you go, there you are.” I tend to think about that aphorism anytime I have to travel. For some reason I couldn’t remember where it comes from this time, so I made the mistake of googling it. It appears that there has been a popular book by that name recently. So, all the current links google served up were from some Western Buddhist wannabe. But the original place I remember it from is Thomas A Kempis in his “The Imitation of Christ.” His larger context was The Cross.
“No one is so touched with a heartfelt sense of the Passion of Christ, as the man whose lot it has been to suffer like things. The cross, then, is always at hand, and everywhere awaits you. You cannot escape it, run where you will; for wherever you go, you take yourself with you, and you will always find yourself.”
A more modern translation of that runs:
“So, the cross is always ready and waits for you everywhere. You cannot escape it no matter where you run, for wherever you go you are burdened with yourself. Wherever you go, there you are.”
I usually hate travel. Unless I’m going to some all inclusive beach resort, the effort and expense of travel just never seem worth it. I’m not unmoved by the Romance of it. I’d love to go to Constantinople. The problem is that Constantinople doesn’t exist. And even Istanbul doesn’t exist as it is in my conception. I’m convinced that travel is on so many people’s lists of dreams to do because they are running from the cross. They have bought into the simple Jimmy Buffet transaction – Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude – without contemplating He Went to Paris, or even better “Hell, it could be my fault.” We think we can run away from the cross. Yet wherever we go, there we are. Whatever we thought we were escaping, we bring it with us. But what is it we bring?
When Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me (Mark 8:34),” we often take this as a call to some form of the ascetic life. We look at the cross as doing something that our authentic selves does not want. But that is the way to works righteousness, or maybe even worse, to the perennial martyr. What it really means is crucifying the Old Adam. It means mortifying the sin that lives within our members. For it is only then that we meet our true self. For Jesus’ invitation is followed by the saying, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it. (Mk. 8:35 ESV)” We can travel around the world sucking the morrow out of life, and we shall lose it. For wherever we go, we are like poor Marley’s ghost, adding links to the chain of who we think we are.
But wherever we are, at whatever age, or place or spin of fortune’s wheel, there is a cross. Christ chose the cross. He set his face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). And it is only through the cross that the true Christ was shown. “This man is the son of God (Mark 15:39).” It is in picking up our cross that we for the first time know who we are. Who is the person we have stopped running from? What have we accepted as the call of love in our lives?
Wherever we go, we are burdened by our sinful nature. It used to be standard reading – Pilgrim’s Progress. The initial picture of Christian on his pilgrimage is carrying this heavy bag. And he thinks that bag is everything. It is only at the cross that the bag falls off and Christian knows himself. His pilgrimage is just beginning. His travels are extensive. But from that point on it is himself. And his walk is heavenward all the way. We imitate Christ when embrace the cross, when we attempt to live the call of love in our lives and stop running from it.
