By the time I was 11 years old, I had pretty much decided to become a detective. I was reading the books and rehearsing the observational habits. I had assembled my own working detective’s kit which, among other items I’ve forgotten, included a magnifying glass, talcum powder, a small paintbrush, and scotch tape for preserving the telltale fingerprints that the talcum powder revealed. I don’t remember ever cracking any cases, but I kept my eyes peeled for criminals and occasionally dusted for prints around the house to keep my skills sharp.
Around the same time, I also became intrigued with tracking—an affiliated skill that I assumed would be handy for an enterprising detective. We lived in the hills of Oregon, so there were plenty of opportunities for practice. There were the deer that frequented the backyard and sometimes the garden. In the winter, the birds, mice, and raccoons left their marks in the snow. My younger siblings also provided opportunities for occasional tracking in the damp soil of the driveway or in the duck pen beneath my tree fort.
The habit that I was developing without realizing it was an attitude of attentiveness. I was training myself to become curious about the unseen. This is a practice that can be beneficial in many ways. For example, it can improve my relationships. It can make me a better cook or security guard or account manager. It can make it easier to find my house keys. It might also keep me from getting run over by a bus or falling in a hole.
Being attentive matters in my spiritual life as well. Am I seeking to know God’s will for some decision? Trying to make the right turns in life and stay on the good path? Followers of Jesus believe that the Spirit of God resides in us to help us grow and mature in our faith. We are connected to, and dependent on, a living presence that illuminates our hearts and speaks to us in many different ways. In addition, this same Spirit invites us to participate in God’s work of redemption in the world. Given all of this, it’s clear that cultivating spiritual attentiveness (i.e. being a good detective) is an essential skill. How else are we to recognize the signs when God is leading us?
Last summer, my wife and I spent two weeks walking in Portugal and Spain. The Camino de Santiago is a pilgrimage that people have been making for hundreds of years. While there are many reasons one might walk the Camino, the daily process is generally the same for everyone. Each morning, the pilgrim awakens, assembles her things, and sets off down the path. Pilgrims rarely consult a map to find their way. Instead, they watch for the signs—just like a detective—that have been scattered along the trail, posted on trees, fence posts, and bridges, or embedded in the ground. Many times the signs pointing out the next turn on the journey to Santiago are just little arrows painted on a wall, easy to miss. At the end of the day, if they have remained on the trail, the tired pilgrims find food and places to rest waiting for them. When the morning comes, the walk begins again.
In my regular, non-pilgrim life, I’m a lover of maps. As Catherine and I started off on our first day on the Camino, it seemed vaguely worrisome—to me, but apparently not to her—that we would walk with no map in hand and no list of turns to get us through the maze of country roads and forest paths. The book that we carried assured us that there would be a place to stay at the end of the day, but it gave precious little detail as to how we should arrive there. We were dependent on the signs.
The next two weeks were challenging, and educational. I learned to keep an eye on the path and to keep watch for signs, hidden in unexpected places. I discovered the satisfying flow of walking by faith, both restful and alert, waiting for the next marker to appear. I learned the patterns, and began to anticipate the locations where the trail guides had posted signs. I also learned that even if you miss a turn, there will almost always be someone who will point you in the right direction, if you’re paying attention and willing to listen. I learned to enjoy the scenery more—Look at that beautiful vineyard! How old is that church? Who are the others walking this path and why?—and to worry less about making a wrong turn.
Eventually, we found our way to Santiago. We had kept alert for the signs, navigated the turns, and trusted the path. We sat in the grand plaza, our feet tired and sore...but we were smiling and proud, with the lessons of the Camino shining brightly in our memory. Then we boarded a plane and flew home. And Monday morning came and there were no little yellow arrows on the walls, no signs on the fence posts along the way. Now it was time to apply our lessons to real life.
For a pilgrim follower of Jesus, learning to be attentive to the signs and marks of the Spirit is a capacity born of long practice. I keep my spiritual eyes open, even when the way is dim. I measure my progress in steps—one foot after the other—and when the day is over, I rest and begin again. As I walk, I cease my hurried thoughts and relinquish my anxieties. I tune my ears to listen for the still, small voice. I give thanks for the beauty around me, the moments of grace that appear along the way. Each day unfolds a new path, with new challenges, but over time I begin to see the patterns. I recognize the quiet work of God all along the way and gradually I find that the path is becoming clearer and the signs more easy to identify.
Every detective needs at least one clue to start out. Here is one that I have found to be dependable: when the Spirit of God is at work there are always signs of love-in-action. These are the often-unexpected moments when love surfaces like a dolphin in the waves: a kind word or gesture, an act of undeserved generosity, or a simple moment of understanding that brings a change in the air between two people. If you see these signs, look around! God is up to something!
Sometimes love-in-action takes on bigger forms as well. Maybe a sacrificial gift or a message of hope to one who has none. Maybe peace that reaches out when violence was expected. Maybe forgiveness, as deep as the ocean, that transforms a life, or a nation. Maybe grace that never runs out. To each one of us, Jesus was God’s greatest sign of love-in-action, and every other sign points us to him.
Here’s a bonus: In the letter to the Galatians, Paul gives some additional clues to help us in our detective work. He calls them the “fruit” of the Spirit. They shine like a line of glowing lights along the path— love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
What are you doing God, and how can I be a part of it? This is the question of the pilgrim disciple, both restful and alert, heart tuned to the voice of the Spirit. The answer is in the walking. The signs will be there, all along the path, like little arrows pointing toward home. We need only to pay attention, and follow.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Peter Schrock is Novo’s director of communications and has been with Novo since 2001. He and his wife Catherine live in San Diego.