The last few months in our electoral politics have been chaotic. Between the attempts to assassinate former President Donald Trump, President Joe Biden’s withdrawal from the presidential race, Vice President Kamala Harris becoming the new Democratic candidate, and the energy of the Republican and Democratic National Conventions, it is clear that we are living in a time of great societal shifts. Across our faith traditions, we have many names for such times of great opportunity. Among Christians, we often call them “Kairos” moments.
Kairos can show up in myriad ways, and we see it throughout history, like when the Holy Spirit on Pentecost inspired the spreading of the good news of Jesus in countless languages. Sometimes, a Kairos moment appears all at once; at other times, it is a journey building toward a significant moment. But all Kairos moments give us a glimpse of the divine. They invite us to change our behavior. They ask, “How do we use this appointed time to further the liberation, love, and justice God asks of us?”
This past summer, I spent 10 days walking 100 miles of the Camino de Santiago, a pilgrimage route through Spain, France and Portugal established in the Middle Ages. The route includes multiple roads starting from different locations and terminating at the Cathedral of St. James in Santiago de Compostela in Spain. For 1,000 years, pilgrims have walked these roads seeking healing, miracles, forgiveness or enlightenment. My journey also taught me unexpected lessons about how to lead while holding the past, present and future in mind.
The physicality of the Camino gave rise to my first lesson along the way and taught me about navigating our present social conditions. Some parts of the Camino cross high mountain ridges, and I felt off balance and anxious when walking along edges with no barriers and a sharp drop-off. I realized that focusing on my core made me less dizzy when walking along a ridge. The adjustment I needed to make was a physical intervention, not a cognitive one. By not focusing most of my attention on external factors, including the danger, I allowed my internal sense of balance to provide the strongest foundation for navigating the challenge before me. It allowed me to remember how my faith in God and my core values provide me with stability and focus as I lead through difficult situations. In our present national moment, we each need to focus on our core values in order to navigate the uncertainty and the dangers we face as a society.
My second lesson was about the future. Like many leaders, I lean into being as prepared as possible to ensure optimal results. I trained for the Camino de Santiago by walking several miles daily, including altitude adjustments when possible. Despite my preparation, I encountered challenges on the road that left me wondering whether I could complete the journey. By the end, I realized that my preparation had equipped me more than I had anticipated. I found myself reflexively using breathing exercises, which I learned while practicing yoga, to navigate the most challenging parts of the journey. I realized I had fewer muscle aches than anticipated because I had invested in learning to stretch correctly. Despite facing high humidity and temperatures in the 90s, I was never dehydrated because I had learned from previous trips how to hydrate well before hiking in the heat. And all along the way, God provided help when I needed it, whether it was shade, water, encouragement or a bathroom. My training for the Camino and the wisdom I’d gathered through life prepared me to meet these challenges, and I drew on them instinctually. We do our best to plan for future events, but sometimes a daunting situation leaves us feeling unequipped. We must remember that God prepares us in ways we do not always consider.
My third lesson was about the past. Toward the middle of our journey, I was walking alone down a tree-lined path and heard a man behind me whistling beautifully. It reminded me of my grandfather, Warren Donald, of whom my fondest memories include his beautiful whistling. Suddenly, I felt my grandfather with me. The feeling was so palpable that I almost started to cry, and it stopped me in my tracks. Immediately, I felt my grandmother and countless others at my side and my back, accompanying me on this road. I sensed that my ancestors and many people who had walked the Camino before me were present with me. Later, on the last day of my journey, I felt again the sensation of being accompanied by my ancestors. About three miles from the cathedral, I felt an overwhelming sense of joy. I had an uncontrollable desire to laugh with delight and felt they were laughing with me. I knew I was not alone in my journey, as we are not alone in our efforts to bring about a healthy, loving society. Our ancestors and predecessors walk with us on this journey, and they delight in our courage, perseverance and success. The saints that many of our faith traditions honor stand with us in a tradition of love, justice and liberation and share our joys and sorrows as we continue the journey.
Many of us have spent our lives building collective power that we hope will work on behalf of justice and peace in our world. In our current Kairos moment, we have the potential and the opportunity for significant change in the world. Kairos moments challenge each of us to embrace opportunities to be leaders in this effort. My experiences on the Camino helped me see more clearly how I might navigate the road ahead. We are steady when we remain centered on our values. We carry wisdom and skills from years of practice and preparation. And we never walk the road of peace and justice alone. We exist in God’s time now. Let’s live like it.
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