YOU’VE COME FAR, PILGRIM

 As an avid outdoors person and lover of wild things and wild places, Jeremiah Johnson has for many years been my favorite movie.  I have often thought of the subtle, almost archetypal spiritual imagery in the movie.  Prominent themes of dangerous journeys, life transitions, moving toward spiritual maturity (“higher ground”), great adventures, the wilderness experience as a symbol of finding one’s way in life, leaving behind painful memories and the value of a wise mentor are all features of the movie that are important to me in life and in the practice of ministry.

The first time we meet the main character, he is arriving at the headwaters of the Missouri River in what is now Montana.  He wears a military hat and is apparently a veteran of the Mexican War.  Having come from somewhere “back east,” he arrives here after having “said goodbye to whatever life was down below.” 

Throughout the movie it becomes evident that Johnson is on a solitary trek into the wilderness in search of a new life.  Of course, the wilderness motif is a powerful image of life transitions and is one which I sometimes use in spiritual direction..  This is an image most people can understand, even if they are not familiar with its frequent use in the Old and New Testaments. I might ask, do you ever feel as though you were in the wilderness right now, between one place and another, becoming prepared for the next stage in your life?

It also becomes evident throughout the movie that Jeremiah (a nice, biblical name) leaves behind some painful memories and experiences, some things that he wished had turned out differently.  Apparently, something has happened in his life that was so painful the he is determined to leave everything behind – everything – and start a new life in a new place far away from all the painful memories.  Often we encounter folks who have felt the need to relocate, find a change of scenery entirely in order to move toward healing from painful memories.  But even with this location change, some of these issues can remain unresolved until one does the inner work required.

The fact we are told he said goodbye to whatever life was “down below” suggests a change in altitude –  his new life is literally in the high country, reminiscent of the way the spiritual life is often thought of in images of ascent to higher altitudes, like Thomas Merton’s Seven Story Mountain, or Hannah Hurnard’s Hind’s Feet on High Places.  The trek of Jeremiah Johnson is more than a new beginning.  It is symbolic of the journey toward spiritual maturity, leaving the old life behind and discovering the new.  His odyssey is a metaphor for the stages of spiritual development. 

At first, Jeremiah is inept in his new surroundings.  An Indian sees him trying to catch a fish and laughs at him.  He has a hard time building a fire, finding food, and coping with his new life in general.  He is a novice.  Harsh winters, empty traps, elusive fish, hostile Native Americans, frustrate his new beginning.  Spiritual maturity comes at a price. 

Before long Johnson is discovered and befriended by “Bear Claws” Chris Lapp. Bear Claws is old, gray, and wise in the way of the woods.  He teaches Johnson the life skills he will need, along with giving him advice on how to deal with the Native Americans in the area.  He becomes the archetypal sage, the mentor.  He is also the archetypal trickster, from whom comes much wisdom!  When Johnson first meets Bear Claws, the old man says, “I know who you are; you’re the same dumb pilgrim I’ve been hearin’ for twenty days and smellin’ for three.”  Henceforth Johnson is referred to as “Pilgrim.”  After Bear Claws has mentored Johnson and taught him some high-country survival skills, Johnson sets off once again on his own.  Bear Claws is not out of the picture though: they will meet again.

Jeremiah’s journey from this point is fraught with danger and difficulty, unexpected twists and turns, sadness and sorrow.  By the time he sees his mentor again, he is battle-scarred and weary.  But he would not turn back, even if he could.  Another mountain man, by the name of Del Gue, suggests he might want to return to a town.  “I’ve been to a town, Del,” he says. You can’t go back.

At some point in our lives we are Johnson the pilgrim, and later we become Bear Claws, the wizened mentor.  As pilgrims we are seeking higher ground, and gradually learning the skills of life in the high country, then we get to companion others who are in the process of negotiating the wilderness and finding their way again.

Near the end of the movie, Johnson reconnects with Bear Claws, who still calls him “Pilgrim.”  “You’ve come far, Pilgrim,” he points out.  “Feels like far,” is the response.  “Were it worth the trouble?”  “Ah?  What trouble?” 

The journey is not often easy, but it is always worth the trouble.

“I hope you will fare well.”