Shortly after our commissioning as Pilgrims in Rome's St Gregorio's Church (that is where, tradition says, Gregory the Great 1400 years before sent forth Augustine and his 40 monks), we had our first ride in the bus that soon would be our travelling companion through most of our journey to Canterbury. It was a short ride into the heart of the city. We were then led, on foot, luggage in hand, to the fellowship centre of the St Egidio community, a Roman Catholic lay organisation of people from all walks of life who share a common vision of reconciliation, a vision they make real through concrete efforts in the city and around the world.

After leaving our bags, we were escorted to a nearby church building, and asked to remain outside. Then, as the singing inside stopped, the church doors were swung open wide. We were ushered down the centre aisle to our places amidst the energetic and enthusiastic applause of a full congregation. That was quickly followed by a joyful song of greeting and an inspiring service focused on the Gospel tradition of being sent. What a welcome! What a way to begin our Pilgrimage! The experience was overwhelming. It caught me totally by surprise.

In preparing for the Pilgrimage, I had thought and read and prayed much about the journey we would be making: walking in Augustine's footsteps, with all its 1400 years of history and tradition. I was also excited about sharing this significant time with new friends in Christ. But the welcomes we might receive had hardly entered my consciousness. What an oversight! For that became for me the integrating element in what was to become a magnificent Pilgrim mosaic. The overwhelming experience of that first night had awakened my sensitivities to what it means to be welcomed - and to welcome. And over the next 9 days the welcomes came in a myriad of shapes and sizes. Among them:

• the radiant smiles and the joy-filled applause not only at St Egidio's as we began our pilgrimage but also at Pegwell Bay as we ended it,
• the simple and inspiring singing of the monks and the 2000 young people and the caring hospitality with which we were treated at every turn in Taize
• the grace-filled formality at Mass in the Franciscan Basilica in Assisi on Pentecost and on St Augustine's Day at the Cathedral in Canterbury
• the genuine sharing at the religious communities in Bobbio and I'lle St Honorat
• the warm and personable informality among the parishioners of the Anglican congregation in Nice, the staff at the Diocesan house in Rheims (they even prepared us an "English" breakfast!) and our host families our first night in England.

But there was another dimension to this sense of welcome. There was the welcome we as Pilgrims shared with each other. We came, for the most part, as strangers to each other. We came from varied denominational backgrounds, some from lands other than the UK, each with our own personalities and idiosyncrasies. Yet through the Pilgrimage, we opened the doors of our lives and welcomed one another in. Through this significant Pilgrimage experience, we grew together as we shared our lives and our experiences with each other.

Amidst the deep sense of welcome I was feeling, I also began to wonder what kinds of welcome Augustine and his men got along the way. Where was he surprised by the openness of the welcome and where was he "welcomed" with hostility? Where was he disappointed and where was he overwhelmed? At various monastic communities like I'lle St Honorat, he most certainly was received with honour, as Christ. But, apparently, his anxiety and those of his men grew, as they anticipated the "welcome" they could receive among the pagan Angles t whom they were being sent, even to asking Gregory if they could turn back. What was it like, 1400 years ago?

Through such reflections, I have become increasingly aware of how much life is centred in welcome,: the welcomes I receive, the welcomes I offer. We learn through life's experiences where - and when - we are and are not welcomed; who, among those we know, are more welcoming, - and when. We know the difference between "official" welcomes which can lack genuineness and the warm, personal greetings which spell hospitality. As we travel, we sometimes wonder, perhaps even have anxiety and uncertainty, about the kind of welcome that may await us when we arrive. And the other side of the coin: how I welcome, the doors I open to others and the doors I close; and the changes I make depending on the circumstances.

In the entranceway of my home, there is a plaque which states part of the Benedictine (Augustine's order) rule, "Let all guests to be received as Christ." During this Pilgrimage those words have taken on added depth and significance. In countless ways, the welcome we as Pilgrims received had its origin in being greeted, not on our own merits, but because we came as ambassadors of Christ, and as Christ we were received. And as I experienced those welcomes, I found welling up within myself a deepened personal recommitment of receiving other as Christ.

The Rev Canon J Fletcher Lowe, Jr, Richmond, VA

Canon Lowe also sent this:

Canterbury, St. Augustine's Day 1997 by The The Revd David Woodward

The pomp of passing years
Process before our eyes,
Bishops, Canons, Deans
Of varied shapes and size.

A choral throng is surpliced,
The mace is stately bome,
Assembled in their finest
On this Augustine's mom.

The gathered goods and chattels
Of press and TV crew
Come buzzing in their cluster,
A princely sight to view.

The hour of commemoration
Drags to the appointed spot,
And standing in drafty shadow
Forty-eight contemplate their lot

. Cathedral falls to silence
As pilgrims from Rome's embrace
Each bears a picnic bag
To their allotted place.

We feel, among the splendour
At one with Augustine's band,
We've traveled, shared our stories
To reach this pagan land.

The story still needs telling
To prince and pauper too,
And now a fresh commission
From the Spirit who makes things new.