Claude Anshin Thomas isn't daunted much by thoughts of walking across the desert with his small band of Zen Buddhist companions.
"We've already walked through so much," he said. "Blizzards, hail, thunderstorms, sub-zero weather." But he admits he's not too keen on meeting rattlesnakes. "I'm going to need some training on how to handle that, if it happens."The Buddhist monk started out March 1 from Yonkers, N.Y., on a "mystical" walk across America's heartland that should end in San Francisco around September. Four of his companions, including two from Germany, have been with him since the outset. The other five have joined the walk along the way. Others have come and gone.
The route has been somewhat wandering, with a destination but no hard-set route in mind. The purpose of this kind of "walkabout," Thomas said, is to "step into the unknown and show people that healing is possible." And it's an extension of his daily life. Thomas is a Soto Zen priest, member of a mystic branch that "is not permitted to work, to own or to have a place to live. We are committed to wander and in wandering there is a commitment to service."
When Thomas, 50, decided to set out on the 2,800-walk, he invited the others to join him. But he warned them that they must, for the duration of the journey, agree to the Japanese Buddhist custom of takahatsu - alms-begging.
"We make this trip on faith, without money or supplies," said Wiebke Andersen of Germany, who has been with the group the entire journey. "It is a spiritual walk of 15 to 20 miles a day, an alms-praying pilgrimage."
As they enter towns, they knock on the doors of local churches and ask for food or a place to stay. What kind of church doesn't matter. Many respond with great kindness and love. They have been guests of Bible study groups and Christian youth groups and have taken part in church services.
"And some say no," Andersen said. "When that happens, we sleep outside and don't eat. The pilgrimage is a powerful, spiritual practice. It is to walk and see what arises. To penetrate the unknown."
They also do "street retreats," living under the same conditions as homeless people do. In Salt Lake, they helped a local church prepare about 400 or 500 sack lunches for the homeless. But they never stay in homeless shelters. To do that would be to take away a bed that someone else needs.
"In each urban area, we see how marginalized cultures live," said Thomas. "And how they continue to be marginalized and what can be done to help."
They perform their Buddhist worship service twice a day on the street. But while the service is an essential part of the pilgrimage, proselytizing is not a goal. "We do the service as our own commitment," Thomas said. "If people are interested, we are glad to share with them. But it's not an encouragement to take away someone's faith, but rather to go deeper. It can strengthen you in whatever spiritual tradition you have."
This is the second walk of its kind for Thomas, who was ordained in Auschwitz in 1994 and joined a Japanese Buddhist order on a 5,000-mile walk from there to Hiroshima. In all, they crossed 21 countries, he said, all "places of current and past fighting." Walking across Vietnam was particularly powerful. He was shot down there five times during the Vietnam War.
For the past week, they've rested at the Zen Center on South Temple in Salt Lake City. Saturday, they will set out south through Utah, stopping in Delta briefly before they begin to cross the desert in Nevada.
And if they encounter that rattle-snake, Thomas said, "We will treat it with respect. I hope a snake will realize with gratitude that it met us. We have no desire to hurt them and we leave them be. That's our commitment to respect for all life, without discriminating."