PILGRIMAGE AS SPIRITUAL PRACTICE
BY WILL RUTT
In the fall of 2022, a long-time friend of mine, who grew up fishing on the Puyallup River, invited me to go salmon fishing. We got up at an ungodly hour, donning waders and jaywalking in the dark across a four-lane highway to reach the river.
In what is known as “combat fishing,” we lined up with hundreds of other anglers over a half-mile stretch, standing no more than four feet apart from one another. An hour before sunrise, we began sequentially casting our lines and then reeling them in after they landed about 45 degrees downriver.
After slowly getting the hang of the choregraphed dance, I grew more confident (daylight helped a lot!). It felt exhilarating and surreal to hook my first pink salmon under the shadow of the perfectly framed Tahoma.
I didn’t realize how meaningful this ritual would be in reconnecting with myself, experiencing community, and deepening my respect and understanding of the relationship between these beautiful fish, the land, and myself. Today, I prioritize spending time on the Puyallup River during the six weeks of salmon season in August and September.
RediscoveRing Myself
Fishing has been a part of my life for a long time. Growing up, I spent countless hours on the pier in Bell Isle, Canada, fishing for sheep’s head, perch, musky, and lake trout. My dad was the one to teach me, and it continues to be a love we get to share. Despite this love, as I moved into adulthood and a professional life in Phoenix, Arizona, fishing became less accessible. It wasn’t until I moved to Seattle that I rekindled this practice. What I discovered was a deep feeling of home, a groundedness that feels authentic and whole, especially as I revel in the sacredness of this region’s livelihood.
I have also noticed that my own mental health and well-being is strongest during the salmon run. I feel like in many ways I have undergone what Pope Francis references as “ecological conversion,” where a personal relationship with creation leads us to recognize our own weaknesses and encourages us to change (c.f. Laudato Si’, 218)
gRounding in coMMunity
The six weeks of the salmon season have also become an anchor for friendships and community. My friends and I see each other multiple times a week. This past year, I took my dad, brother-inlaw, and two friends out for the first time. I also meet countless folks out on the river throughout the season. It is a beautiful amalgamation of people from different backgrounds, regions,
races, and socioeconomic classes all blended together in a chaotic but generally joy-filled mess.
In addition, as the experience of fishing for salmon transformed me and my understanding of community in powerful ways, it coincided with a similar movement within the Catholic Church in Washington State, as they too recognized the relationship between human community and the salmon. In November 2022, a few months after I went on the river for the first time, Washington’s five bishops issued a pastoral statement called “Caring for Creation and the Common Good in the Lower Snake River Region.”
In the letter, the bishops wrote that “In respecting the dignity of every human person, we first consider the Original Peoples of Washington state.” They also acknowledged that “deliberate action” to develop solidarity with Indigenous leaders was necessary to restore the ecological health of the region and drew ties to Laudato Si’ and Pope Francis’ teaching that Indigenous communities should be the “principal dialogue partners” in any projects affecting their land.
When I read this letter, I felt the Spirit moving through church teaching to animate and name my own experience and identifying a way to live it out in public life. IPJC connected with Jay Julius, a fisherman and the former chair of the Lummi Nation, and the organization he founded, Se’Si’Le, which seeks to utilize Indigenous ancestral knowledge to benefit of Mother Earth and Indigenous lifeways for future generations.
Over time this partnership became the Sacred Salmon Campaign, encompassing a long-term commitment to working to protect, uphold, and restore tribal treaty rights by restoring and revitalizing salmon populations in the Pacific Northwest. We see this work as a direct continuation of the Catholic call to be in right relationship with Indigenous communities and all of creation. Our work is to live the teachings of the church—both in the documents mentioned above and in others1—and, when necessary, to hold the Catholic community accountable to what its state values and teaching.
connection to the land
One of the most magnificent learnings about salmon, for me, has been learning that they are a delivery system of ocean nutrients, sometimes more than 1,000 miles inland. Our forests here in the Northwest are dense and healthy in part due to the nutrient cycling provided by salmon spawning and dying each year in the river. In turn, healthy forests stabilize the banks of rivers and create natural and healthy habitats for salmon to spawn. Restoring salmon populations is not only about protecting natural places but must also consider different cultures and
1 Throughout its history, the Holy Spirit has moved the church toward right relations with Indigenous people, starting with ecumenical letters to Indigenous peoples in 1987 and 1997 and continuing with the Northwest Catholic bishops' pastoral letter in 2001, "The Columbia River Watershed: Caring for Creation and the Common Good." This continues with Pope Francis' two encyclicals, Laudato Si' and Laudate Deum
ways of life, our economic system, and even religious practices. Solutions must be holistic and consider forest health, water quality, air quality, cultural preservation, energy production, and farming infrastructure. Removing dams is important work, but it is not enough. It does not acknowledge all the practices that put salmon, tribal communities, and anyone residing in the Northwest at risk—such as opening the national forest for cutting, loosening environmental regulations, and divesting in green energy infrastructure.
I think all of this is best summed up by the Lummi word, Xallah, which is insufficiently translated as “sacred balance” and is noncoincidently a focus of our upcoming Way of the Mask Journey.
I can’t understate the transformation that this work has offered to me on personal, communal, and societal level. Over time, my experience with salmon has moved from the personal to the collective. This journey has been filled with both joy
and despair, and ultimately I have come to a more robust understanding that God is calling us to be a part of creation.
Will Rutt arrived to Seattle in 2021 and has served as IPJC's executive director since then. . With experience both in community organizing and working with youth, Will brings a particular passion for shaping future social justice leaders and accompanying communities to claim power together. For most of his career, he has focused on issues of immigration, particularly as it impacted students. When Will isn’t working, he can be found spending time with his partner, Elizabeth; their daughter, Olivia; and pup Autumn. He is always trying to get outside to fish, hike, or ski.
Salmon give the gift of ocean nitrogen (N15) to the forest helping it grow faster and healthier. A KEYSTONE SPECIES
rebuild this graphic of salmon as keystone
70% of the nitrogen in trees near salmon spawning streams is from the ocean!
Bears, coyotes and eagles carry salmon into the forest to eat.
Salmon remains attract insects which in turn feed salmon fry!
Salmon are a keystone species vital to the survivial of 137 different fish and wildlife in the forest and ocean.*
Tree shade helps cool creeks where young salmon grow, increasing salmon survival.
*wildsalmoncenter.org/salmon-a-keystone-species/
