AS spring gets into gear, the hills where I live teem with the sort of wildlife you don’t need binoculars to spot. Like goldfinches, they tend to travel in flocks. Unlike goldfinches, they move at a sedate pace, weighed down by backpacks and tents.

This is the species pilgrim, setting off in the footsteps of St Cuthbert and aiming to reach Lindisfarne in time for Easter Sunday. The St Cuthbert’s Way is tramped in all seasons, a 62-mile stretch across some of the finest scenery in the Borders. Easter-time brings rush hour, however, attracting peak devotional traffic.

The other day, my husband came across two jolly parties who had already sampled the delights of the Melrose Sevens rugby event and its hospitable beer tents. As they crested the Eildons and saw the Cheviots beyond, they began to regret their over-indulgence.

Years ago I was startled to pass a barefoot man, in a long hessian tunic, making towards our village. Later, he and a fellow pilgrim were seen carrying a massive wooden cross in the direction of Jedburgh. Whether they reached their destination without the aid of a wheelbarrow we will never know.

That monastic soul came to mind when viewing the first episode of the BBC series Pilgrimage, in which a group of celebrities follow in the path of St Columba through Ireland and Scotland, finishing in Iona.

They have been brought together in search of ... well, we shall see. A deeper connection to their faith, perhaps, or in the hope of igniting a dormant spiritual spark.

Some are practising believers – former England cricketer Monty Panesar is a Sikh, comedian Shazia Mirza is Muslim, social media influencer Scarlett Moffatt is a Christian – while TV personality Nick Hewer professes to be agnostic, the actress Louisa Clein is Jewish, and interior designer Laurence Lewellyn-Bowen describes himself as pagan.

In the next episode they are to be joined by the Paralympian Will Bayley, a lapsed Christian.

As in any mixed company, the devotional spectrum ranges from committed to curious to – one suspects – mildly uncomfortable with too much existential introspection.

Already there have been emotional scenes and tears, but whatever the outcome of their journey it is a thought-provoking idea. Can the act of following a beaten path with companions sharing a single purpose truly bring enlightenment? Is it possible for a lifetime of engrained or casual disbelief to be transformed into real faith, rather than wishful thinking?

Obviously it’s equally possible to go from certainty to scepticism, but that’s not what this programme is about. Unless the practising believers lose their convictions en route – they seem far more likely to lose their way – the script is in that sense already written.

And if nothing else, the rugged landscapes of Donegal and the Highlands are what you might call nature’s cathedral, staggeringly beautiful and awe-inspiring, regardless of your religious stance.

Nick Hewer pinpointed the fundamental problem with any such venture by quoting Thomas Aquinas: “To one who has faith, no explanation is necessary. To one without faith, no explanation is possible.”

As with other motivational soundbites, it’s both true and false. Aquinas was full of sayings, another being: “The soul is like an uninhabited world that comes to life only when God lays his head against us.” Believers might nod in recognition, while those of us on the other side of the fence – me, certainly – feel our hackles rise. The assumption that people of faith are richer individuals is rather belittling.

For Scarlett Moffatt, the idea of a God in charge of the world is a tremendous source of comfort and strength. Nobody can gainsay or criticise her feelings.

Yet it’s possible to find the notion of God anything but helpful. If God exists, then the contradictions are scary, as well as paradoxical. Is the figurehead to whom Russian Orthodox priests pray the same God to whom the people of Mariupol cry out from their cellars as bombs fall upon them?

Yet it’s precisely the dreadfulness of current events that feeds the urge to find meaning or reason amid the chaos and confusion. There has not been a more difficult or testing time in the West since the Second World War: bad enough here, in a country not at war, unimaginable for those living in terror, whom we are all but powerless to help.

So what would it take to make an agnostic or atheist believe in a supernatural being whose masterplan for creation explains our fleeting, fragile existence and offers solace in times of dread?

Is it possible to ignore the questions and enter a spiritual dimension that lifts us beyond the tangible world and its palpable injustices and pain? Indeed, can you go from a faithless perspective to suddenly finding God everywhere you look? And if you can, is that laudable?

Not for me. Like many, I find a measure of understanding or perspective in places that people of faith dismiss as mere accessories to the main event: music, art, books, nature. I’ll never forget the derision in a kirk minister’s voice when one of his congregation admitted he had skipped Sunday worship for a walk in the hills, where he felt closer to God. The divine’s scathing response epitomised the problem of being part of a religious community: free-thinking is rarely encouraged.

Yet people do have sudden, dramatic conversions. Conceivably if somebody’s desperate prayer was answered, that might tip them into faith. “Try praying” says the banner at one church I regularly pass. At the very least it can be a calming experience, even if materially it changes nothing.

There is no easy answer to the world’s plight, and the vagaries of everybody’s individual path. Perhaps there’s no answer at all. It is what it is, might be the atheist’s motto. But that surely doesn’t mean that a life that doesn’t depend on a God cannot be filled with meaning.

Without an omnipotent entity hovering over our heads it’s possible to appreciate what is present and before us, and to work towards a better world, rather than celebrate the invisible and unknowable.

One step at a time is how most of us proceed through our lives, like those walking in the saints’ footsteps. Such are the persuasive powers of television, though, I won’t be surprised if there’s at least one Damascene conversion on the way to Iona.