Pilgrimage to Santiago

It was a damp and chilly Tuesday morning as our group of twenty youth and their leaders from Church of the Holy Communion gathered on the Camino de Santiago in the town of Sarria in Northern Spain. With a few unexpected difficulties changing our US currency, we were taking much longer than expected to begin our journey to Santiago de Compostela. We were to hike between fourteen and sixteen miles a day and arrive in Santiago on Saturday afternoon. We had been preparing on Saturdays by hiking at Shelby Farms and our spirits were high and enthusiasm strong. Although we were hiking to Santiago Cathedral, the reliquary of the body of the Apostle St. James, we were also hiking to grow closer together as a community, to find the many ways that the Spirit is present in our lives, and to learn more about our own selves and our relationship with Christ through the struggle of being in a foreign environment, uncomfortable, and physically in pain. We were walking in the footsteps of thousands of others all on a spiritual quest trusting in the path that others had walked before us.

By four in the afternoon we began arriving at the town of Portomarin. A few of our group were really beginning to struggle. One even believed at that point that he would not even be able to finish the first day of hiking. I have to admit, I was very surprised with the high degree of difficulty of our walk and had little faith that our whole group would be able to complete our journey.

Wednesday’s hike led us through Hospital da Cruz which owes its name to an old pilgrims’ hospital that existed until the late 18^th century. We hiked, still in high spirits today as our pilgrims sang songs and recited prayers to pass the time as we hiked to Palas de Rei. Those that struggled the day before during the hike had made peace with their pain and pushed on today, at a slower pace, but none-the-less moving forward one step at a time.

On Thursday we began hiking to Arzua, passing through ancient yet hospitable villages such as Furelos where we visited the Parish Church of San Juan which dates back to the 12^th century. Thursday brought different spirits within the group. People began to really spread out and hike at different paces, and pilgrims who had previously been the pace setters began to settle in at the back of the group. There were moments of joy and wonder when our group lifted each other up through songs and words of praise and our weaknesses were exposed. By this point in our pilgrimage, most everyone had some sort of physical problem. The only young person who didn’t have problems with his feet, caught a stomach bug.

Yet through the blisters, bloody feet, sore knees, ankles, calves, hips, and Achilles tendons, we marched into Santiago de Compostela on Saturday afternoon, silently reflecting how five days and seventy five miles of hiking had changed our lives. We stood in awe before the massive Santiago Cathedral only to stand next to another pilgrim from Memphis who had been hiking for six weeks to get to this point. He was one of only three pilgrims from the United States we had met but helped us to understand how connected we had become to the whole world.

Our pilgrimage to Santiago, this Journey to Adulthood pilgrimage, was beautiful and challenging, painful yet full of joy, causing us to trust in those that had gone before us marking the road with yellow arrows and leading our way to God. The five days on the Camino helped us to better understand the earthly pilgrimage we are on, trusting in those who go before us to lead us and keep us on the path to God, through pain and joy, and through beauty and hardships. It caused us to rely on the support of our friends who came back to walk with us and help pull us through the stretches of walking that we were unable to do on our own. And by that support of those friends and fellow pilgrims, helped to show us the presence of Christ in our lives.

Arzua to A Rua

We left early and farther behind the other pilgrims today which gave us the feeling of being crowded on the way to Santiago. As we hiked through Arzua, many pilgrims were stumbling sleepily on the Camino and we begin to see that many more than we had crossed over the past three days were making their way to Santiago. We also began to recognize faces and names which helped to create a bond with the other pilgrims, at least the ones who valued us a real and legitimate pilgrims.
It only took a good half hour for my body to begin to feel all of the pain from the many hours of hiking over the last three days. And our group was beginning to look like pilgrims. No longer did everyone sing and dance along the way. We walked by puting one foot painfully in front of the other in silence and in prayer. I began to pray the prayer our group has been using all week to help get me through. The prayer goes as so:

Bless to us, O God, the earth beneath our feet.
Bless to us, O God, the path whereon we go.
Bless to us, O God, the people whom we meet. Amen.

I have been saying this prayer for hours of the last few days but today, it feels new and different. I begin to be able to say other prayers over this prayer and more and more beauty and meaning comes alive. The first time our pilgrims prayed this together, I had no clue how it would work, but now the prayer has become alive and organic and helps me become one with the way. As I pray for the earth I submit to the whole world in the way I live that I open up being compassionate to all that God has created. As I pray for the path whereon we go, I pray for myself, the journey that I am on, and where God is leading me, today, tomorrow, and the rest of my life. And as I pray for the people whom we meet, I pray for all whom I have been blessed to meet in my short life.

I am learning how to pray in silence and in pain as I work on making this journey to Santiago. The road has become far more challenging and difficult but every step and every breathe of this prayer helps me recognize that this journey is just another day in my life and this prayer is all that I need forever. Help me to take care of God´s creation. Help me to take care of myself. And help me to take care of others.
Amen.

And now as I have just walked into A Rui, my feet are badly blistered, but I will walk into Santiago tomorrow in less than twenty four hours hours and tears will probably fill my eyes. And my journey will continue.

Palas de Rei to Arzua

I wonder what really makes someone a pilgrim? Is it leaving home in search of something greater? Is it journeying to a sacred place in which you find great value. As seven of us stormed up a hill with many hot spots, all with sore feet and probably 26km down on this beautiful Thursday, an Italian family looked at us and screamed, "No mochilos, no mochilos, no es pilgrims, no camino!" We have vehicle help and do not carry all of our luggage.

I understand that there are many people on this trail and on this journey who believe that only real pilgrims carry their own packs and sleep in Albergues. But why? As the Italians began cursing me, although I am sure they were in a way joking with us, with lots of truth behind what they were saying, how could it be in the pilgrim spirit to judge others? What makes one person´s journey better or more justified than someone else´s journey?

All of us were still in good spirits. Even a bunch of high school students understand that people only say things such as that to make themselves better, but I wish I hadn´t heard it none the less. Apparently a German pilgrim had told a few others in our group they weren´t real pilgrims. By the end of the day we had hiked 70 kilometers in three days and I was beginning to feel as a pilgrim. Many songs, jokes, and improve raps had kept our spirits high and the pilgrim bond between our group was beginning to pull each other through. I honestly believe at the end of the first day that several pilgrims in our group wouldn´t make it, but by the end of the day, I am sure, baring no major catastrophes, that our group will finish in Santiago by Saturday afternoon.

Portomarin - Palas de Rei

I had the opportunity to be the lead hiker today. The whole experience is radically different. The Camino is well marked with yellow arrows on buildings and the ground and scallop shell markers yet I still find myself doubting the markers from time to time and wondering if I have stumbled off the beaten path. I am one of those who often questions if I really have my wallet or I wonder if I have left the stove on. I question my own judgment all of the time, yet usually I use very good judgment. In fact, I have a great sense of direction and rarely get lost. I suspect things would be different if I had been hiking from the border of France for a month. My ability to trust the markers and the path of others would be greater but with each step and with each new marker I grow.

When I leave my home, I will probably continue to worry about the oven and the lights, but I hope that I am learning something more important than just about hiking. I am hoping that I am learning the importance of those who come before me to mark the trail and the path which I am on. It is not by myself that I have made it to this spot, but because of the help of others.

And even though we left a good hour and a half earlier today, we are still not making it to the end until 4pm. Our guide Debbie told us that their is a good chance we will all cry when we get to Santiago. My legs are beginning to really hurt. Could she be right? Our whole group of twenty moved much slower but everyone of made it the full 25.06km and the two who really struggled yesterday began to work unbelievably hard and rally together. I could not have been happier to make it all the Palas de Rei and although the church with the Frescos was closed by the time we arrived, everyone of us was two tired to be disappointed. Tomorrow will be our longest day and the rest is needed.

Sarria to Portomarin

I am in pretty good shape. I workout several times a week, recently ran a marathon, and have been expecting twenty to thirty kilometers a day to be pretty easy. We started out quite a bit later than we expected having a little bank trouble and finally hit the road by 10:15am.
About noon we came across a truly beautiful 12th century church, te Church of Barbadelo. Pilgrims at this point who we had seen on the path had gotten out to a late start and all bypassed this church, so we walked in, and were completely alone. Our feet were yet to begin hurting and everyone felt drawn to the peace, quiet, and beauty of this wonderful church. Yet we knew we were behind and needed to keep a stride to make it to Portomarin by four in the afternoon.

Most everyone in our group was able to keep a good pace but by two in the afternoon, we had a few who were moving at a much slower speed than I wanted to keep. By this time our group had spread out. I decided to keep the group together by staying the back and found myself walking much slower than I wanted. I keep reminding myself to be loving and sympathetic but I was becoming frustrated. I know deep down that it is not about my pace, and this is not my time to enjoy being alone, yet I have to keep myself going with this mantra: "Jesus, help me love others!" It sounds simple, but it so easy for me to forget to lend a helping hand when others struggle. Is today about helping me slow down? Am I learning that my time is not always God´s time and helping others is for more important that helping myself? By 4pm we finally arrive in Portomarin almost an hour behind the others and cross the scenic bridge into the old town. Those who have been struggling seem happier than ever to have arrived at our hotel 22.75km later and more satisfied than myself, which in a way is a true blessing and gift. At the end of the day, hearing the sense of accomplishment of everyone is teaching me that pace is not imporant but the way we help others is.

A Scallop Shell

I arrived with nineteen others to Spain yesterday. We are here to hike the last one hundred fifteen Km from Sarria to Santiago de Compostela, a famous pilgrimage hiked by tens of thousands every summer on the way to see the bones of St. James and follow in the footsteps of millions of others who are all on a journey for some personal reason, many of which are spiritual. I have been struggling to figure out myself why I am here and why I feel called to this walk. I hope I have a better idea in five days time but know that it could be revealed to me much later if ever.

We pilgrims hike with scallop shells around our necks. The scallop shell is the symbol of the pilgrims on the way to Santiago and we are beginning to see the shells. I knew the shells were used to drink water for thirsty pilgrims but what I didn't know was the greater metaphor of the shell. A scallop shell has many lines that all lead to the same center just as many roads and many pilgrims travel from all over, all on the way to Santiago. Some come from their homes in Norway or Italy and hike from their doorsteps. Some hike along the route in Portugal. More start in France and many take different paths yet they all end in the same place. Am I to learn this pilgrimage that my way is not the only way? Am I to become more sympathetic, compassionate and understanding of the different ways and paths in life?

A Thin Place

As soon as I walked into the sanctuary of Christ Church in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, I felt I was in a “thin place.” A “thin place” comes from Celtic spirituality and is a place where you are closest to God. The idea of a thin place is that the veil between this world and the other world is thin. The structure of Christ Church was destroyed and all that is left today of the physical plant is the original bell tower. In place of the old church stands an air-conditioned Quonset hut and the original concrete floor. The inside of the church reminds me of a down comforter. One of the original stain glass windows rests upon the only window in the hut. Besides that, there is very little to decorate the church. Instead of pews, there are fold up metal chairs and instead of an organ, there is a PA system and an electronic keyboard.

Yet as soon as walked into this church, I felt I was in one of my own “thin places.” Goosebumps came over me and I started to tear up as I sat down in the church. Almost every spiritual home I have stepped foot in before has been in some way or another very elaborate. So I was surprised to feel this way in an air-conditioned Quonset hut.

I wonder sometimes if I fail to be connected with God in a world filled with accessories. My experience traveling to Christ Church continues to reaffirm that my God doesn’t need all of the lavish and ornate decorations, the old buildings, and fancy pews. When we strip off all of the decorations in life, and are left with nothing but what is underneath, raw, uncovered, we have God. I have spent the majority of my adult life acquiring things, goods, status, and of course money. Yet I am reminded today as I reflect on my time in Mississippi, that it is underneath all of this that I connect with Christ. Do I really need the big screen TV, the art, the Wii, the Vineyard Vines bow ties, or could I do without?