I love writing in this blog and sending photos but I cannot respond to any of your comments. I don’t even know who is writing or even reading unless they mention it. Even if everyone did, I still can’t respond without the response appearing so that everyone can read it.
I just want you all to know I deeply appreciate your reading the posts. The various comments have been very kind and supportive of this journey. Thank you all so much. The solitude on this Camino has allowed me to pray and reflect. I hardly see any pilgrims and most of cafes and restaurants are closed until April. The ability to pray with few distractions and lots of solitude is a gift to be treasured.
My physical difficulties are getting much better as my body and muscles are getting readjusted to movement and backpack. I’m using muscles I haven’t used in 8 years!!!! Im getting excited because in a few days I will arrive in Leon, a magnificent city with a most beautiful cathedral. I’m staying in a very nice place for two nights. Those muscles need some rest!
I’m praying for you all. Can’t wait to return: First Sunday of Advent!!!
A tough and challenging question that Jesus asks in so many words in today’s gospel. He lays it on the line in stark terms: hating family members, taking up your cross, renouncing all your possessions. Wow! He reminds us not even to start something you can’t finish or follow through.
I guess it’s something like deciding on walking the Camino. I had to first consider if I could handle the lengthy pilgrimage physically, emotionally; if I had enough energy; who will say the masses?; do I have enough time?; money?
For 4-5 weeks I’ve given up my possessions, I’ve carried the cross of this pilgrimage, I have given up family and friends, making Christ the focus of the journey and companionship, letting go of being in control.
But I’m only doing this for 4-5 weeks. Jesus seems to be saying to me that He wants ALL of me ALL the time. Nothing and no one can become the center of my life, neither possessions not loved ones. And I must accept whatever cross is given to me. Jesus is asking me to first accept the cost and then follow, never looking back.
He is asking you the very same reality. But we are in this together.
As I entered a tiny village, an elderly nun wearing a short veil approached me. She was determined to engage me, for she spoke, in Spanish, a lot of words I didn’t understand but I finally understood her to ask me where I was from. Her demeanor was so kind and even funny. When I asked in broken Spanish how many nuns there were in her Community, she responded eleven. And then she made gestures indicating that many weren’t doing well mentally. How she let me know they were most likely suffering from dementia was ironically so funny.
When I was ready to keep walking, she motioned for me to follow her to a tiny chapel a ways down. We got there, she retrieved a key from her pocket and opened the door to the chapel which was beautiful. Then she looked at me and put her hands on my head saying she wanted to bless me!!!
And indeed she did!!! A very lengthy one, asking Christ to be with me and guide me. She ended the blessing by giving me a Miraculous Medal on a leather cord that she placed around my neck. I’ve never been blessed by a nun… ever. It was moving and left me with the strength to carry on.
SHE opened the little church; SHE welcomed me; SHE blessed me. In the gospel Jesus teaches us to be like this nun: welcoming, engaging, blessing people. In the story Jesus told, a man gave a large dinner and invited many. But a large number of those invited made excuses why they couldn’t go. So he asked his servants to invite the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame. He wanted his “home” filled to capacity.
We all have excuses why we delay in following the Lord‘s many invitations in nourishing our lives with the bread of mercy, forgiveness, serving in some way, helping to fill the house of the church. What might your excuse be?
Several posts ago I wrote a post about getting lost but titled it, “Gethsemene.” The post had nothing to do with Gethsemene. This is the actual post for Gethsemene. I had two different thoughts for that day, getting lost and Gethsemene. This is Gethsemene, a deeply personal moment of transfiguration.
I found myself lost because I saw what appeared to be several olive trees. Fascinated, I walked into this area and saw hundreds of olive trees surrounding me. I immediately thought of Jesus, praying with his disciples the night before he died in the very Garden of Gethsemene. Jesus was filled with fear and asked that the cup of suffering be taken from him, but only if it were the will of the Father. It wasn’t. Jesus embraced the Cup. I could feel his anxiety, no his ANGUISH, as his sweat became blood, dropping on the ground. (Luke’s Gospel) Being surrounded by these olive trees evoked that moment of reckoning for Jesus that began his Passion.
Within an hour of this experience, I found myself in the remnants of a church over 800 years old. Inside was a chapel with a most beautiful image of our Lord crucified. A kind and gentle elderly woman, a sort of docent, brought me up to this wooden crucifix and explained that it was from the 12th century… a work of absolute beauty. It mesmerized me, in a strange way, for I felt peace. The woman pointed to the face of Jesus and said His bowed head was filled with tranquility, kindness, gentleness. She so beautifully that we usually see a tormented face of Christ on the Cross. But not in this magnificent wooden sculpture.
Her words of explanation I will never forget. In one day, I experienced two juxtaposing images of Christ during his passion: a tortured face in Gethsemene and a peaceful face on the Cross. This experience, in the midst of getting lost, haunted me in a most striking way. It continues to do so. Christ embraced the Cup of suffering which became the Cup of our salvation. Amazing!!!!!
We all go through experiences of Gethsemene, horribly painful, not wanting to ACCEPT the Cup of suffering. It can feel as though you are “sweating blood.” Seeing someone suffering so that you, yourself suffer, the pain of loneliness, betrayal, your own illness, chronic depression are all moments in Gethsemene.
It’s when we ACCEPT them, live through them, that a peaceful tranquility takes hold of our hearts. The realities may still be there, but peace has dissolved despair. Hope rises with Christ as we emerge from the Garden of Gethsemene into a Garden of Hope…awaiting a glorious Resurrection with Christ. I am still walking a bit off the ground, even as my body groans. My heart is bursting with joy.
I stopped in a tiny little village, San Juan Ortega, getting closer to Burgos, Spain. There was only one Bar that served a few selections and no other shops, not even a pharmacy. I went into get some supper and was seated with a man from London. Our conversation became quite serious and interesting. He told me he was doing the Camino in three stages.
He asked about the second stage, beginning after Burgos called the Meseta, 200 miles of flat, dull territory. Most pilgrims dread it, even go so far as taking a bus to Leon or biking it after shipping their pack. I love walking the Meseta, which surprised him. He asked me what I did with all that dull time and few pilgrims. I told him I reflected and prayed.
He immediately said, “You must be a priest.” I said that I was and asked him why he thought I was a priest. He responded, “Because you mentioned that you pray.” From here on the conversation went from why he despised religion, which tried to control people, encouraged idol worship, resorted to superstitious thinking and was all about money.
I just listened and said I thought I knew where’d he was coming from and some of what he said resonated with me. “Aren’t you shocked or put off by my beliefs?” he asked. I told him absolutely not, that our conversation helped me to see another person’s point of view, with which I have many disagreements, but we are all good people, loved by God, whether you like it or not.
He asked me about my faith and what it gave me, since religion is largely for those with little education, easy to manipulate. I spoke about the many people I have encountered, rich and poor, and discovered that some of the most intelligent people I have encountered are those who suffered poverty and racism. He was clearly taken aback. I simply challenged his unfortunate stereotypes.
We talked for some time about his life, including a great marriage, 5 children and countless grandchildren. He turned 75 years old. I said his family was lucky to have him. As I got up, I went into my pocket and retrieved some money for both our meals. I wanted to treat.
With quite a stern sounding voice, he said, “No, take your money. I really want to pay for your meal. It would mean much to me.” I accepted , shook hands with Donald, and told him how much I loved our conversation. And that I would pray for him and his family. A huge smile filled his face.
Two pilgrims, sharing a meal, discussing faith and God and religion with all its pitfalls, on All Saints Day. Wonderful things happen at meals.
Why do people, particularly Christians, shy away from talking about, let alone thinking, about death? We find it depressing, we who believe, or say we believe, in the Resurrection of the Dead. It’s not that there are two constant realities in life: taxes and death. That IS rather grim and depressing. The one constant in life is a life, a continuation of this life, into a new, transformed life.
Hope is the virtue that pulls, sometimes pushes, us forward, allowing GRACE to be poured into our hearts, giving us the greatest gift of all: the faith to see death simply as a gateway we walk through. What awaits us? Actually, a better question: WHO awaits us?
Christ, His Mother, who lead us into the very dwelling place that was prepared for us before we were even a glee in our parents’ eyes. What a glee it was!!! This dwelling place unites us with all those who have walked through that door. THEY, our lived ones, are waiting with open arms, open hearts, and a table waiting for us come to and eat, share, and let the memories flow like lucious wine, aged in eternity.
On the All Souls Day, I am now saying Mass for your loved ones who are waiting. In the meantime and in between time we are here, on the other side of the door. Our journey must continue with JOY because we know what awaits us.
Eternal rest grant unto them Oh Lord, and let your perpetual light shine upon them…and us.
Walking on Camino I passed a monument in honor of the 300 people who were violently killed as they tried to challenge the oppressive regime of Franco. You literally walk next to and over the burial site of thee martyrs for justice. Deeply moving experience to realize how one human being can cause so much violence and oppression.
Fascism is a word we use quite freely these days and I’m not certain the use of the word to describe current political realities is helping. I admit my understanding is limited, but fascism in Spain seems to center on a military dictatorship in which all power centered on one, primary military figure who wields absolute power. The nazi’s and fascist’s were united in an ideology in which one person demands total allegiance. The military is used to stop or prevent through oppression and control any potential coup. The Spanish civil war and growth of fascism has rooted in the 19th century, culminating with General Franco.
When I stood there at the monument, a number of people came by and paid homage to these individuals killed so mercilessly. The politics of any age can cause so much violence and oppression, when power and authority become an idol, localized in one person or party, that refuses dissent or disagreement in any form whatsoever.
On this Feast of All Saints, we remember the countless canonized saints who gave their lives due to the violence of fascism, dictatorships, monarchies, emperors and empires. Think of all the uncanonized saints who are martyrs.
As we look at Jesus, crucified so cruelly and publicly, we gaze at the ULTIMATE MARTYR, whose death planted the seed of governance rooted in the absolute dignity of each and every human being, the ability to form communities of culture and support, being free to express your identity and use your gifts, the right to work and create a life with family and significant others, caring for God’s beautiful Creation and the right to freely worship God and practice your choice of religion. Belief in God or practice of religion can never, ever be forced.
Jesús was killed trying to remove that which divides us into tribes of division. He preached a Kingdom rooted in his love and gospel that unites us into a people rich in texture, color, language and religious culture. The Saints witness with their very lives that this vision of Christ’s can be a lived reality.
It’s Halloween and the walk is going ok. But unfortunately, a fellow pilgrim on the Camino died of a heart attack yesterday. Yes, people die on the Camino, since having a heart attack makes it a near certainty that the person will die, given the amount of time it takes for help to arrive. The person, named Michael, collapsed in the village of O’Cebreiro, one of my favorite places on the Camino. An emergency helicopter arrived but it was too late. CPR was tried but unsuccessful.
I always joked I wouldn’t mind dying on The Camino, what a way to go!! All the comments on the Camino blog said the same thing, that it was a beautiful way to die. Michael’s partner agreed that despite the suddenness of his passing and the horrible grieving that awaits loved ones, he died doing what he loved.
I hope I make it to O’Cebreiro which is two weeks away, so I can honor my fellow pilgrim Michael.
Right now, after eating lots of candy I just purchased in honor of Halloween, I am thinking about life’s “thin places,” experiences that come on in an instant, lifting the veil that separates us from God and the world beyond our sight. Transcendence: something outside of ourselves overshadows us, unlocking a forgotten memory, carrying us over a threshold beyond our everyday life. For me, the corner of Dayton and Dickens, just a few blocked from the rectory, is a beautiful “thin place,” the three story building on the corner is where my mom, aunt, uncle and grandparents lived in the 1930’s and 40’s standing their I am transported by memories that keep giving me hope. My ancestors, my family… they are alive!!! They are with me, but not visible. But they are definitely alive and well.
Halloween originated in a world that believed an invisible wall or barrier existed, that separates this world of ours with the world beyond sight. On this one day, Halloween, that barrier dissolved, allowing the spirits to make their presence felt. Putting on a costume allowed you to hide your true identity, making it impossible for the spirit of a dead person who didn’t like you for whatever you did to him when he was still alive, to recognize you.
This is the ultimate “thin place,” this time of Halloween, because we celebrate the ways we can be open to experiences that transport us over the threshold between the visible and invisible….everyday!!! The spirits of the dead return and are given freedom to interact with us in ways beyond our control or manipulation. We are NOT communing with the dead!! We experience their presence in ways that God wishes. We pray to them and with them, but there presence remains in mystery.
On this journey, I have had a few experiences in which loved ones in my life who have passed away made their presence felt to me as I was walking. I didn’t need a costume because I am loved by my parents, grandparents, friends, they WANT me to feel their presence and accept my love, my apologies, my forgiveness. I want to be recognized by them and I want to recognize the ways God is bringing them to me. These are moments, experiences, of “thin places,” that leave us as quickly as they come.
And so this painful journey has been made easier, even joyful, as I was enveloped by unseen presences made present in an instant. Yesterday, Michael, the pilgrim, crossed the ultimate threshold in this life, making his destination, not Santiago, but Paradise.
I got lost TWICE in one day! It is easy to miss one of the markers of the Camino: a painted yellow arrow on a tree, a lamp post, on a road sign; a bronze like shell embedded in the road; or a blue sign with a white shell in the back ground and a black image of a pilgrim.
When you are completely alone, in a foreign country with limited language ability, it can be quite frightening. A few blog posts ago I wrote about reading the signs of the times. I need to remember to read the physical signs of the Camino giving me direction. One other time, the same day, a pilgrim riding his bike to Santiago stoped and yelled at me saying I was going down the wrong path. He pointed to one of the arrows painted on the road AND a small blue sign. How thoughtful, one pilgrim taking care of another. If I didn’t hear him that would have made getting lost three times!
Jesús teaches us in today’s gospel that the Kingdom is like a tiny mustard that grows into a huge tree giving shelter for the birds. Tiny seeds of kindness planted in the heart can gradually transform a challenging Camino into a journey of inner transformation.
The physical makeup of the Camino trail is a reflection of the many aspects that make up our characters. Life is not just a straight, smooth journey , unless you plan for it to be so. You can live a life that is protected and shielded from surprise and risk. And the journey becomes a calculation that you control so that everything goes “as planned.”
Pilgrimages free one from such a way of living, allowing one to let go and be surprised by unexpected happenings, unplanned surprises, new encounters. Your inner “terrains” surface new territories that create new challenges, pushing inner boundaries further from view. Your vision gradually changes, even “sharpens” as you climb up struggles, as your veer to one side or the other to avoid pitfalls, as you slow down exhilaration so you don’t lose balance.
The varied terrains of the Camino visibly express the twists and turns, the ups and downs, the messiness, the setbacks, the barriers, the rough patches, and even the smooth sailing on “level ground.” But these various terrains can only surface when we choose a different road or path that will involve climbing upward, changing pace, facing hurtles, dealing with “blisters” of fear and the “fractures” of painful memories. As unexplored, inner realities are allowed to surface, the path becomes more difficult.
But making it up the hill leads to a summit, a new inner freedom to “see” the world, your heart, in a broadened way. Healing…. freeing….peace… and you begin to move on, continuing to let go of the need to control the journey. You allow yourself to surrender to the Spirit of Christ who sends his angels to “lift you up, lest you dash your foot against the stone.”
Fr. Frank's Camino de Santiago 