Sunday June 2, 2019

Santiago de Compostela, Spain; 16,222 steps

Proverbs 18 

v. 10  The name of the Lord is like a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.  We walked safely in the strength of the Lord once again on the journey to Santiago de Compostela, but it wasn’t just the Lord God himself who was the strong tower.  People he sends and those who serve in his name are also a safe haven for the people of God.  Albergues along the Way were originally begun to provide rest and sustenance for pilgrims on their spiritual journey, and still today they serve those who travel the Way.  And when you’re walking, sometimes your prayers are answered by people sent by God that you “happen” to meet.  God is able to use even those who don’t know him, “for everything in heaven and on earth is [his]” (1 Chronicles 29:11).  Thank you, Lord, for your strength along our pilgrimage.  Thank you that we are safe in you forever.

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At nine I was off to find the Church of England service at the church of Santa Susanna, in the park where we had walked into town, on the opposite side of the city from our hotel.  There was no sign of the church.  I wandered a bit then asked a random passing man, who turned around and walked me there.  It was behind the carnival currently occupying the center of the park.  “Church closed,” he said.  “No,” I said.  “Culto in inglese.”  He just shrugged as I thanked him.  Inside the decaying little church, bare except for the OTT sculpted and gilded altar wall, a small group was gathered at the front for morning prayer, including one woman who had just walked into Santiago on the Via de la Plata, Faith’s family of six, and Graham from yesterday’s discussion group.  The service was led by Sybille (originally from Germany but she hadn’t lived there for twenty years, she told someone later) who, with the passing of a candle, provided time for each person present who desired to pray about anything related to their Caminos.  Many mentioned loved ones who were unable to make the journey.  Afterward some of the group adjourned to a cafe, where I met four Dubliners who together walk part of the Camino one week a year, and a woman who walked her first Camino in 1974.  She had a crazy college professor who had researched the Camino and wanted to do it, she told us.  He took seven students and a support car.  The route was unmarked.  For credit the college required a library so in the car was a cardboard box holding eight books.  Compostelas were awarded even then (108 were given out in 1974) but the officials didn’t believe the group had walked all the way from St. Jean Pied de Port in France, so they proved it by developing their film and showing the pictures.

I met up with Maurice in front of the cathedral and we set off for our next service.  In a small square we stopped to watch what a banner announced as a “Gran Missión en las Plazas.”  A little stage was set up and guitarists were leading a group in hearty singing.  Soon they formed a circle and began to dance too, a circle dance, young and old, all singing praise to God.  It was enchanting.  May God bless their mission.

As we watched the mission I thought I recognized someone sitting near us. It was Anna from Dresden! We exchanged a quick hello and goodbye.

Our destination was San Agustín, where I had met the organist John after our previous Camino (here).  This Sunday John had arranged for an Irish male choir to visit and sing during the worship service.  The cantor Stephen, whom we had also met, had just arrived in town too.  It was a pleasure to see the Scottish musicians again, even briefly, and the Irish choir of course was wonderful.

Maurice and I adjourned to a sidewalk cerveceria on the mostly pedestrian Rua Nova and settled at a table under an umbrella.  The arched colonnade across the street provided a serene backdrop for the passing world—young people with colorful tresses, fashionistas with dangerously high shoes to fall off and break an ankle on the cobblestones (but none did), elderly couples holding each other up, lots of fathers pushing baby carriages, people in conversation with their companions or on their phones, always smokers, and a little tan and white mop of a dog in the doorway opposite us that adorably invited and received petting from passersby, except for the old man with a cane who gave it a swift kick.

From our seats in the shade we ordered big goblets of fruity red sangria, then Maurice selected a salad and I got a plate of Padrón peppers roasted to perfection.  After we finished eating I pulled another plastic chair close and put my feet up.  We sipped and sat, watching the people, the mop dog, the scavenging pigeons, the shifting shadows of the hot afternoon sun.  I didn’t want to leave.  It was one of the few times I’ve just sat at length without feeling guilty about not doing something.  I guess walking 260 kilometers will do that for you.

At our church at home we are learning to join Jesus on his mission of bringing saving hope, providing soul-satisfying purpose and reconciling the world to himself.  Wherever we see need, there is our Lord at work, and right there we are invited to join him.  The first step is just meeting people, interacting with them, getting to know them, enjoying them.  The Camino is a perfect place for that.  People from all over the world set aside their ordinary lives and come together to walk.  We learned on our first Camino that many people are looking for something—they just don’t know exactly what.  They may desire deeper meaning behind the routine and expectations of life, or need direction in difficulty, or want real answers to life’s hard questions.  They are hungry for God and their hearts are open.  They usually don’t realize they need what only Jesus can give.  On this Camino I learned that people are also looking for authentic community.  Amid all their digital connectivity they live in shallow relationships, with not enough time or trust to pursue more depth.  Along the Camino, side by side on the path, empty hours unrolling before them, they willingly reveal themselves to others both strangers and foreigners and graciously receive the secrets of their companions.  Station in life doesn’t matter.  To my continuing surprise, age doesn’t matter, as young people shared their stories with us and listened to our words.  At the Pilgrim House Camino debrief, German Hannah almost cried as she described how she would miss the briefly known yet true camaraderie developed along the Way, and others agreed.  This longed-for authentic community can be a gift of the Church.  When we know we are loved, forgiven and fully accepted by Jesus, we have a solid basis for relating to others the same way.  We can live with grace, reveal our broken selves, speak with truth and grow our relationships deep.  What many pilgrims long for and glimpsed along the Camino is available in their everyday lives too through a trusting relationship with Jesus and fellowship in his church.  Could we bring a taste of the acceptance and love of the church of Jesus to those we walked and talked with?  I wanted to.  Did we?  I don’t know.  I pray that we did.

And what did I learn personally on this Camino?  I feel like I learned my main Camino lessons on our 2016 trek (here), yet this time along the Way the Lord highlighted a number of interactions with people—my Camino community—that brought instruction and delightful blessing.  For my learning and enjoyment I thank them all, and in particular the following:

• Bruno—I used all the words you taught me, and especially had fun with dolorosa when I asked for the bill for dinner.
• Luis—I (almost) always got a regular glass of water with my meal.
• Portuguese Fernanda!  The blessings provided to hundreds of pilgrims every year by your donativo hospitality of opening your home to pilgrims, feeding them, getting them to know one another and dancing in the kitchen are incalculable!  Thank you from all of us.
• Raik—I will not prejudge all young German men as thoughtless beer swillers (aka lager louts).
• Gisela—now that I know how, I have lots of fun checking the stats on my phone to see how many flights of stairs I’ve climbed.
• Alfonso and Debee—I am inspired afresh by your true Christian love and your servant hearts.
• And to the Portuguese people, thank you for coming to my rescue, sometimes even before I asked, when I was going the wrong way or looking at a map wondering which way to go at all.

Santiago de Compostela is about a hundred kilometers from the Atlantic coast.  Many pilgrims don’t feel their journey is complete until they put their packs back on and walk another three or four days to Finisterre, the end of the world.  Some that are finished with walking take a bus.  You can sit on the rocks at Finisterre overlooking the ocean where, as they say, the next parish over is Boston.  I imagine that looking and thinking in the windy blue could be a fitting end to a Camino.  Supposedly pilgrims in ancient times burned their walking clothes on the beach there, though how they got new ones for the trip home I don’t know. 

Maurice and I have not (yet) felt a need to go to Finisterre.  From among the members of our pilgrim Whatsapp group organized at Casa Fernanda, only Raik went all the way to Finisterre.  He still had his heart with him.