Our Rector, The Rev. John A. Mennell, departed St. Luke’s on Tuesday, September 17, for a 500+ mile pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago. He will return in early November and be back in the pulpit on November 10. John’s posts will appear here on a regular basis for those who would like to follow along. The most recent posts are at the top of the page. Learn more about this pilgrimage at the bottom of the page.
In the Beginning
Camino Day 39 – October 30
I finally arrived in Santiago de Compostela after walking for more than a month. It was an epic and sometimes painful journey. I remember the tear-filled exhausted jubilation of my arrival seven years ago. This arrival was strangely anticlimactic.
This pilgrimage was my last “planned” act of mourning in the 13 months since Sonia’s death. I have felt the changing weight of her loss and the promise of the future with each step. I know there will be more tears ahead that will arrive unexpectedly and profoundly. Even knowing that, I feel a sense of completeness having made it through so many “firsts” and more.
This pilgrimage was decidedly more. It was more than I could have hoped for in feeling God’s powerful presence with time and space to reflect. The most enlightening signs of God’s grace were eleven different rainbows on ten different days. Rainbows are a promise of God’s hope that I will forever associate with Sonia. Each rainbow seemed to have some particular and perfectly timed meaning inviting me into what is next.
The abundant signs of hope may well be the reason my arrival in Santiago was anticlimactic. My arrival was clearly not the end of the journey. It is a new beginning. God is always inviting us to a fresh start, regardless of where we have been. The first words of the Bible and my favorite Gospel are the same: “In the beginning…” Perhaps that is where we always are with God — at the beginning of something new. We may feel like we have come to the end of something, but we are really at the start of something more.
When I look back at the last year and this pilgrimage, they were both filled with expected tears, but what resonates more are the abundant joys. In the last year I know I messed some things up in my emotional turmoil, but I have seen God’s love poured out in abundance. The love I have been shown and the joys I have shared are a hope-filled foundation for whatever is next. With God we are always at the beginning, and what lies ahead is more than we can ask or imagine.
O Pedrouzo to Santiago de Compostela
19.2 km/12.0 miles 34,234 Steps
Total: 826 km /513 miles 1,297,123 Steps
I Would Walk 500 Miles
Camino Day 38 – October 29
In their 1988 song “I’m Gonna Be,” the Proclaimers said
“I would walk 500 miles,
and I would walk 500 more.”
and I would walk 500 more.”
Having just walked 500 miles, and delighting in that time and space to feel the nearness of God, I would gladly walk 500 more to see what I’m gonna be next. Our journey through life, however many miles it may be, is an adventure in seeing what we are going to be.
While the song is presumably a love song, the title seems equally applicable to the pilgrimage through life on which we all embark. “I’m gonna be” — whether followed by an ellipses or a question mark invites us into an unknown where we always have the chance to be something more, especially if we walk with God. Whether we walk 500 miles or take five steps we are all on a journey of becoming. I’m gonna be something else as I walk with God.
If we orient ourselves toward God on our pilgrimage through life, we have a better chance to grow into “our full stature in Christ” as it says in Ephesians 4:13. I don’t think that stature is a destination as much as an invitation to be something more. We may never achieve that full stature in this world because as we walk with God we always have the chance to be something more.
This something more is not a threat, but an opportunity. God doesn’t want to challenge us or make our life more difficult for the sake of the struggle, but if we are not growing, we are dying. Fully living is more about becoming than being. Certainly God loves us for just being, but we can love ourselves in the becoming. We can love others as we are becoming. We can better love God when we are becoming something new.
Whatever answers I have gleaned from this pilgrimage of becoming will hopefully be a foundation for whatever is next. God is never finished with us, and we should never think we are done with God. When we walk with God, all we can know is I’m gonna be… What that is is what we are becoming.
Arzúa to O Pedrouzo
19.5 km/12.1 miles 27,812 Steps
Total: 806.9 km /501.1 miles 1,257,598 Steps
Abundance and More
Camino Day 37 – October 28
I sometimes think I could have survived this entire journey just by picking fruits and vegetables from what was growing beside the road. Unfortunately I have no pictures that do justice to the apples, pears, oranges, lemons, pecans, walnuts, chestnuts, raspberries, figs, and more that lined my path. The trees were there and the overripe fruits and nuts that fell from the trees often covered the roads I was on making for crunchy or slippery footing.
I really think I could have survived simply by grabbing what God was offering along the way. Of course, I am too particular in my wants, and just not in the mood for figs sometimes. Had I been in the mood for figs, every single day, I would have been well fed. It is like the story of the manna from heaven — we complain to God about what we don’t have have and overlook what is right in front of us. What is right in front of us is usually more than we will ever need.
We are so good at seeing scarcity when we are surrounded by abundance. If we don’t see or have what we want at that particular moment, we get so fixated on what is not there, that we deny ourselves the opportunity to be grateful for what is there. Part of the beauty of a pilgrimage is the challenge to rid ourselves of some of the creature comforts to which we are accustomed. I will admit that I have somehow managed to sleep without my three different carefully curated pillows that are on my bed at home. Who knew that sleep was even possible without these basic necessities?
The wonder of God’s abundance is that it is always with us. Sometimes the gift of stepping out of our regular routines is the chance to see the abundance in new ways. We get accustomed and almost bored with what we have. Our insatiable human desires leave us longing for that which we think we want, even if it is something we don’t really need. I see the pilgrimage that we are all on as an opportunity to be grateful for the abundance and beauty that is always near.
Sobrado dos Moxes to Arzúa
21.9 km/13.6 miles 33,919 Steps
Total: 787.5 km /489.0 miles 1,229,786 Steps
The Walls Echoed Prayers
Camino Day 36 – October 27
Spanish churches are characteristically ornate. It seems as though every square inch of even the smallest church is filled with sculptures, paintings, and color. There is a flair to the dramatic, usually leaving Jesus covered in blood. Some are very beautiful, and some seem a bit cartoonish, but all colorful and ornate.
Today I got to visit my favorite church in Spain. It is none of those things. It is not colorful and has no decoration beyond the stone walls. It is the main church at the Sobrado Abbey, a Cistercian Monastery with roots back to the 10th century when it was founded by Bishop Sisnado Menendez and his wife (yes, this was the norm in the Catholic Church until 1139). The church was built mostly in the 17th century. In 1835, during a Spanish civil war, all monasteries were dissolved and the assets taken by the government. The church was stripped down to its bare stone walls and the rest of the monastery fell into disrepair. It would be more than 100 years before the Cistercians returned to restart the abbey.
The church now has a simple wooden pews and a stone altar with nothing but bare walls behind it. There is no decoration other than what was carved into the granite stones 400 years ago. There is no sound system, lighting or electricity. Yet when you pray in that space, and even whisper prayers, it is electric. The sound bounces off the cavernous stone walls that long for the familiar prayers they have always known. If you are the only human being in the space, you are not alone. The stones beg you to pray, so I did.
I spent several hours in the church, mostly alone. I read John’s gospel. I sang some Taize chants and prayed a rosary as the walls echoed and amplified my prayers.
Even without the adornment, the church is stunningly beautiful and the space extraordinarily thin. God feels so close here. The space is a reminder for me of the importance of a solid foundation in our faith — one that cannot be destroyed by political whims. One that does not need any extra ornamentation. One that only needs our hope-filled prayers.
Roxica to Sobrado dos Moxes
15.2 km/9.5 miles 25,245 Steps
Total: 765.5 km /475.4 miles 1,195,867 Steps
A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss
Camino Day 35 – October 26
As I have rolled (or strolled) through Spain, I have seen the wonders of God’s creation, both in stunning landscapes and nearby wonders. Today was spent mostly on country paths with weather that got increasingly damp as the day wore on. Many of the paths cut through wooded areas. The paths were often lined with stone walls and eucalyptus trees. Every now and then we would come upon a building — many of the stone — probably centuries old.
Whether it was the aging slate roof covering an old farm building, or a crumbling stone wall, it seemed that everything was covered in moss. There were some different types of moss, and I don’t purport to be a bryologist (people who have an active interest in observing, recording, classifying or researching byophytes like mosses — don’t be impressed, I googled it), but they were stunning in their ability to transform stone and bring life to inanimate objects.
The moss was stunningly beautiful and diverse. It spread out in different shapes and glowed an almost fluorescent green on a gray misty day. The moss transformed how things felt. The rocks were alive and soft, which are not typical descriptions for stones.
I wondered how long those stones and slates had been in that same place to gather such a thick and lush coating of life. I wondered how long we had to stay with God, so our hard edges and lifeless bits could be brought to life by the God of creation.
I know I made this observation while moving along the path, but for me, walking is staying with God. Our bodies do not need to be stationary for our souls and minds to rest in God. We certainly can’t be changed by God if we try to run away, but we can if we are constantly orienting ourselves to the divine, or at least trying.
If we are not a rolling stone, and we sit with God we are softened. We are changed into something almost unrecognizable in the beauty that is created. We become the host for life and are given life just by being. The moss-lined paths were another soft invitation to be with God.
Baamonde to Roxica
25.0 km/15.5 miles 29,750 Steps
Total: 750.3 km /465.9 miles 1,170,622 Steps
Many Paths, One Journey
Camino Day 34 – October 25
The Camino de Santiago is an ever changing set of linked paths leading to Santiago de Compestela. There are many routes, but even on the one I have chosen, I have walked varied wonders and challenges from busy highways, old mining tunnels, seaside cliffs, rolling farmlands, beaches, muddy trails, rocky climbs, wooded arches, quiet streets, and more.
Sometimes I wish a particular path would never end while other times the section seems interminable. When surrounded by stunning beauty or peaceful quiet we want to stay in that place of enchantment. When the path is hard because of difficult terrain or other challenges, it sometimes seems like it will go on forever.
I feel like the different paths on this journey are a lesson in themselves. Perhaps a pilgrimage is just a microcosm of our lives that can teach us better how to live in the present. When we walk our journey through life we find ourselves on many different paths. The situations we find ourselves in are constantly changing. Some are so glorious that we hope they will never end. Others are so painful and difficult we feel like they will never end. They will. Things will change.
As I have taken pictures of some of the paths along the Camino, I realize few of them let you look very far into the distance. There is always a turn ahead. There will always be something new around the corner. We can choose to be disappointed that the beauty will end, or we can enjoy it for all that it is. On the difficult parts we can feel cursed or put upon, or we can trust that this too will become something better, easier, more manageable, or more beautiful.
Our one journey invites us to be present to what is before us, knowing that it will not always be the same. The varied paths that we will inevitably travel each give us an opportunity to turn to God. Rather than hope the beautiful, easy road will never end, it is opportunity to give thanks to God for the wonders that surround us. Rather than bemoan our existence in the difficult times, we can trust that God is with us as God always is, and this too will change.
Vilalba to Baamonde
18.7 km/11.6 miles 25,123 Steps
Total: 725.3 km /450.4 miles 1,139,467 Steps
The Road Ahead
Camino Day 33 – October 24
Sometimes when we face a big challenge it seems like too much. When we are in the middle of it, it seems like it will never end. When Sonia was diagnosed with a cancer all I could see was the struggle ahead, with no idea about what lay beyond. When we get to those places, and climb those mountains it is exhausting to body and soul.
Yesterday I climbed the biggest single mountain on the Camino Norte. I distinctly remember this climb from seven years ago. I didn’t expect it and thought it would never end. This time I knew it was coming and felt more prepared for the challenge.
What greeted me at the top was a spectacular view and quiet so soft that I could hear a bumble bee 20 feet away darting among the crocus blossoms. I sat for more than an hour gazing back at where I’d been. I sat in that same spot, seven years ago to the day, with the exact same weather. I shared the picture with my sister who wondered if it made me sad. It did, but the stronger emotion was the hope found in the overwhelming beauty of the world God has made. I offered prayers of thanksgiving for both where I had been and where I was going.
Even if some of the things or people we love are missing, the world is still beautiful and and full of wonder. I don’t feel like I am walking this trip to go back to where I have been as much as moving forward to where God is calling. It is about the road ahead and the joy to be found.
On the other side of the mountain the road was visible for a great distance. There will surely be other hills to climb and miles to cover. If we look at where we have been, we realize that God has been with us as we have climbed what seemed like impossible mountains. We know more challenges will come our way and that God will be there too. More importantly there will be new joys to be found — every single day — when we walk with God on the road that lies as ahead.
Vilalba to Baamonde
18.7 km/11.6 miles 25,123 Steps
Total: 725.3 km /450.4 miles 1,139,467 Steps
The Magical Mystery Tour
Camino Day 32 – October 23
Owing to the comfort of waking up on a small bunkbed in a room crowded with other pilgrims, I got an early start on my day and was out the door well before sunrise. It was supposed to be a beautiful day, but a thick fog had settled in overnight. As I made my way through wooded paths and fields, I could only make out the faint shapes of objects in the distance.
The mysterious morning was a perfect setting for a horror film. I think the difference between a horror film and a mystery is the intentionality that we take into the unknown. If we walk into a mystery filled with fear, it is a horror. If we walk into the unknown with hope it is something more.
After a month on the Camino feeling the nearness of God in the beauty of creation, I was walking with hope into this mysterious morning. God may be revealed in what is seen, but God is known in the mystery.
I have had many conversations about faith on this trip, but not many with churchgoers. So many seem put off by the church’s unique ability to say “no,” when what I think what God wants to say is “yes.” Forced doctrine and human precepts take the mystery out of that which should remain mysterious. Fear is inserted if “we get it wrong.”
The challenge is inviting others into the greatest mystery that we will never understand with an assurance that will make them want to be a part of it. I know every time I talk about God, I have more questions than answers. We often think we should be looking for answers when maybe what we should strive for are the questions.
I’ve spent 20 years trying to convince people of the things I think I know about God when perhaps I should be talking about what I don’t know.
It’s not facts and doctrine, but the faint shapes in the distance that draw us into the wonder of God. Perhaps that which is unseen is the most beautiful thing we will ever experience. It is the hope in the mystery that is God.
Lourenzá to Abadin
21.8 km/13.5 miles 28,123 Steps
Total: 685.9 km /425.9 miles 1,085,943 Steps
These Boots Were Made for Walking
Camino Day 31 – October 22
After more than 400 miles and a million steps, I am feeling pretty good physically. Apparently exercising regularly might actually be good for the human body. My boots may tell another story. They have been wet, dry, sandy, and muddy. They have taken on a less than pleasant aroma, and one of them seems to be splitting at the seams. In some places the tread of the soles has been worn flat.
When I first thought about it, I was a little disappointed. These boots won’t have much life left in them by the time I get home, and we’ve been through a lot together. The more I thought about, the more I realized one of the best lessons learned on the Camino — use the stuff you like, and you don’t need anything else. I’m not going to put the boots in a museum showcase. It would be pointless to store them until “a better time.” These boots were made for walking, and that’s just what they’ve done.
A common theme of conversation on the Camino, as we compare weights of our packs, is “I wish I hadn’t brought….” Even in these barebones backpacks, rarely do we wish for more. Yet we get home and keep acquiring stuff. If it’s nice stuff, we might want to “save” it for something special. What is special, is using things as intended, for as long as possible. There is nothing special about being locked away in a closet until the end of time. I’ve heard countless stories of people inheriting “the fine china” that never saw the light of day. If it hasn’t been used it hasn’t been infused with memories that give meaning.
When Jesus sent the disciples out he was clear, “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic.” If we don’t need extra when we go out, why do we stockpile it at home?
All of this is a reminder that the gifts we have been given by God — whether our bodies or our material possessions — were meant to be fully used for their intended purpose as long as practical. I doubt there is anything in the closet that delights God.
A Ponte to Lourenzá
16.5 km/10.2 miles 34,288 Steps
Total: 664.2 km /412.4 miles 1,057,821 Steps
God is Never Finished
Camino Day 30 – October 21
I told a friend that if nothing more happens on this trip, it has been more than I could ever imagined as I remember both where I have been and look forward to where God is calling me. It has been more than enough. I thought God was done revealing the wonders of creation. Fortunately for all of us, God is never finished.
I spent last night in an apartment with my current traveling companions. They had convinced me that rather than continuing on the Camino and heading inland from Ribadeo, that I should continue down the cost for another 10 miles or so, to a beach that is renown for its rock formations – Playa de la Catedrales – Cathedral Beach. I had never heard of it. I had one day of flexibility left in my schedule and am always glad to spend more time by the ocean so I agreed to their proposal.
The day started with the four of us watching a gorgeous sunrise before we set out. The weather quickly deteriorated.
As we walked along the coast a persistent heavy mist was blowing in our faces. It was cold. It was wet. We stopped for coffee about halfway there and checked the weather radar. It was only going to get worse.
As we got closer to our destination there was a hint of blue amongst the clouds. We laughed at the tease we thought it represented trusting the forecast more than God. As we continued on, more and more blue filled the sky. The rain stopped. By the time we got to Cathedral Beach we could see the sun.
After walking 400 beautiful miles of the Spanish coast, this was the most spectacular beach I had seen yet. You can only walk it at low tide, which was exactly when we arrived. Caves and great stone arches lined the shore. The deafening roar of the nearby waves filled the air.
Whenever we think God is done, we have severely underestimated God. The wonders of creation are everywhere to be seen, and God is far from finished. God is not finished shaping the coastline into a great cathedral, nor shaping us into our full stature in Christ.
Ribadeo to Meirengos
16.5 km/10.2 miles 32,573 Steps
Total: 653.1 km /405.6 miles 1,023,824 Steps
Marked as Christ’s Own
Camino Day 29 – October 20
Today I ran into some pilgrims I had met earlier. Our conversation returned to a theme common on the Camino — why are we so able to enter into real and meaningful conversations so easily on this journey? So much of our lives seems to be spent guarded. We are afraid to reveal the broken part of ourselves that makes us vulnerable. We don’t always feel comfortable in those conversations, but those are the ones that lead to real connection and change.
The three of them are all in their 30s and not particularly keen on church for a variety of legitimate reasons. One was raised in a fundamental background and told what she legitimately felt was wrong. Another was asked to fully accept dogma that made no sense. I talked about the mystery into which we are invited and the wonder of God that surrounds us. A wonder that has more truth than the rules and dogma the church so often leans on.
One of them asked if I would baptize him. Suddenly the conversion stories of talking about Jesus while walking down the road became so real. I thought about all of the canonical reasons why I shouldn’t baptize him and immediately said, “Yes!”
I remembered walking this section seven years ago and knew of a rocky beach just ahead. As we walked, we talked about what baptism means and how it was an acknowledgment of what already is — that we are the beloved children of God and inheritors of the kingdom of heaven.
I recited the prologue from John, waded into the ocean and used my pilgrim scallop shell to baptize him in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. My favorite part of baptism is the anointing, and while I didn’t have oils blessed by a bishop, I did have an olive oil packet. With it I made the sign of the cross on his forehead and reminded him that he was sealed in Baptism, and marked as Christ’s own forever.
Our vulnerability leads us to God whose we are and always have been. You are marked as God’s own forever. That is the wonder the kingdom of heaven, that is here and now.
Tapia to Ribadeo
10.7 km/6.7 miles 30,842 Steps
Total: 636.6 km /395.4 miles 991,251 Steps
Pray. Trust. Wait.
Camino Day 28 – October 19
I believe in signs that God offers to gently guide us. I know that I am not going to recognize all the signs put before me and often need help. Sometime in Lent a friend sent me a picture of a sign they had seen. It said Pray, Trust, Wait. A couple weeks later, on the pile of donations so often left outside the door of the church, there was framed sign that carried the same three words.
Before I left for this journey they gave me a pendant engraved with that same sentiment. I hung it on the chain I wear around my neck with my other pilgrimage medallions. As I walk along, with my thumbs hung in the straps of my backpack, I wrap my fingers around the clutch of medallions. Sometimes because it’s there, and sometimes because I need to remember.
Today was a another gloomy, rainy day spent looking for the signs that mark the Camino. When your fingers and the phone screen are both wet, it becomes nearly impossible to use.
As I clutched my pendant today in the rain, I was reminded of a rainy day earlier in the trip. I had followed a sign that guided pilgrims off the road for safety and found myself on an unmarked path, in the woods, in the rain. The clouds even blocked the sun which would have at least oriented me to the west that late in the day. I pulled out my phone, and after attempting to dry my phone and the screen, Google maps showed me that I was in the woods. I knew that. Off to the west, there was a road, but I didn’t know where west was.
I grabbed my pendant, and remembered that when we feel lost, physically or metaphorically there is one answer – pray, trust and wait. I felt some relief and hope in remembering those words. Moments later the sun burst through the clouds showing me where west was. I found the road. I was still wet, but no longer lost.
It was not the first time I needed the reminder that the answer to most challenges is to pray, trust and wait. It surely won’t be the last.
Navia to Tapia
21.0 km/13.5 miles 32,025 Steps
Total: 625.9 km /388.7 miles 960,409 Steps
Leaving Luarca Lightly
Camino Day 27 – October 18
There is a unique geological feature found when departing most seaside towns in northern Spain. While I don’t know if there is a particular Spanish name for it, I simply refer to it as the BFH. BFH is clearly and acronym with the “B” standing for Big, the “H” standing for Hill and the “F” standing for a word I use frequently enough that my staff bought me socks that say, “I love Jesus, but I cuss a little.”
I remember leaving Luarca seven years ago. After the slog up the BFH I wasn’t sure I could go another step. Today I floated up the hill into the bright light of day and the colors that lay beyond.
After a restful day, filled with prayers and answered prayers I felt unburdened more than at any point on the trip. I had been pondering things and offering them up to God, asking for answers . God’s track record in answering me when “I” want the answers is spotty at best. Often my ability to see or hear the answers is no better. My experience of the last day(s) has shed some light for me on this holy Q&A.
First, God can’t answer our questions if we don’t ask. Nothing you want to ask of God is too trivial or too small. You may not want to burden yourself by asking too many meaningless questions, but God has all the time in the world. God made time, so God can make more.
Second, God can’t answer our questions if we are not ready to hear those answers. You don’t ask a friend a question then walk away, and later get mad at the friend because you didn’t hear the answer. You need to sit with God, and be present to God to better hear what God has to say.
In our lives, sometimes the BFH is of our own making because we aren’t ready to trust God. We may be unwilling to ask God for help and too impatient to wait for an answer. When I end my pilgrimage I will need to remember to make the time and space to hear God. It is time and space we all need.
Luarca to Navia
20.5 km/12.7 miles 31,985 Steps
Total: 604.9 km /375.6 miles 928,364 Steps
The Promise of Hope
Camino Day 26 – October 17
When Sonia and I came back from her first consultation at Sloan Kettering there was a rainbow hovering wast of Route 1 as we approached Princeton. I remember it clearly and remember just what I thought: “This is hopeful, but it may not be the hope I want.” It was and it wasn’t.
After her funeral last year, I stood out on the lawn of my church with my oldest friends who had come to support me. There was a rainbow in the clouds. I thought, “This is hopeful but I don’t know how.”
Genesis 9:16 says “When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” I don’t fully understand what that covenant is or what it means, but I think it is a promise that we will be held by God in whatever comes our way. It is a reminder for us to hope for what is unknown and unseen.
Today I was deep in prayerful thought about something small but very meaningful to me. I was going to lunch and decided to walk down to the port first. There it was — a bow in the clouds. It was the confirmation I needed. But I didn’t trust it. I walked all the way around the port to get a better view, losing sight of it on the way, and it was still there. There was no rain, but somehow there was a rainbow.
Yesterday I had just come to a prayerful conclusion about something that had been troubling me for months. I walked over the crest of a hill, and there was a rainbow over the ocean. There was no sun, but there was a rainbow.
These were not the first rainbows of this journey and likely won’t be the last. I’m gonna choose to believe that God has made a promise to love us, and that we are held in God‘s loving hands. What we hope for may not come to pass, but what God hopes for us will. It will be better than we can ask or imagine. That is a promise.
Canero to Luarca
9.0 km/5.6 miles 27,030 Steps
Total: 584.4 km /362.9 miles 896,379 Steps
The Road Not Taken
Camino Day 25 – October 16
I was very much looking forward to today’s planned route that offered an option of a 12-mile rural stretch through the mountains with nothing but beautiful scenery and views or a an “easier” stretch through several small villages. The mountain route was one of the most challenging and memorable from my previous Camino and I was excited to revisit it.
In reviewing the books and apps, there was a lot of guidance directing people away from the mountain route. In turn, this has led to the path being more difficult to find because of limited wear. It was strongly suggested to avoid it in the rain.
I got to the point where the paths split and took a similar picture to the one I had seven years ago. The morning drizzle had become an afternoon rain. In the wisdom of my advanced age, I changed my mind and headed to the villages.
It was the most miserable stretch of the Camino I have experienced. Six or seven times I entered a town, scrambled down a wet rocky ravine, waded across a creek swollen by the now incessant rain, and then scrambled back up an uneven path to the next town, where a few hundred yards of paved road were the reward before heading back into the woods. Over and over again. It was the longest day I have ever spent walking, but far from the greatest distance I ever covered.
When I reached the split seven years ago, knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I would ever come back. It made me appreciate the road less traveled by, but all was not lost. The length and misery of the day led to some unexpected prayerful insights. Somehow, even without the sun, a rainbow emerged over the sea.
Often that is how it is when we walk with God. We have big plans and hopes, they don’t work out, but life works out. There are unexpected challenges and we somehow survive. Rather than focus on the disappointment of what didn’t happen we are called to look at what did, how we grew, and what wonders emerged. I wouldn’t trade this day for anything.
Cudillero to Canero
33.5 km/20.8 miles 48,558 Steps
Total: 576.1 km /357.8 miles 869,349 Steps
No Body but Yours
Camino Day 24 – October 15
Today is the feast day of one of my favorite saints, Teresa of Ávila. Seven years ago when I was on the Camino, I took a pilgrimage within a pilgrimage to go down to Ávila (not to be confused with Avilés where I started today) to celebrate her feast day. It fell on a Sunday and it was quite the Catholic extravaganza. It was delightful to see how this is saint of the church continues to be honored, loved, and appreciated in modern times.
My favorite quote of hers from one of her prayers is :
Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which He looks compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which He blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are His body.
I love the idea in this that we are the embodiment of Christ in the here and now.
If I am in fact, part of Christ body on earth, I’m not sure how pleased Jesus is with me for the abuse I’ve given mine over the last three weeks. While a pilgrimage is often physically challenging, I am not ready to embrace a theological proposition that God wants us to suffer so we can know Christ’s suffering. We get enough of that just living.
What the discomfort of pilgrimage seems to do more than anything else is change our thinking. We are too engrossed in the present to dissect the past or worry about the future. There is never anything we can do to change the past, and on a pilgrimage our ability to shape the future is dramatically reduced by our separation from our normal lives. On a pilgrimage we can be more fully present – in our bodies and souls – to a God we can only know in the here and now. Perhaps that is why so many faith practices besides Christian encourage pilgrimage.
Teresa offers an invitation – whether on a pilgrimage or not – to look with compassion on the world today and do good today. Do not worry about tomorrow.
Avilés to Cudillero
28.8 km/17.9 miles 38,172 Steps
Total: 542.6 km /336.9 miles 820,791 Steps
God’s Variety Pack
Camino Day 23 – October 14
When I lived in Princeton I used to joke that I was one hour from New York City and one hour from Philadelphia but still had to drive through a cornfield to get to my favorite grocery store. There is something interesting in the juxtaposition of all the manifestations of life that surround us. God is in that variety showing the wonders of a creation that is ongoing.
Today when I left Gijon I encountered a similar juxtaposition of varied landscapes. I started off by the broad beach next to downtown and then moved toward the harbor. From there I walked through the suburbs waking up for the week ahead. As I made it out of town I circled a huge steel mill before climbing into the farmland that had been such a familiar sight along the way. I did all of this in less than three hours on foot. All of this was found within 10 miles of where I spent the night.
When we live somewhere I think we stop seeing the varied landscapes around us. It becomes so routine that we forget the variety that is there. The wonder of creation extends beyond the natural order into those things shaped by human hands. While a steel mill that seems to stretch for miles belching smoke into the air may not be as beautiful as the sun rising over the beach, it is still an absolute wonder in scale and complexity.
What if we approached our familiar world with fresh eyes? Part of the joy in traveling is seeing new things. Our eyes and heart seem more open to all that is around us. We can be astounded by what other people consider ordinary and everyday. The world really is a magical place.
God wants us to see that magic. Every new day is an invitation from God to open our eyes to all that is around us. Wherever you live you you are likely surrounded by more variety than you realize – probably within 10 miles. Walk around and see what is there. Open your heart to the wonder that is nearby. When you see God’s variety pack, you will see God.
Gijon to Avilés
24.2 km/24.6 miles 39,667 Steps
Total: 513.7 km /319.0 miles 781,239 Steps
Common Gifts
Camino Day 22 – October 13
I stayed in a former rectory that had been converted to an albergue (hostel), before starting today’s 25 mile trek to Gijon. The rectory was located on hill with the ocean just visible in the distance, next to a 10th century church where a special mass was being held honoring the National Day of Spain.
The church was as packed as an old stone building that only holds 50 people can be. I grabbed one of the last remaining seats. The church showed every bit of wear and tear from more than 1,000 years of worship.
The church was so small that it had no vesting room, and even though it was the appointed hour the priest was still setting things up from his traveling Mass kit. He then started putting in his vestments – all the things I wear on a Sunday – alb, cincture, stole, and chasuble. In seeing this usually more intimate act, I felt deeply connected to our shared tradition amidst the crumbling walls which had seen this more times than I could count.
I love Sunday mornings more than any day of the week. I don’t ever want to take for granted the privileged places I get to walk and where I serve. As he removed his vestments from a shopping bag, careful not to get them on the old dusty stone, I was grateful for how my vergers or altar guild carefully set mine out each week. I was grateful for the rugged beauty of where I was sitting and the beauty of where I regularly serve.
I think we sometimes take for granted the privileged places we get to walk – what ever our calling may be. Mine may be to the priesthood. Yours may be something entirely different, but it is just as valuable and just as wonderful in the sight of God if you are doing what you are called to do.
As things become common and ordinary we really can start to take them for granted. It is a gift to be able to step away and look in at our lives and the incredible gifts God offers each of us. May we never take for granted those blessings, even as they become common and routine.
Priesca to Gijon
39.6 km/24.6 miles 53,366 Steps
Total: 489.5 km /304.0 miles 742,952 Steps
No Turning Back
Camino Day 21 – October 12
One of my disciplines on this trip is to try to be even more confident that God will provide what I need when I need it as I move ahead.
Yesterday a familiar pilgrim and I were both at the wrong place at the same time. When we realized we were off course we did that nervous dance we all do these days when we feel lost. It involves pulling out your phone and spinning in circles to try to orient yourself and get headed in the right direction.
Upon realizing his mistake, he turned back to retrace his steps and find the path. I took a little more time and realized if I kept going in the direction I was headed I would eventually get to where I thought I needed to be. We went our separate ways and I did not see him again – until this morning.
I met him again as he was headed back in the opposite direction. I thought I knew why and said, “No coffee?” Nothing had been open as we left town. He nodded in acknowledgment of our shared predicament. I told him that I had seen a coffee machine a few blocks back but that, despite having no coffee yet, I was not ready to stoop that low or turn back. I was going to trust that God would provide. Again, he headed back and we went our separate ways.
As I made my way to what I thought was the edge of town and last hope for coffee, there amongst the seaside mansions was a random hotel. Their breakfast buffet was open. I went in and had my fill of coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice, warm rolls, fruits, cheeses and meats. I had a sumptuous feast with an ocean view.
I left the breakfast buffet filled singing the hymn “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus” with its lovely refrain of “No turning back, no turning back.” I see this an invitation for us to always walk forward with God. As we move forward with Jesus, we will realize that we will be filled. I felt sorry for my pilgrim friend, but for me there is no turning back.
Ribadesella to Priesca
29.1 km/18.0 miles 35,549 Steps
Total: 450.0 km /279.4 miles 689,587 Steps
Half Empty/Half Full/Halfway
Camino Day 20 – October 11
At this point, I’ve made it about halfway through my planned journey. (Remember, we make plans and God laughs – so let’s see what happens next.) There have been times I wish it were over, and times that I wish it would never end. There are times I have been completely full, and there have been times when I’ve been completely empty.
I had a long day planned after realizing I had made some mistakes in my calculations about timing and distance. (A topic for another post!) I made the long day even longer by taking the more coastal route that offered some of the most spectacular rock formations I have seen so far. I may have felt completely depleted of energy yet God had things to show me.
I look back and see how I have been shaped by where I’ve been on this trip. I have seen beautiful sunrises to start my day and a dynamic ever-changing coastline has been my side-kick for much of the way. I look forward to what lies ahead — sometimes with excitement in the wonders of God’s creation and sometimes with dread in the number of miles I still want to cover.
I suppose that is where we so often find ourselves – what we suppose is halfway between where we have been and where we think we are going. We find our selves between the past and the future. We find ourselves halfway between hope and dread. We find ourselves half-empty and half-full.
God finds us wherever we are and reminds us that we are complete. With God there is no half-empty/half-full, there is only complete. God fills us in our emptiness, and expands us in our fullness to make room for more.
My day started with a giant squid washed up in the beach in front of my hotel window and ended with a traditional bean stew familiar in this part of Spain. In between I saw the wonders of what God has created between the sea and shore. Each day we walk with God we will see new wonders, and whether we feel half-full or half-empty we are complete as only God can make us.
Llanes to Ribadesella
29.9 km/18.5 miles 43,036 Steps
Total: 420.9 km /261.4 miles 654,038 Steps
I Love a Rocky Crag
Camino Day 19 – October 10
My local beaches on the Jersey shore are incredibly tame compared to the coast of northern Spain where the Camino de Santiago has taken me. In New Jersey, there are miles of smooth beaches from Sandy Hook to Cape May. The Spanish coast is full of rocky crags dotted with small sandy beaches. Both the shore and the coast are wonders of God’s creation.
Along the coast today, I walked a challenging path filled with rocky crags. An angry sea churned below me, not fully over the storms that blew through last night, despite the bright, calm weather today.
Given the choice, it seems more often than not, we would choose a smooth path over a rocky one. I love a soft sandy beach. Life doesn’t always work out that way. A smooth path may get us from one place to another more quickly, but it’s the rocky path that changes who we are and perhaps sets the real direction that God wants us to go. Smooth may keep us on a course we have already set, but it is the rocky crags in our lives that create the change that shapes us.
Rocky crags and paths demand our full attention. As we scramble over and through them, we’re forced to be more careful with each step. We become more aware of where we are and more alive. While it may initially seem like a daunting challenge, if we slow down to pray, trust, and wait, we see the real beauty of what the rocky crag has to offer.
Today’s journey started on a smooth paved pathway where I strolled quite easily. As the route turned toward the sea, everything changed. It looked more challenging and definitely was. I scrambled over rocks that had been molded by the sea for millions of years. From a distance, all you could see were the sharp angles and jagged edges. As you got closer you saw the soft, smooth parts that had been shaped by years of angry waves beating on the coast. The fierce beauty of the rocky crags were another gift from God in an unexpected form. The smoothest path my not always be the most rewarding.
Unquera to Llanes
25.4 km/15.7 miles 34,123 Steps
Total: 391.0 km /242.8 miles 611,023 Steps
Angels in our Midst
Camino Day 18 – October 9
Clarence, the guardian angel in the classic Christmas movie “It’s a Wonderful Life” reminds us that God‘s messengers come to us in places and forms that we might not quite expect. Today I was walking down the street and encountered a rather rotund individual sitting on a table outside of what I presumed was his home. He started barking at me in Spanish. I provided my most confident response, “No hablo español.”
This only intensified his Spanish barking, but this time it came with pointing. I turned my head to where he directed and it became clear to me that there was another route from the bar where I had just stopped for coffee. It was the route that I was supposed to be on.
I have often told the story of the one time on my last Camino when we were making our way through a seemingly deserted town and there was unexpected yelling from a window pointing us in the right direction – back to the Camino. That was the one time this happened seven years ago
On this Camino, I have half as many eyes searching for the signs and am probably less focused because of my confidence in how well the route is marked, the accuracy of the apps on my phone, and my experience. What I didn’t realize is how many guardian angels I would need to help me get to where I needed to be. My angel today was at least the sixth time on this Camino that one of these dear souls has guided me.
It makes me wonder how many times angels come into each of our lives redirecting us ever so slightly back onto a path that will get us to where we most need to be. Our confidence in thinking we know where we are going only makes their work more difficult. While I am grateful for the freewill I have been given, I am even more grateful for the angels – the messengers from God – who have guided me to the path on which I should be. Trust that they are with you, even if they don’t look the part.
Comillas to Unquera
26.4 km/16.4 miles 32,767 Steps
Total: 365.7 km /227.1 miles 576,879 Steps
The Space of Sabbath
Camino Day 17 – October 8
On the 17th day, John rested. For those making a long Camino, rest days are strongly recommended about once a week. Sabbath is important no matter what you do. I didn’t think l needed it. I didn’t want to be “unproductive.” After averaging nearly 32,000 steps (about 15 miles) every day for nearly three weeks since I landed in Europe, it was probably a good idea.
It was a very good idea.
I woke up in a hotel instead of a hostel and had more breakfast than I had eaten in months. I went toward the beach and found a bench overlooking the ocean, where I could hear the ocean and breathe in the salt air. I said my prayers and not much else. I ate a great lunch and went to bed early. I accomplished nothing.
But perhaps I made space for everything to become more clear.
We tend to reject the idea of sabbath and rest, because we have been so programmed by society to be productive and to accomplish things. As I woke the following morning to a text from a beloved friend, I had a revelation about sabbath. It is the space that delineates the wonders and joys of the world. Just as space separates words on a page and one paragraph from another, we need that space to make meaning out of what we have seen and where we have been. Itwouldbemoredifficultoappreciateandunderstandifitallrantogether.
After spending six days filling the pages of creation, God left some space to rest and encourages us to do the same. We underestimate the power and influence of what that space and time can bring. God may be even closer in that seemingly empty space than in the full richness of our lives.
I know as I read a book, and come to the half-empty page at the end of a chapter, I am filled with a sense of accomplishment and an excited anticipation about what comes next. If we fill all of our space and time, there is less room for God to start the new chapter that we most need to hear.
Comillas
0 km/0 miles 10,427 Steps
Total: 339.3 km /210.7 miles 537,453 Steps
Rainy Days and Mondays
Camino Day 16 – October 7
I woke to the gentle sound of rain outside the window of the monastic cell where I had spent the night. I usually find rain to be a comforting sound, but that’s because I am not usually planning to walk 15 miles that day. It was dark. It was damp. It was Monday. I didn’t want to get up and take the next step. We’ve all been there.
I had little choice. As wonderfully accommodating as the former monastery was, we had to be out by 9:00am. I got some coffee, put on my poncho, and headed out onto the damp path. Sometimes we have to keep going. But not always.
I cannot say the day improved quickly. Every time I thought the rain had ended and took off my poncho, I was rewarded with fresh showers. There were occasional glimpses of the ocean which was barely discernible from the grey fog hovering just above the water. After 15 consecutive days of walking, and more than 200 miles behind me, I was tired and just wanted to be done for the day.
With just a couple of miles to go before my intended destination, I found a small church with an open door. I thought my best choice was to grind out the last miles and take a hot shower.
I had promised myself that I would stop in every open church I saw on this trip after finding so many closed last time I made this journey. I would take it as an invitation from God to rest. Against my better judgment, I decided to stop. I took off my poncho, read noonday prayer and a couple of chapters from Luke. When I looked up from my reading, I noticed the light had changed. The sun had come out for the first time all day.
I think God is always inviting us to come and sit for a moment. I believe whenever we sit with God, whatever we return to will be better than it was before. When God offers an open door – as God so often does – we should always go in.
Santillana del Mar to Comillas
22.5 km/14.0 miles 30,459 Steps
Total: 339.3 km /210.7 miles 527,037 Steps
I Am on a Lonely Road
Camino Day 15 – October 6
The Joni Mitchell song “All I Want” begins with the lyrics:
I am on a lonely road and I am traveling,
Traveling, traveling, traveling,
Looking for something, what can it be?
This was my theme song today, although it wasn’t a road as much as a rocky path on a cliff overlooking the ocean until I headed inland toward the lovely little medieval town of Santillana Del Mar. I’ve spent most of the last couple of days on a longer, unofficial part of the Camino as I hug the coast as much as possible. It is less traveled. It is lonely.
Sometimes we all feel like we’re on a lonely road looking for something. It made me more aware of all the time I have spent by myself in the last year. I’ve spent more time alone since Sonia died than any other time in my life. Until now I’ve always been surrounded by siblings or roommates or a spouse sharing my living space.
But this year I’ve been alone. Traveling. Looking for something. Something may have always been there.
What surprises me more than the loneliness of the past year is how much I have not felt lonely. There are certainly those times of painful emptiness where nothing can take the place of a loved one that we have lost, but that is never the whole story.
I’m starting to look at being alone as a gift. There will be certainly times of loneliness within it, but there is loneliness sometimes even when we have people around us.
As we walk with God, we are never alone. Jesus is our constant companion always beside us. Ready to be a conversation partner in any conversation we want to have and every conversation we should have.
The time alone on this journey has offered me more of a chance to pray than I get in a regular day. There’s a definite sadness in loneliness, but sometimes a hopefulness in being alone and the freedom it offers to turn toward God.
If our deepest desire is to be near to God, we will never really be alone and that may be all I want.
Liencres to Santillana Del Mar
26.8 km/16.6 miles 36,595 Steps
Total: 316.9 km /196.8 miles 496,357 Steps
Take the Long Way Home
Camino Day 14 – October 5
Often our rush to get to the end encourages us to take shortcuts. This is possible many places along the Camino. It often leads to busy roads that are far less scenic than the traditional path. Today I did the complete opposite and took the long way. The really long way.
On leaving my lodging in Santander, I headed east well before the sun came up. My destination is to the west. I spent more than an hour hugging the coast through Santander. On one palisade overlooking the harbor I was greeted with the first colors breaking through the inky blackness of the night sky. As I continued, the light changed every few moments, offering new colors in a palette held only by God. By the time the sun made itself fully known I was on a rocky outcrop on the eastern tip of the peninsula that holds Santander. Another magnificent sunrise greeted the day.
I continued though unmarked paths that hugged the coastline. It was an effort in staying as close the water as possible without falling off a cliff. The paths were neither smooth nor straight. I spent eight hours to get to a hotel that was a 13 minute drive from where I had started the day. It was worth (almost) every minute.
I think God does not always want us to get to where we are going in the most efficient way, yet that seems to be our default. Our time on earth is limited, and we think we have to “make the most of it.” We think that means getting quickly to where we think we need to be.
We are annoyed by detours, or by what we perceive as detours in the car, in relationships, in school, or in our jobs. As we walk with God, those detours could be just the gift we most need.
My detour today was a choice. The sea sang its non-stop rhythmic melody. I saw more rock sculptures than any museum could hold. I breathed fresh salt air until my lungs and heart were full. As we walk with God, sometimes detours may be the best way forward.
Santander to Liencres
10.6 km/6.6 miles 37,485 Steps
Total: 290.1 km /180.1 miles 459,993 Steps
Beasts of Love and Creation
Camino Day 13 – October 4
Today is the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi. One of the things he is historically known for is his love of animals. In many ways it was just an extension of his love for all of God’s creation. We honor this in our annual pet blessing ceremony where we give thanks to God for the wonder of creation.
The first funeral over which I “presided” was for a bird that was found dead on my seminary campus. I don’t remember the particulars, but I do remember gathering my children and their friends as we laid out feathered friend to rest. I will admit that as a parish priest I feel like I have dealt more with parishioners grieving over the loss of their beloved pets than the people in their lives. This is testament to the shorter lives our animal friends live, and the non judgmental love we feel from our animal companions. Sometimes it is easier to love an animal than some of the people in our lives.
One of the many wonders of the Camino is all of the animals that seem to cross your path. Much of the Camino is spent wandering through farms where cows, horses, sheep, goats, chickens, cats and dogs seem to make their home. Sometimes in the quiet of the countryside all you can hear are the birds singing in the trees. Along the coast you are accompanied by the constant cry of the gulls. It is a steady reminder of the life that surrounds us and the wonder of creation.
Our biggest challenge may be to love one another as our pets love us. In many ways that may be the clearest example of how God loves us. They quickly forget our mistakes, and don’t carry a list of our shortcomings. They are satisfied with most everything we have to offer. They love us when we most need it and surprise us with unexpected playfulness. They seem grateful for whatever affection and food we give. Let us strive to live and love with that same contentment and devotion to honor the God of all this wondrous creation.
Güermes to Santander
15.4 km/9.6 miles 28,657 Steps
Total: 279.5 km /173.6 miles 421,017 Steps
New Beginnings
Camino Day 12 – October 3
This morning I got up early and headed in the wrong direction – on purpose. After yesterday’s washout, I wanted to see the sunrise, and the ancient fort a mile down the coast looked like it would offer the best view.
I was disappointed at what I saw as the appointed hour for the sunrise approached. In a theme to which I will return, I decided to pray, trust and wait. I started my morning prayers and still did not see the wonder I was hoping for. At this point I was frustrated with myself for wasting my time and energy. I started scrambling down the fort, to make my way out of town. Then I looked back.
At first it was just a hint of pastel, but I stopped to see what would happen next. As the light unfolded across the sky, I realized I needed to climb back up the fort. The rays of the sun burst from behind the clouds. Light began to shine on the town across the water. It was another magical morning brought to you by the God of creation.
While Genesis seems to say that God created everything in six short days, it seems that creation is an ongoing process. God has the ability to make all things new. Each sunrise is a reminder of the hope in those new beginnings and the continuous nature of creation. These new beginnings will not always happen when we want them to or where we want them to, but I am convinced that if we pray, trust, and wait, God will offer something new – better than anything we could imagine.
I was overwhelmed today by what a gift it is to be on this journey and to be able to take the time to wait for God. Perhaps it is a reminder for me that when I return it will be just as important to wait. We so often think we need to get to what is next, but God will meet us where we are and let us start again.
Santoña to Güermes
20.9 km/13.0 miles 35,876 Steps
Total: 263.1 km /164.0 miles 391,884 Steps
Epic and Painful
Camino Day 11 – October 2
A very dear friend likes to tease me about my love of a painful and epic journey. I saw a sign at the beginning of this trip that offered a warning. Physical pain is one thing, emotional pain is another.
At this point, I just need to make sure my body parts don’t form a a union to better organize their protests. Four of five toes on my left foot, my ankle, my shins, my thighs, my hips and my back have all taken turns voicing their disapproval of my current endeavor. Fortunately they are alternating at this point and may not be aware that their immediate neighbors are also objecting to the 150 miles we have collectively covered. If an organized protest is afoot, I believe the toes will be the first to assemble a coalition. Their proximity in confined quarters makes them a more natural gathering. Today’s non stop rain did not make any of us happy.
Physical pain is not the the most debilitating type of suffering. We can march on with sore toes and legs, but not so well with a broken heart and tortured mind. There have been times in the past year where the next step seemed impossible and all I wanted to do was stop where I was and melt into a puddle. Today I found myself marching through puddles where Sonia and I had walked before. The pain of heartache and loss was real.
So much of what I felt in that loss today was because our journey was so epic. I realized the pain doesn’t stop us if we walk with God. It is then the epic nature of the journey is fully revealed as look back on where we have been and the wonders we have experienced.
I saw that first sign while I was still in France. I think it has a very different meaning than my initial interpretation. It made me contemplate the bread of life that carries our pain when we are not sure we can.
I don’t remember this much physical pain when I walked the Camino before. This can be true of our epic journeys through life. There will be pain but that is not the memory that holds fast. The monumental sights and experiences are what truly shape us and pull us forward. God is always pulling us forward with the next step, drawing us out of any momentary pain into an everlasting epic journey of hope.
Oriñion to Santoña
30.6 km/19.0 miles 23,123 Steps
Total: 243.1 km /151.0 miles 352,753 Steps
Mistakes Were Made
Camino Day 10 – October 1
So today mistakes were made. After spending more than I wanted to on lodging yesterday I thought I would book a cheap hostel to save some money and meet some other people. I found one that was “a bit further ahead” and for €30 they offered dinner, breakfast, and a bed.
“A bit further ahead” turned out to be an hour off the Camino. An hour that I will have to retrace tomorrow to get back to the route. I am the only one here. There is no Wi-Fi. The food was mediocre at best and it’s raining out. There is really nowhere to go, even if the weather was better in this small summer beach town. It even feels cold and damp inside.
It is always better to trust in God’s abundance than to skimp because we think there will not be enough. If we trust in God’s abundance we will more likely experience grace.
God’s abundance was on display this morning as the sun came up and the sky exploded in vibrant colors. The other pilgrims on the path stopped and stared. We had no place better to be than wallowing in God’s amazing creation. The beauty of the morning carried me through the day.
As I entered the seaside town of Castro-Urdiales the 13th century church drew me forward. Surprisingly the doors were open and I got to go in and pray the noonday office. There was a couple in front of me praying together In Spanish. Their service ended with a kiss.
Even as the day got long, there was still beauty to be found as I returned to the rocky coastline. The sea will be my dynamic companion for much of this journey reminding me of the dynamic ways God infuses us with life.
I will not let the mediocre accommodations of the evening dampen my spirits. I know God has more wonders to share. We need to trust that even when things don’t seem perfect for us, God can do incredible things. I am excited about what unexpected glory God will reveal tomorrow – even in the expected rain.
Pobena to Oriñion
31.2 km/19.4 miles 40,553 Steps
Total: 212.6 km /132.0 miles 329,630 Steps
When We Come into Your Kingdom
Camino Day 9 – September 30
My soundtrack on this journey is whatever song pops into my head first thing in the morning. It seems to get played on a continuous loop throughout the day, creating a theme. I often wonder why it’s there. Sometimes it is more clear.
Today’s musical accompaniment was the Taize chant, “Jesus remember me, when you come into your kingdom.” It was a day of remembering. Exactly a year ago we honored Sonia’s entry into the heart of Christ as we we laid her to rest at St. Luke’s. Remembering can be hard.
The journey today covered some remembered paths for the first time as I ventured onto the route we followed seven years ago after leaving Bilbao. I found the sign that I had posed under then – delighted to have an indication that I was where I was supposed to be. It will take many more signs to get me to Santiago, and even more to get me into the kingdom of heaven . It was particularly poignant to be walking this almost familiar path.
I decided to end the day in the beach town where we spent our first night on the Camino in 2017. This afternoon the sun was shining brightly, and the waves were crashing loudly. I remember walking across that beach seven years ago not quite sure of where we were going or how long it would take to get there. It was the first day of a magical journey that has shaped my life ever since. Remembering can be a gift.
In Sonia’s last Instagram post, a couple weeks before she died, she wrote, “Soon I will be in the heart of Christ, and I will know as I am fully known by him.” She knew she would be remembered not by just those she left behind, but by the one who really matters. We should all remember to have the confidence to know that we are known by a God who loves us more than we can ask or imagine – both in the kingdom of God that is now, and in the kingdom of heaven that is to come.
Bilbao to Pobena
32.2 km/20.0 miles 33,119 Steps
Total: 181.35 km /112.6 miles 287,749 Steps
Sunday - That’s My Fun Day
Camino Day 8 – September 29
Sunday is my favorite day of the week. It is the day where I get to gather with my community as we worship together. Amazing things happen when we come together in the name of God.
Today would be different for a lot of reasons. The thousands of miles that separated me from the dear people of St. Luke’s was one of them. I planned a “rest” day on the Camino. It is is suggested by the guidebooks, and I believe the idea of sabbath is found somewhere in scripture.
With only a few miles to walk to get to Bilbao, I planned to do some exploring. I stuck my head in every open church door I could find. It was Sunday so the churches were more alive. I also bought a ticket to visit the Guggenheim museum of modern art – another of my favorite things to explore.
On a warm sunny Autumn day, some of the churches of Bilbao were glorious inside and out. Each has its own story to tell, yet each shares the same story. There is comfort in feeling that, which somehow connects me to my home church. We are part of something so much bigger than ourselves and our community.
That said, the strongest energy I felt all day was when I decided to go to a football match. We call it soccer. I had heard from some fellow pilgrims that there was a game on Sunday. As I walked through town, everyone seemed to be wearing the team colors. The game started a bit after I left the art museum and was a short walk away. Tickets were still available when I got there even through the stadium, which holds 1/5 of the population of Bilbao, looked packed.
The crowd erupted as the hometown team took a lead in the first half. It made me realize how important it is for all of us to be part of something bigger than ourselves. We expand into the reassurance that we are not alone. When we come together in the name of God we learn that we are never alone and always part of something bigger than ourselves.
Zamudio to Bilbao
7.6 km/4.7 miles 27,654 Steps
Total: 149.1 km /92.6 miles 254,165 Steps
The Path of Least Resistance
Camino Day 7 – September 28
I was greeted by another rainy day and another set of hills to climb and descend. As I started my first ascent today the entire path looked more like a river than a place where one should walk. There was not just one channel of water flowing down part of the path, there was only water coursing over the rocks from side to side. The sound was glorious, the footing seemed treacherous.
I had no choice but to put my boots (that had almost dried out from the day before) right into the water. As I tentatively made my way up the hill, I became more confident in my footing. As I climbed higher the stream got more narrow, taking less and less of the path, I stepped off to the side, into the mud, and almost slipped backwards. Again, I tried to outsmart the stream in the grass on the other side of the path. It was more slippery than the mud.
I stepped back into the flowing water. Even as the stream became more of a trickle at the top of the hill, the best footing was where the water was flowing effortlessly.
Water always chooses the path of least resistance and we should too. Sometimes we think we know better when we actually don’t. What may look like an obstacle is actually an invitation.
More often than not God offers the path of least resistance. God shows us where to go, and we somehow think we can do better or more. We think we can outsmart God. Sometimes the path of least resistance is clear and other times it may look more difficult when it really isn’t.
God is persistent and gentle in guiding us forward. I found the still small voice of God calling me up (and down) in the beautiful sound of a a babbling brook. We need to be open to where this voice is calling each of us on to the path of least resistance and the most joy.
Gernika to Zamudio
22.8 km/14.2 miles 38,557 Steps
Total: 141.6 km /88.0 miles 219,997 Steps
A Monastic Life
Camino Day 6 – September 27
I had made reservations for the night elsewhere, but one of my fellow pilgrims told us about a Cistercian Monastery another mile along, and I knew I had to go. We make plans, but God can always do better.
Over the course of my short stay I got to participate in four different services. While I understand very little Spanish, the patterns are so familiar. I am surprised at how much the monastic rhythm of prayer is ingrained in my soul from my commitment as an associate at Holy Cross Monastery in New York.
As an added bonus, last night during Compline, a one-eared cat came and sat on my lap.
This morning it was just me and the three monks who seem to be the entirety of this community. As we prayed one of the monks could see I was a little lost and started giving me hand signals to get to the right psalm. I knew his four fingers followed by two fingers meant week four, second psalm and I got to where I needed to be. The chanted rhythms of monastic psalmody are beautiful to me even when I don’t know the words.
Morning prayer flowed into Eucharist. Again, I didn’t know the words but I knew the pattern. One of the gifts of the standard liturgies of the Roman Catholic Church is familiar parts that are so close to what we do in the Episcopal Church. I could rest in that without knowing the language.
When the priest came to bring me communion and held the bread in front of me, I wept. I did not want to break protocol as a non practicing Roman Catholic and refused, crossing my arms over my chest to receive a blessing. The warmth of the his hand on my forehead as he made the sign of the cross, filled me with the warmth of God’s abundant love. It is the love that sustains us today and always.
As I opened the door to leave the church Una Oreja (my one eared amigo) jumped from her seat outside to try to sneak back into the church. I don’t blame her in the least.
Ziortza to Gernika
17.6 km/10.9 miles 23,896 Steps
Total: 118.8 km/73.8 miles 181,440 Steps
The Grey of Grief
Camino Day 5 – September 26
I think the hardest part of grief is not being able to see where you are going, and not wanting to take the next step because the path looks so hard. I realize it’s not just grief that feels this way, but many things that throw us off the course we thought we had planned.
Today was the longest walk in my plan so far, and the weather did not cooperate. As I set off from my albergue I had a 12 mile rural stretch with no services and lots of hills, and then four miles of traveling after that. The rain was constant and the fog was thick. The path was rocky and uneven. It felt like I had been caught up in the grey of grief. I could not see where I was going and often did not want to take the next step.
If you stare up the hill that you think you need to climb it can be overwhelming – especially when you can’t see the top. A gift of the uneven path was that I mostly had to look down to where my next step would fall – avoiding rocks and the deepest puddles. The steps were not always easy, but most were manageable. I didn’t have to worry about the top of the hill.
Most times in life all we have to do is take the next small step. We may expect more of ourselves, or think that others do, but all we can ever do is make the next small move. The destination may seem unmanageable, but the next step is not.
When we are caught up in the grey of grief or pain we can’t see the horizon, and don’t really know what is ahead. We feel like we will be stuck there forever which is never the case. The weather will clear, the horizon will become visible, and light will shine. That is what God has always done and what God will always do. We don’t have to worry about what we think is the destination should be. God may well have other – better – plans. All we need to do is take the next small step.
India Quarter to Ziortza
25.8 km/16.0 miles 37,867 Steps
Total: 101.2 km/62.9 miles 157,440 Steps
Breathe on Me Breath of God
Camino Day 4 – September 25
As I climbed into the hills of the Spanish countryside today, often all I could hear was the wind whistling through the trees. It seems each type of tree has its own pitch, whether pine, eucalyptus or oak. Sometimes together they create a new harmony. All of them seem to responding to the Holy Spirit as they dance and sway in response to the breeze.
One of my favorite Hebrew words is “ruach” often used in scripture, it is roughly translated as “the breath of God.” It is wind, Spirit, life. When I feel wind, I sense the Spirit is near, and the Spirit almost always brings change. The immediate change will be to the weather as tomorrow is supposed to be terribly rainy.
It is is the lasting change that the Spirit brings that intrigues me more. When I walked the Camino seven years ago I was changed in unexpected ways. The Spirt can do that. The change brought a level of contentment and joy in my life, personally and professionally, that I never had before.
One of my favorite hymns is “Breathe on Me Breath of God” whose first stanza goes:
“Breathe on me breath of God,
fill me with life anew
that I may love the way you love,
and do what you would do.”
The winds of the Spirit are breathing new life into me. When Sonia died a year ago I wondered what was ahead. The unexpected joys in the last year have not taken away the heartache, but have made it clear that there is a way forward. I have been filled with life anew.
As I walk this path for the next month the questions that will follow me are how will I love the way God loves and do what God would have me do? They are questions for all of us who make this pilgrimage through life. There will always be setbacks, disappointments, and heartache, but there will always be life anew. The Spirt may be the best guide to get us there.
As I write this the wind continues to howl. The Spirt of God never rests, but we can rest in God.
Zumaia to India Quarter
16.9 km/10.5 miles 22,729 Steps
Total: 75.4 km/46.8 miles 119,436 Steps
Crashing Waves of Change
Camino Day 3 – September 24
God is in the waves of change, constantly softening our edges and creating new shores from which we embark.
There are multiple routes to the burial site of St. James in Santiago de Compostela, all known as the Camino de Santiago. Seven years ago Sonia and I chose the northern route (known as Camino Norte) because most of the path was along the Spanish coastline. I started further east on the same route this year, so today’s stretch was new. Besides the stunning beauty, I was rewarded with a steady soundtrack as the waves crashed against the rocky shore. Sometimes I was right on the beach, and other times I was up in the hills and could still hear the steady roar of the waves.
From the heights all I could see was an unchanging blue stillness stretching beyond the horizon. The steady view in the distance masked the constant motion on the edges – a dynamic action that creates perpetual change.
It made me wonder how much we are like that as humans – seemingly steady, but dynamically affecting and being changed by others near us. The things that we do may seem insignificant, but can profoundly affect those near our dynamic edges. It made me reflect on the people who have changed the course of my life over the years in ways that they may never know.
There is a section of my daily prayer list devoted to those who have specifically shaped my faith journey and helped me know God in new ways. The family, friends, and parishioners who make up much of the list have changed me too.
I don’t know if they understand how fully their impact has changed me and my outlook on the world. Today I walked in deep gratitude for all of them and the way their dynamic nudging has made me a different person.
Perhaps we should all have deeper gratitude for those people in our lives who have changed us more than they know, and maybe more than we even fully understand. We should revel in how our coastlines have changed as we embark on whatever lies ahead.
Orio to Zumaia
15.7 km/9.7 miles 24,957 Steps
Total: 58.5 km/36.3 miles 96,707 Steps
Time Keeps on Ticking
Camino Day 2 – September 23
Yesterday I was in hurry to get to where I was going – as we so often are. I was afraid that if I didn’t get to where I was supposed to be soon enough, I would not get one of the 14 beds at the albergue (hostel) where I was planning to stay. I was the second person there and had to wait three hours before they even opened the door.
One of the gifts of the Camino for me is time. I have ample time to get to where I’m going, and in the end, I don’t even have to get there. It made me reflect on how much of our lives seem to be spent worrying about getting to the next place we should be. It takes us away from fully enjoying and experiencing where we are. I realized that as I started out this morning.
I left early and strolled down the harbor in search of coffee. I sat and had a croissant with my cafe con leche and headed out in no hurry. It took some effort to be where I was and not worry about where I was going.
The rewards were immediate. I got see the sun rise over the port and tried to take in the beauty and wonder of the views throughout the day. I picked raspberries out of the bramble and savored their sweetness. I stopped and listened to the waves crashing on the rocks below. I allowed myself to stop and enjoy where in was without worrying about where I thought I needed to be.
We have ample time to get to where we are going, and we will likely be fine if we don’t even get there. If we are to choose joy, it is likely nearby and present as God always is. Today was a time to practice that. The reward was an unrushed experience of some of the wonders of creation.
We need stop worrying so much about what is next and live fully into the wonder that is right here.
Pasaia San Juan to Orio
23.8 km/14.8 miles 38,547 Steps
Total: 42.7 km/26.6 miles 71,849 Steps
The Mountain of Grief
Camino Day 1 – September 22
Grief is a journey we don’t want to start, and, if we do, we hope it ends quickly. As I started on the Camino de Santiago, I had many of the same feelings about the initial leg. The first day’s journey was the most challenging on my planned route. I slept the night before in France, just over the Spanish border, with a view of the mountain I was set to climb. I didn’t know how I was going to do it and I knew it was going to hurt.
As Sonia lay dying a year ago today, I didn’t know how I was going to do it, and I knew it was going to hurt.
I’ve learned that grief is a journey we must pass through, even if we want it to end quickly It is challenging and sometimes hard beyond belief. There are those moments where you don’t think you can take the next step. Some of the day’s journey felt that same way.
There are moments of grief that can be all encompassing but they are fleeting, as were the challenges today. Even in the midst of grief, there are joys to be found. It does not make the grief (or the joy) any less real.
As Mary Oliver so eloquently put it:
“We shake with joy, we shake with grief.
what a time they have, these two
housed as they are in the same body.”
Today was hard, emotionally and physically, yet there were wonders to behold. The view from the top, let me look back at where I had been, and forward to what lies ahead. The stunning sweep of God’s creation almost made me forgot how hard it was to get that perspective. The wonder of God’s love carried me through the last year and this day.
The challenges are not over, but neither is the grace and beauty that are to be found. I look forward to what lies ahead with an open heart and sore legs.
Hendaye, France to Pasaia San Juan, Spain
17 km/10.6 miles 33,302 Steps
Total: 17 km/10.6 miles 33,302 Steps
What is the Camino de Santiago?
The Camino de Santiago (The Way of St. James) is the name given to multiple pilgrimage routes that end at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. The cathedral is the supposed burial site of James, one of Jesus’ original 12 disciples. After the discovery of the relics of St. James in northern Spain in the 9th Century, the local bishop raised money to begin construction of the cathedral. Pilgrims began coming there in the 10th Century, and in 1492, Pope Alexander VI officially declared the Camino de Santiago one of the three great pilgrimages of Christendom along with Jerusalem and Rome. The pilgrimage has grown in popularity over the last few decades and is the most popular pilgrimage in Europe. In 2023, nearly half a million people completed at least 100 kilometers of the pilgrimage.
Which Route is John Taking?
John will be taking the northern route (Camino del Norte) considered the most beautiful of all the trails. He will be walking about 530 miles from Irun at the French/Spanish border to Santiago de Compostela. Most of the route is along the northern coast of Spain. October is a less crowded month on the Camino and cooler than the summer months. In October 2017 during his first sabbatical, John walked the Camino del Norte from Bilbao to Santiago de Compostela with his spouse.
Why walk the Camino de Santiago?
A pilgrimage is an opportunity for prayer and reflection and an opportunity to walk more closely with God. By leaving the concerns and cares of daily life behind, you are free to think and pray differently. It is also an opportunity to travel light – John’s backpack for the entire journey will weigh about 15 pounds. A saying on the Camino is that if anything is needed, “the Camino will provide” – an expression reflecting God’s caring abundance.
Why is John going now?
John has reflected that in the 20 years he spent with Sonia – his spouse who died last year – the month they spent on the Camino in 2017 was his favorite because of the time and prayer that they shared. He will begin walking on the anniversary of her death and will conclude the journey on All Saints Day – a feast of the church where the departed are remembered. John and Sonia also ended their 2017 pilgrimage on All Saints.
Why is he going to be gone so long?
The diocesan-mandated clergy compensation package includes a sabbatical provision which typically is three months every five years. It has been seven years since John’s last sabbatical, so he is overdue for this time of renewal. John could not figure out what to do constructively for a full sabbatical this year, so with the blessing of the Vestry and Bishop, he is taking a partial sabbatical now and the remainder some time in 2026.
What if I want to know how the trip is going?
John is planning to write daily reflections on the journey that will be shared on Instagram and Facebook. The same information (or more) will be available here on the St. Luke’s website.
What if I need to get in touch with John?
St. Luke’s is blessed with incredible clergy, staff, Vestry, and other leaders who will help the parish continue to thrive in John’s absence. canonically, the Wardens are in charge. Pastor Tristan is available for any pastor care concerns and worship leadership. Chris Corso, the Parish Administrator, and Pam Smith, the Business Manager, can handle all office-related matters. john will keep the parish in his daily prayers as well as any individual prayer concerns. Please email or text John any prayer concerns and and know – even in the absence of a response– that your concerns will be in his prayers. Most other e-mails will go unanswered until his return in November.