A bit excessive

Many times over the past two months, as I’ve had time to sit and think about all that the Lord has done in my life, I have thought to myself, “It’s really a bit excessive.” And yet that is His love for me. And for you too. It is excessive.

While I was in Santiago de Compostela, I was able to take the bus trip that I spoke about in my previous post. It brought me to two places that are of particular importance to conclude the Camino. The first was Finisterre (translated means ‘the end of the earth’) on the Atlantic Coast. This is the place where pilgrims traditionally would walk after Santiago to burn their clothes as a sign of a new beginning. The burning of clothes is now greeted by hefty fines from the local police, but the visit alone was a time of mediation on beginning again. From the heights of the cliff, one gazes out over the wide open ocean. In a revelation to St. Faustina, Our Blessed Lord describes his mercy as like an ocean. Immense. Peaceful. Powerful. Beautiful. I was reduced to silence and a quiet gaze in the direction of home. A new beginning.

From Finisterre we travelled to Muxia. I heard it was beautiful but soon found out that it was much more than that. According to tradition, St. James has walked across Spain and had made only two disciples by the time he reached the coast at Muxia. It was there that the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to him and told him that his work there was completed and to return to The Holy Land to see her once more before she departed from earthly life. And so he returned. Before the days of planes, trains, and automobiles, when pilgrims reached Santiago de Compostela or Finisterre, they simply had to turn around and walk back home via the same route they took to arrive; the arrival in Santiago was the halfway point of their full pilgrimage. As I think about it, I realize the day I was in Muxia was the halfway point from the time I left home and the time I’ll return. Well played, Lord. Well played.

From Santiago I took a plane to Naples, Italy. I arrived there on Tuesday and on a Wednesday I got up and hopped on a train that would bring me close to my goal: the Shrine of St. Philomena in Mugnano del Cardinale. The train stops a mile or so away from the town, so I got to feel like a pilgrim for a little bit again as I walked to the Shrine. I’m blessed to stay here in their guesthouse and to spend five days here. I was able to offer Holy Mass on the ‘miracle altar’ on the day I arrived. It is called such because numerous miracles have taken place before that altar, indicated by the many ‘ex voto’ plaques there saying “Thank you Saint Philomena” in a variety of languages. The greater joy came yesterday when I was able to offer Holy Mass on the altar that actually contains her relics. Another bucket list item checked off, but it is much more than that. It is the fulfillment of a desire to visit her shrine that has resided in my heart for 14 years now and is finally fulfilled in dramatic fashion. It is one more sign of God’s providential care for me. His love is excessive, after all.

As I continue to sit before my dear patroness, know that all of you are in my prayers being lifted up through her intercession. May her prayers for us rain down an abundance of graces, she who is a great Wonder-Worker even in our day.

St. Philomena, pray for us!

I’m Starting My Camino.

It is finished. I started walking over 790 kilometers away from this place 31 days ago. Most days during the Camino it seemed like it would never end. And yet here I sit at a restaurant in Santiago de Compostela looking at a little checkmark next to “Walk the Camino” in the Bucket List section of my to do list.

A friend with whom I walked many miles in recent weeks asked me how I feel. I feel... everything. I feel victorious at the accomplishment, regret for the things I could have done better, grateful at the ability to do it and for the people I’ve met, sad that it is over, relieved that it is over, let down that there wasn’t a great spiritual experience at the end (the cathedral is being worked on and is mostly plastic and scaffolding), awe at how the Lord works in so many little details, peaceful because of God’s healing grace, overwhelmed because of the love and support poured out so generously by so many people who read this and comment/text/call, and much much more. Thankfully I have a few days to sit and process it all with the Lord. 

To recap the last few days - I arrived in Sarria on Sunday afternoon. Sarria is one of the big spot where many pilgrims start the Camino because it is just beyond the 100kilometer mark required to receive the Compostela paperwork. I knew it would get busier on the Camino and tried to prepare for it but struggled with the new reality. On Monday I was greeted on the trail by fresh-footed people with no backpacks basically skipping along. Some listened to music on their Bluetooth speakers connected to their phones, groups of school kids chanted and sang randomly, and clumps of people began to block the paths and fill up the roadside stops for food and drink and bathrooms. All of these things aggravated me. As I walked along fighting the superiority complex of a pilgrim having walked 25 days and having the limp to prove it, I reflected on Matthew 20:1-16 when Jesus tells the parable of the laborers being sent to labor in the vineyard at the start of the day, midday, mid afternoon, almost at the end of the day. There we were, pilgrims starting 800 away, pilgrims starting 112km, and others somewhere in between, yet at the end we all get the same piece of paper to say we walked the Camino. At first I felt angry that these new pilgrims get to say “I walked the Camino” when I had blisters for four times as long as they were on the trail. Then I began to reflect on how my superiority had its holes too - taxi rides are frowned upon by many a Camino purist and yet I’ve taken several along the way. Maybe they are tempted to think the same of me when I say i taxi’d past one of the major sites along the walk. Then I remembered what so many people discussed online and what the books all point to - each person’s Camino is their own. My Camino is mine. My experiences are mine. The Camino of other people is not mine to judge or critique. I knew that I could have done the 100km minimum trek myself, but I chose not to. I made my Camino and am grateful for the experiences along the way. Others have theirs and I Hope are equally grateful. That said, I think I got the better part because the time spent with the Lord and with others for the last month of this walk have been absolutely amazing. I don’t think I would have gotten nearly as much from the shortened timeline. 

One of the sayings on the Camino is that the Camino actually really begins when you get to Santiago. So, my new Camino begins tomorrow with a trip to Finisterre (a city on the coast whose names means ‘end of the earth’) and Muxia and a few other sites along the way. Finisterre is the pace where pilgrims traditionally would walk after Santiago and burn their clothes as a sign of starting a new way of life. While burning clothes isn’t permitted any longer, it is still a great symbolic gesture to make the trek, even if by bus. I’ll spend a few days here in Santiago and on Tuesday will fly to Naples, Italy, where I will be spending a week at the shrine of my favorite saint, Saint Philomena. Offering Mass at her shrine is another Bucket List item, so I might get two items checked off in one week! From there I will visit the Shrine of Our Lady of Knock in Ireland and spend some time with the Benedictine monks of Silverstream Priory. A good bit of traveling (not by foot!) still awaits me before my return to the U.S.A. I look forward to this time great anticipation because I have worked my body hard these recent weeks and now it is time for my soul. Know that you and your intentions will remain in my prayers before the tabernacle in the days ahead. May He hear and heed your cry. 

St. James, pray for us!

St. Philomena, pray for us!

Our Lady of Knock, pray for us!

Hello, Stage Three

Time seems to move at a much slower pace on the Camino, probably because I’m moving at a much slower pace too. The main reason I asked my bishop for this sabbatical was that I could see in very concrete ways how my fast paced, approach to life and ministry was killing me and my vocation. I could have gone for further studies or some academic program on this sabbatical but I knew that what I needed was a time to simply stop trying to meet another goal or complete another project. Granted, finishing the Camino is a big goal, but the day to day is rather simple: wake up, get ready to walk, walk, stop, rest, pray, eat & drink, sleep, repeat. Though the days are very demanding, the pace is exactly what my soul needs. A brother priest told me that his sabbatical was ‘healing’. I am starting to understand what he meant. Thanks be to God.

The past few days have been good ones. I have been able to get some good mileage on my feet with minimal problems and have enjoyed a change of scenery from the endless fields of the meseta to the rolling hills and greenery that mark the approach to Santiago. In addition this, one wonderful thing happened rather unexpectedly. A little over a week ago I thought I had lost my rosary that I’ve carried with me nearly everywhere for the last 14 years. I know I need to not be overly attached to earthly things, but this rosary had many prayers and memories wrapped up in it. After a few days of searching and searching again in the places it could be (there are few places when you literally have one bag and two pockets), I resigned myself to this reality and bought a new rosary at the Cathedral in Leon. The Lord gave me peace with it being gone and I continued on the trail with a new set of beads. A couple of days ago I reached opened a pocket on my bag that I rarely use because I only had a backup pen in it and as I reached in to grab the pen I felt that familiar feel of my rosary beads. I didn’t lose it! It brought a great smile to my face and my prayers were full of gratitude that evening.

The next day I walked to Astorga and was looking for a place to offer Holy Mass. the Cathedral only had morning Masses but I was told of a chapel nearby that had an evening Mass. I hobbled over to the chapel, which was merely a block away, and went inside. I turned to the sanctuary to find Eucharistic Adoration taking place! God’s Blessings continue to pour forth! And what’s more, it was a convent of cloistered Poor Clare Sisters and the Sisters were there and soon began praying the rosary with the community. The Mass itself was wonderful. The priest’s reverence was inspiring to behold and you could tell he was truly praying every word. The Sisters lifted up their voices to heaven and I couldn’t help but wonderful if the congregation knew how truly blessed they were. The Mass was offered for a new bishop for their diocese and my prayer was that this man or one who loved Our Lord like him might be named their shepherd. It was truly a night of grace beyond what I had hoped.

Yesterday and today brought us to the highest elevation on the Camino and to the famed Iron Cross. The climb and descent were difficult but made worth it by the views that surrounded us. The Iron Cross is a cross on a large pole surrounded by rocks. The rocks of varying sizes are typically carried by pilgrims representing the sins they want to repent of, the things they need to let go of, and burdens given to Christ to handle. I placed my (far too small) rock on the pile of rocks and offered Lauds (Morning Prayer). Today being an Ember Day, the first Psalm was Psalm 51 - the psalm of David’s repentance for his sins. Standing beside the pile of rocks I noted the breviary reflection that this psalm is recited at the foot of the cross in repentance for our own sins. What an appropriate place to pray it - at the foot of the Iron Cross, surrounded by signs of sin and repentance. Liturgical Providence found in moments like that continue to show me that Our Lord is mindful of us in small ways often beyond what we are mindful of. Today I knew for that moment that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Taxi rides, long days, short days, rest days. They were all taken into account, a sign of His infinite love for us.

They said that part three of the Camino is the spiritual part and that seems to be happening in rather impressive form. The Lord is not to be outdone! So, I continue to keep my eyes on Santiago. I am in the single digits as far as days before I conclude this pilgrimage. I don’t know how but I am grateful.

One Last Pit Stop (hopefully)

Reaching the geographic halfway point a few days ago was a notable point in the journey and it was neat to get a document marking the occasion. My camera is being weird and not focusing well closeup, so here’s the best photo I can manage to get.

After reaching Sahagun, the halfway city, I decided to take a taxi up to Leon, the next major city on the Camino and the last one until reaching the final goal of Santiago. I figured a couple of days rest for my feet and a good bit of extra time for prayer for my soul would be a great help as I make the final push to Santiago. My rest has been good and the cathedral here is quite edifying. Sadly, many of the churches and Cathedrals along the Camino have become more like museums - or are actual museums. Over and again I’ve seen ancient side altars have been removed, the altar crosses on the many altars consolidated to a decorative display, chalices put in cases never to be used again for the Holy Sacrifice, and the dwelling place of God turned into a history and architecture lesson. Thankfully the cathedral here in Leon has opened itself to visitors to show the beauty of its art and architecture but without separating them from the faith that is their foundation. Altars still intact, even if not currently in regular use, show the importance of faith at every turn. The hours spent there in Our Lord’s Eucharistic Presence have been a true joy.

Tomorrow I’ll hit the trail once again following the little shells and arrows that show the way. This is one of the more remarkable things about the Camino: that you can literally walk to the other side of the country only by following arrows and shell markers. I’ve reflected often on the way that these arrows are much like the voice of God. The arrows are always there, but the pilgrim must be attentive so as to see them. If I am caught up in myself and not attentive, I can (and have) easily gone astray. And the markers come in a whole variety of forms: metal shells in the ground, sign posts, concrete markers, spray paint on building or streets, and simple posts with a shell on them. Much the same can be said of the Lord who speaks continuously but requires attentiveness to hear and speaks in many and varied ways so that each of us might come to recognize his voice. As I continue on the Camino, recognizing the markers has become much easier. And as I continue to follow the Lord’s voice, I am increasingly able to know more what the Lord desires of me in the moment. Who knew that some yellow paint would cause me to think so frequently about the life of faith and prayer?!

As I hit the road tomorrow, I set my eyes on the goal: Santiago de Compostela. If all goes well, 12-13 days will find me walking into the plaza of the Church of St. James. I am excited at the prospect, but know that I still have some intense roads ahead. Thank you all for your prayers that keep my feet moving along the way. May the Good Lord reward you! My prayers are with you too.

St. James, pray for us!

Oh, (almost) Half Way There!

I feel like I’ve been walking forever, like the road has to end soon and Santiago will be there before my eyes. And yet tomorrow I’ll reach Sahagún, the official halfway point of the Camino Frances that I’m walking. Halfway. To be honest, I’m ready to be done. The Camino is hard. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. For that reason I know it will be fruitful for me in the weeks ahead even as it already has been over these last 17 days. But who enjoys the Cross when you’re on it? Not I, says this pilgrim.

A recap of the last few days may be in order. Since my previous post, the title of which apparently caught some folks attention, I’ve gotten to the Meseta, the open plains part of the Camino. It began a few days back when I hit the trail in Tardajos. I began to see some of the church bell towers decorated by the nests of the great storks that live in the area and enjoyed a good walk through the hills. The meseta in some spots is a rather wide open place with little shade, very few trees, and towns far apart from each other. That’s where I found myself in 49 degree weather with a steady strong wind when I got to use my rain gear for the first time. Pulling on my poncho and pressing forward for a good hour or so, I arrived in the next town barely able to feel my hands and hoping to find a good cup of hot coffee and a place to lay my head. I found both in a great little albergue right on the edge of town. So more time resting with the Lord at the parish church helped warm the body and also the heart. It was a rough day and I was grateful for the open door of the church.

A Poncho on the Padre

The next morning I set out, feeling pretty good and ready to take on the (rain-free) day. There was a pleasant walk in the morning where all of us pilgrims walked one behind the other like ants on the roadside as we made our way to the next town. It was neat to see pilgrims walking quietly with 20-30 yards of space in between all there for various reasons and seeking different things, yet walking in each others footsteps. Passing through the next town, we saw before us what Louisiana eyes would call a mountain. Motivated by Jocko Willink and his Extreme Leadership audio book, I made my ascent with relative ease and felt a huge sense of accomplishment when I arrived at the top. The view was incredible, especially seeing the terrain I had just covered. The other side greeted us with an 18% grade descent! Talk about get the blisters aching! The descent ended quickly and the rest of the walk was rather enjoyable until the last couple of miles when the gravel road became dirt path with large stones embedded in it, making it really hard on the feet. The family-run albergue was pleasant and they had a cat! I inquired about a Mass for the day, being a small town, and they said there was no Mass. I went to the church and was delighted to find that there was a pilgrimage group coming in to offer Mass! The Lord provides for His children in the most unexpected of ways! That night I met Michelle and Jennifer, a mother and daughter from California, whom I have become fast friends with.

A view from the top of the ‘mountain’

The next morning I enjoyed a cup (more like a bowl) of coffee and some toast at the table accompanied by the house cat. The cat was perched on the table but shooed away by the owners, so it kindly took a seat in a chair as if expecting to be served a plate along with the rest of us. It was a great delight to many of us. I set out along with Michelle and Jennifer and we made our way along the senda, a pilgrim walkway that parallels the highway for miles. It was an enjoyable walk as we saw a herd of sheep making their way to green pastures, a couple of geese greeting folks at an albergue entrance, and some beautiful blue skies with a nice breeze pushing us along. We dined on some delicious grilled sausage that reminded me of home and has me looking forward to some good food come December when I return home.

Today was a pretty good day as well. The blisters still bother me a bit and some pain in my foot other than blisters has me slowing down for a couple of days to make sure I don’t push too hard and hurt myself. Overall, things are well, but I am sure looking forward to my additional pilgrimages to the Shrine of Saint Philomena and Our Lady of Knock next month and to my return home the great United States. Until then, this pilgrim will keep on walking and praying for all of you good people taking your time to read this.

St. James, pray for us!