El Camino
by Patrick Pfister |
|
|
|
The call to pilgrimage usually sounds as a cry from the heart. People in crisis—divorce, the death of a loved one, physical illness or spiritual malaise—pack all their faith into a bag and surrender themselves to the road. Many set off when they are at the end of their rope, when there is nowhere to turn and no answers in sight. It is said that when all else has failed and all options have closed, that is the moment to begin. On pilgrimage, one leaves behind the noise and blur of everyday life. It is an inner and outer journey in which obstacles are faced and surmounted, a time of silence, prayer and meditation. Above all, it aspires to be a transformative journey to a sacred center. Walking the Camino, you cannot help but be aware that, over the last ten centuries, millions (no exaggeration) of pilgrims seeking guidance and redemption have tramped the exact same path as you. It becomes like a mirror. You see you are walking straight into the reflection of all your weaknesses and bad habits, sins and accumulated karma, all the fear, doubt and worry that prevent you from becoming who you are. Slowly, you begin to realize that slippery rocks and steep mountain ascents are not the only obstacles you are going to face. The Camino de Santiago is slow but not easy. Perseverance does not magically descend from above, encircling pilgrim heads in rings of light. Trial and adversity pave the way as surely as stones and fallen branches. In the hostels at night, pilgrims sit with their swollen feet in cold baths of rock salt and vinegar. If devotion builds on the Camino, it does so one blister at a time. |
The Spanish may ridicule Picasso as a cubist charlatan, laugh out loud at tales of the Cid as drivel for children, and refer to the great cathedrals of Burgos or Toledo as glorified examples of slave labor. Yet rarely does one hear a nasty word about the Camino de Santiago and the same irony could easily be loosed on it. Most guidebooks point out that the cadaver of St. James probably never touched Spanish soil and that the entire sacred pilgrimage was nothing more than a clever marketing plan launched by the Church in the 10th Century and maintained by the Minister of Tourism in the 20th. However, such comments tend to come from "foreign experts." The Spanish themselves seem to understand the Camino as a rite of passage, a signatura pendiente that must one day be undertaken. People who possess not a drop of religious faith--the same who would squirm at the writings of St. Teresa or poetry of St. John--put on a more serious face when it comes to the Camino. | ||
|
|