Bueno Camino!
Psalm 23; Romans 8:31-39; Isaiah 35:1-10
Rev. Tiare L. Mathison, Pastor & Soul-Tender
I took the liberty of borrowing a text from Advent, Isaiah 35:1-10, for its images fit so well with my reflections on the Camino de Santiago. You will hear these words again on the 3rd Sunday of Advent, as we continue to reflect on ‘A Dawn Chorus’, our Advent Theme this year.
Listen, please listen.
May the words of my mouth…
There is an important Hebrew word in Isaiah 35 verse 9, . “...the redeemed shall walk there...”. The verbal root , ga’al - to redeem, creates the participle form, go el, the redeemed. It implies a generous sharing of family resources between the redeemed and the needy, as they are part of one family. What is at the heart of this text is this: Yahweh accepts this family obligation as His own. His healing and salvation of broken and wounded people does not come from a place of divine detachment. Rather, God’s incredibly generous restoration of people, and all of creation, is rooted in His very presence, in the center of this family. What we capture in the word, Emmanuel, God with us. In our suffering and in our joy, salvation has come.
Marilyn Robinson, a beautiful novel writer, and Christian, says, quote: "I have spent my life watching, not to see beyond the world, but merely to see, great mystery, what is plainly before my eyes. I think the concept of transcendence is based on a misreading of creation. With all respect to heaven, the scene of the miracle is here, among us.” unquote.
I got to live there. For 5 weeks. A highway named Camino de Santiago. A Holy Way, with many different paths, for more than a 1,000 years. A place where weak hands and feeble knees tromp along, step by step, on the holy ground of pilgrim footsteps who have gone this way before. Supported by the many, many folk along the way who offer a cheery, ‘Bueno Camino when they see you walking with a backpack’; a glass of cold water, a bench to rest. The way to walk - clapping story.
Then she said, “Bueno Camino.”
Called to the Camino, I took months to plan a route, find a travel agent to do the tedious work of the search for the best priced airline ticket, many trips to REI for shoes, socks, shorts, shirts, intimate wear, backpack fittings - what a grace note that Jeff works there!
I trained - first time with the backpack, I carried a 15 lb bag of dog food… walked 8 miles with it. I walked all over Seattle - to Magnolia, the CD, the ID, Rainier Beach, Lake Washington, Golden Gardens, to get to a comfort zone of 12-15 miles a day, 3 miles an hour. An 18 lb pack, 4 of those pounds water in a Platypus, the mouth hose over my left shoulder. I carried an antique cotton kitchen towel I had bought on my last visit with my son, Isaac, in the humid summer weather of the Twin Cities. It is my sweat cloth and my prayer shawl. Every time I use it I remember my son.
All I needed was on my back. Food is provided at the monastery or bought at a grocery store or cafe; I ate lots of French bread with this delicious smashed tomato, red pepper sauce and lots of Tortilla de Patatas, a potato omelet. And lots of Cafe con leche, por fa vor.
Beds would be available at the Alburgues, basically adult hostels, bunkbeds, shared bathrooms, once in a while, a washing machine. Every week I chose to stay in a pension to have my own bed and bath. In the past, reservations were not necessary for a bed. Yet the pandemic shut down the alburgues and many of them have not re-opened, at least on the Del Norte Route. This was the season when us pilgrims finally got out and there were lots of us. Often, it came to be a race for the bed each day. I always lost to the younger ones. booking.com became a close friend.
I’m not a backpacker. Well, let’s say I wasn’t backpacker before this calling. Bueno Camino.
Alma Trabajo: soul work.
“Get quiet, listen, be fed.” My motto for the Camino. I chose to walk alone, in part, to be relieved of the need for conversation. Solitude and the quiet grandeur of forest, village, town, dirt path, green hillside, the Bay of Biscay, long sandy beaches, and some very steep hillsides, is a gift box wrapped in beautiful handmade paper, silk ribbons flowing off, with a simple card, restoration.
The pandemic took so much away - community, connection, ability to travel, to see family and friends, let alone the great weight of grief for so many people died; in our country especially, because of our botched politics re: public health, and all over the world, a death count so inaccurate. You probably know this already, but I am an empath - I feel things and see things before I think about things. In other words I start in my gut. Surrounded by loss and grief: Stoneway Avenue desolate, no cars, no people, no baby carriages, no screamers, nobody, just shelter in place, the silence a roar. The advent of Zoom worship, a lovely thing that I dislike. Frankly, I think we all need restoration, the whole wide world. Bueno Camino.
Even this simple phrase is so evocative: a blessing for good walking. Strangers speaking to strangers, connecting on the holy highway. I hardly ever plugged into music or a podcast as I walked. I was so taken by the simplicity of living life at a walking pace. (Pause) A walking pace.
I got to see cow dogs working the herd; sheep nipped at the heels to get them moving; a goose walking down the road followed by a duck; seriously! I am taken by a particular curved stone wall, at a glance I am right back there. It is 1,000 years old. Some kind of cement block, with grout that lasts.
I am loved. This is where I first heard these words about 2, 2.5 weeks into the trek. A sunny day, walking alone, around noon, 9 miles done, 5 to go. “Tiare, you are loved.” That’s it. The complete deal. Irrational, yet unforgettable.
Not long after this, I came down a hillside and there was a cafe, with a number of pilgrims sitting outside drinking cafe con leche. They were a group from Switzerland, formed on Facebook, to walk the Camino for a week or so. Our paths had crossed a # of times.
One of the men came up to me and said;
“Are you fine?”
I thought, this might be a translation problem. I said,
“I’m good, gracias.” And smiled.
“Are you walking alone?”
“I am.”
“Do you feel safe?”
“I do. I live in a big city in the US. We have 400 million guns, more than people. It’s safe out here.” We smiled at each other.
As a sexual assault survivor of gun violence, this is a remarkable statement for me to make. For 5 weeks I was not afraid. (Pause). Bueno Camino.
In Toni Morrison’s incredible novel, Beloved, Baby Suggs is the quote,“uncalled, unloved, unanointed”, preacher for her slave community. Her sermons are always rooted in loving your flesh, your heart, your mind and your body; to understand yourself not as your overseer does, rather, in the beauty of God’s creation of you. Unquote
Walking every day for 30 days tested the limits of my body, my flesh, my heart, my mind, my soul. There were moments when I would say out loud, “This is crazy! What am I doing walking 400 miles? Nuts!”
I was freed from obligations to re-discover who I am. As Psalm 91 says, “You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to Yahweh, “My Refuge and my Fortress, my God, in whom I will trust, for She will command Her angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.” The angels were all around.
The first monastery I stayed in was in Laredo. Many of the churches had closed down in the pandemic, never to open again. This one held a pilgrim’s mass at 7pm, dinner at 9.. The service was led by some nuns singing for about 20 minutes, no priest in sight. I thought, “How are they going to have mass?” Then down the side aisle came a man dressed in casual clothes smiling quietly; he goes up onto the altar and through the back door to the sacristy. In a few minutes he comes out in his robes, ah the priest!
He preached, there was eucharist, they made us all feel welcomed at the table, in Jesus’ Name. Then the head nun, with the priest behind her, called us pilgrims to the front. There were 6 of us - English, German, French, Spanish. She said, “This moment is just for you.” Tears came to my eyes for it seemed like a word for the ages - “this moment, this very moment is just for you.”’
She proceeded into the blessing prayer for pilgrims, first in Spanish, then in French, then in German, finally it was time for English. She handed the prayer book to me. Bueno Camino.