Dr. James Brooks
Our guest blogger is Dr. James R. Brooks, Lead Minister at First Christian Church, Edwardsville, Illinois. He has graciously agreed to share some of the highlights of walking the Camino in Spain during his sabbatical in the summer of 2018. Today is the (first) of his columns. You may follow James at his own blog, www.sacredstirrings.blog.
My many thanks to Dr. Carson for inviting me to share my experience on the Camino de Santiago. It was a liminal experience for me. I have discovered that pilgrimage is my desired spiritual discipline. Allow me to begin a tale. My mount of transfiguration.
I arrived in St Jean Pied de Port, France with a mix of excitement and frustration. I was a day late due to an airline strike in Paris. Yet, I was at my launching off point. I had arrived at a most glorious place.
The Camino de Santiago is a pilgrimage Christians have walked for over 1,000 years. The destination is Santiago de Compostela, where the remains of the apostle James the Greater are believed to be interred. It is a destination of great spiritual significance for millions of Christians today and yesteryear.
St Jean Pied de Port, France (SJPP) is a classic launching off point. It is at the base of the Pyrenees Mountains. From here, the pilgrim must walk over the mountain.
Having celebrated my 50th birthday party, and in the midst of a long term ministry with my congregation, I launched off overweight and out of shape. My pack was too heavy. My legs too soft. My heart and soul eager.
That may be a stereotype of a pre-liminal experience. Our heart and soul desire what our body and mind are yet prepared to reach. Thus the transfiguration I experience upon the mountain.
Before sunrise I set out through the traditional archway upon the Camino. Long story another time, I quickly ran out of water and energy. The lunch stop at Orrison was a brief respite. Atop the mountain, I was out of water and deeply dehydrated.
Some twelve hours after my start, I reached Roncesvalles, Spain. Stumbling into the lobby of my shelter, I horsely responded to my host that “yes” I needed help. Then I humbly hobbled behind her as she carried my backpack.
I spent another day in Roncesvalles recovering from dehydration. Beneath the clear blue sky and bright sunshine, my recovery began.
Wish I could share that I left Roncesvalles a new pilgrim. But it was actually days later in a distant city, Burgos, that I became the pilgrim I could be.
Leaving Roncesvalles, in the midst of a hail storm, walking to Zubiri, I knew. I knew I would finish this pilgrimage. I felt the onset of a new me as I accepted the reality of life as a pilgrim. A life sustained from beyond by the Lord God Almighty, life chaotic and confounding walking the creation provided. Amen.
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