Camino: Home

 

Home.

Home.

It's something I've thought a lot about while I was on Camino. I didn't intend to. I was pretty focused on forgiveness. That was my intended work.

But the Camino knows better what the pilgrim needs.

I did a great deal of work on forgiveness, as a matter of fact. I even entered into the process of "The Camino Holy Year Plenary Indulgence" not because I care about or believe in purgatory much less the institutional church's claim and promise to keep you out of that alleged place of punishment.

Please note: I mean no disrespect to those who do believe in Purgatory and/or Plenary Indulgences. I entered into the process as a form of spiritual discipline that might be good for my soul no matter the intended outcome of the institutional church.

If you recall, in order to get this Plenary Indulgence in the Xaobeo Holy Year, one had to:

1. Complete the last 100 miles of The Camino.
2. Say the Apostle's Creed, the Our Father, and a Prayer of Intention for the Pope.
3. Receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation and Eucharist.
4. Enter the Holy Door (only open during the Xaobeo - Latin for James - Holy Year which falls every 5, 6, 5, and 11 years when the Feast of St. James - July 25th - falls on a Sunday) of The Cathedral of Santiago de Compostella within 15 days of having made a good confession, and having received absolution and communion.

I did all that plus all the internal spiritual work required and it was a good and a holy and an important thing.

But, this idea of 'home' kept visiting my thoughts.

Perhaps that is because that is one of the questions you ask and are likewise asked by fellow pilgrims on the Camino:

"And where is home for you?"

I admit that was a bit startled when two very different people at very different times answered, "Well, I'm from _____ (one was Australia, the other was France), but I feel most at home here, on El Camino."

I confess that I was startled because that sentiment resonated deeply with me. I have come to understand that I feel most at home while on the journey.

Perhaps that's why I've done The Camino twice. Both Coastal Routes: El Norte, and Coastal Portuguese.

Perhaps this is why of all the places I've lived in my life, here at Llangollen is where I've lived the longest but from which I've done the most traveling: Hawai'i. Thailand. Cambodia. Viet Nam. Scotland. Palestine. Egypt. Spain. Portugal.

Perhaps, here at Llangollen, I feel most secure so that I can be at home on the journey.

Perhaps I am more in touch now, especially with the work of Hospice, with the fragile, limited, transitory nature of our time here on what Eucharistic Prayer C in the '79 BCP calls "this fragile earth, our island home."

Perhaps 'home' and 'journey' are just metaphors for the spiritual life, the place of 'soul', and the place of 'work'. The place where our essence and purpose lie within us, and the place where we live out who we are and why we are here.

Here's the truth of it all: I am home. Now. I was home. Then. I am more at home now than I was before I left. And, I know I have many more miles to walk before I am finally home.

That's about as deep as I care to get this morning on Facebook.

Oh, except this: This artwork I've posted is a gift from Marley Camino to all of the Pilgrims who walk the Camino with her. The artist is Zamo Tamay, an Irish ink and paper artist from Belfast who has been commissioned to do this work.

At the base of the image of the Cathedral de Santiago de Compostella are these words: "Now everything is near. I have made wings for my feet."

I do not know the source - perhaps Zamo himself? - but they are said to be a spiritual reflection on Psalm 91, which some Rabbis teach that Moses composed while ascending into the cloud hovering over Mount Sinai, at which time he recited the psalm as protection from the angels of destruction.

Others say it is a reflection of the poem "Wasteland" by T.S. Elliott, which some say is a testimony to the enmeshed pattern of the human spirit and human culture - or the place we call our earthly "home".

Either way, the "wings for our feet" is a metaphor for faith. When we have faith, everything is near. The journey is our home - along with the place where we hang our hats.

So, well, there it is, then. Perhaps another cup of coffee is the most necessary thing now.

Off I go into a day where one does the things one does when one is "back home": Laundry. Relaxing. Reflecting. Coffee. And then, more laundry.

Ultreia et Suseia!

(Note: This is one of the more ancient greetings on The Camino, besides "Buen Camino". One pilgrim would greet another with "Ultreia " which means "Beyond!" The other pilgrim would respond, "Suseia" which means "And higher!" However, experts also say that the Calixtine (check it out) Code also used the word Ultreia to mean “Alleluia.” And so, for some "Ultreia et Suseia" was also an expression of hope that they would meet up again, here or perhaps one day in heaven. It is sometimes called "The Pilgrim's Flamenco Song.")