Mike McClenahan

Camino de Santiago Day Thirty-seven and Thirty-eight: We made it!

2018-06-18T13:50:00.001-07:00

A Salceda to Santiago de Compostela

We decided to walk 22km to the outskirts of Santiago and walk the last few kilometers in the morning.

Neither of us could sleep, so we got up, packed our mochilas for the last time and walked to the old city at 5am. It was dark and rather than being joined by other pilgrims, we passed a few late night partiers and a woman walking her dog. It's not the entrance into Santiago we pictured, but we were all alone in the Praza do Obradoiro in front of the Cathedral.

It was June 17—thirty-eight days and 780 kilometers since we started May 11, in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port.

We were two of the first ten pilgrims in line for our compostelas, which meant we got tickets for a free lunch at the historic parador. Peter from Australia showed up and introduced us to Michael and Linda from Washington DC, who also got the lucky tickets.

Peter also knew Ted and Darlene from Winnipeg, and gave them contact, since my phone died and we couldn't contact them. But we enjoyed breakfast together, sharing our thoughts and feelings about each of our pastoral sabbaticals on the Camino. We first met on Day Seven walking into Logroño—a month ago—and they have remained one day ahead along the Camino. We are grateful we had a chance to reconnect.

There's no way to plan who you'll meet in Santiago. We are so glad we "bumped into" so many.

Elna and Jolie from South Africa. They decided to walk the Camino together. We are inspired by their enthusiasm and friendship. We ate dinner with them in Puente la Reina in the first week and hadn't seen them since.

We checked into the Hospedería San Martín Pinario, a beautifully restored Monastery, and went to the mass at noon. It was packed. One of the priests read a roll call of all the pilgrims who checked into the pilgrims office in the morning—naming the nationality and the starting point of their Camino.

The gospel reading was Jesus' parable about the kingdom of God like a mustard seed that starts so small and becomes a tree where birds make their nests. The priest's homily addressed the interactions we have on the Camino, with others and most importantly with God. That God is growing faith in us so that we can continue on our own Caminos, without fear or worry, and contribute to his kingdom in the world.

We went out into the praza to watch pilgrims.

We met Rocco from Italy on Day One walking up the pass from Saint Jean. It was his friend who gave me a cube of parmigiano-reggiano wrapped in tin foil. It was like the emergency food kit for Italians! Every time they saw us along the way they'd shout California! and I'd shout Italiani!

While we were talking with Philipp from Austria, Gia found us. Gia was in our youth group in Moraga and we haven't seen each other since her high school graduation 22 years ago. She knew I was on the Camino from Facebook, and was hoping we might finish at the same time as her husband, who finished the Camino in 18 days! It was a delightful joy to spend an hour together with them and their children catching up on life.

Guillermo and his family from Argentina.

In the morning we got haircuts and ran into Ingrid from Norway. We talked about how surprising, and amazing, our bodies are to be stretched and healed and keep on going. We talked about the beauty of the mountains—forests, smells, birds, rivers, frogs, cows and all the different trees and flowers. There are many churches on the Camino, but we agreed that nature itself was a sanctuary for us.

On Day Two we met Liye, a thirty something from Korea. We spent several days walking and talking together. She was on the Camino alone after quitting her job. Her faith is important to her and we talked about how much she loves to worship and it makes her feel so happy. One day we prayed the morning prayer with her. Along the way, she picked up a Camino friend, a Korean woman about our age who was walking alone.

We lost track of each other until today. We had lunch together and talked about our Caminos. Liye says she has so much more confidence (I can do anything now!) and gratitude, even for the painful aspects of life. We all felt like God orchestrated this miracle of seeing each other on our last day.

Now we rest. We have a few weeks left in Spain to reflect on our Camino. And there is so much to reflect on and be grateful for.

Amy and I walked this together. We walk at different paces, have different needs for people and alone time. This week we will celebrate 33 years of marriage and we have more of the journey ahead of us.
Wonderful times of shared experience, learning and fun.
Also times of silence, frustration and disappointment.
Interactions with people and entering into their stories together.
Awe of the beauty of nature—the drama of clouds and the extravagance of wild flowers that seem to be there just for us.
Time alone and together in prayer and worship. Sometimes we felt welcomed into a sacred space, sometimes the forms and language kept us at a distance.
Some of the most spiritual places were not in churches or at mass, but around the table and a meal where strangers became friends.

I'm grateful for the time to have been on this Camino and pray the experience continues to ferment in our minds and hearts.

Camino de Santiago Day Thirty-four to Thirty-six

2018-06-18T07:08:00.001-07:00

Gonzar to Melide to A Salceda

Today we completed two 30km days in a row and we are within 25km of Santiago. We've walked over 700km from Saint Jean Pied de Port, France, for more than a month.

And after two days of rain, the sun came out and the sky was clear and blue.

We stopped in Melide for the night where we found an amazing vegetarian-vegan restaurant Casa Alongo run by Concha. She was happy to speak English and share her passion for fresh, local food. After a Camino of meat and typical pilgrim meals, it was a great find. She served us grilled vegetables with avocado aioli and tostada de pulpo--Galician bread toast with local cheese and octopus.

One bar along the road has bottled their own La Peregrina lager and invites pilgrims to write something on the bottle and decorate the patio.

We walked our second to last day with friends we met a week ago--John, Norbert and Agnes. We talked about our families and what it's like to make friends on the Camino.

Everyone is a blank slate and you can start a conversation with where are you from, where did you start or where are you going, and never get to what do you do. You realize everyone has a story--they are running from something or to something. The majority of people are kind and generous and appreciate acts of kindness.

And as different as we are from each other, we have a common goal of completing the Camino.

These three found each other early on became Camino friends--walking together, supporting and encouraging each other--and were finishing the Camino together. We met just outside Sarria and had dinner and breakfast together. It wasn't till breakfast that one asked what I did for work. When we bumped into each other a few days later, one said he had me pegged as a CEO and another was convinced I was a architect.

But I didn't know that night that he was a retired British officer, and son of a general who has served all over the world. He told some great stories of time with Prince Philip and the Queen and his rank order favorites in the royal family. We had the time to talk about grandchildren and faith and gratitude for all our blessings.

I walked with Norbert and talked about each of our two sons, faith and the political climate in Germany and the US. Amy and I ran into him multiple times in the previous days because he was slowed down with sciatic pain. We would spot him, stop and ask how he was. Amy empathized with the pain and encouraged him to rest. He was in pain but determined to walk slow and finish in Santiago.

We stopped for the night in A Salceda. Everyone is planning their last kilometers into Santiago. Some are making it in one 25km stretch and others will stop a short distance from Santiago so they can enter in the morning, get their compostela certificate and make mass in the cathedral at noon.

It's all about preparing ourselves physically and spiritually for finishing well after five weeks of the journey.

Camino de Santiago Day Thirty-two and Thirty-three

2018-06-13T22:56:00.001-07:00

Samos to Barbadelo to Gonzar

It continued to rain through the night and into the morning. We left Samos and walked to Sarria along beautiful paths following the Río Sarria.

We took my iPhone to the phone repair shop in Sarria. We waited three hours (through the siesta lunch break) to find out my phone is dead. Muerto. We transferred my SIM card to Amy's phone and downloaded my apps and email, and then walked to Barbadelo.

The Camino and pilgrimage is about traveling light and letting go, trusting God and his timing. But I like it better when I can decide what to let go of, to plan my losses and think through the consequences.

I dropped my phone in Burgos and didn't anticipate walking through all the rain this past week. It was wet through and through. Muerto. What pictures are on the cloud, and what else have I lost? I won't know till we are back in Barcelona in two weeks.

While we were waiting we got the newsfeed that Anthony Bourdain committed suicide last Friday. 61 years old and one of the most successful iconic food and travel journalists. Muerto.

We watched his Barcelona and San Sebastián shows while we're in Spain because he always finds the authentic, local food and tells a great story. His pintxo crawl through San Sebastián was one the best meal (in five parts) I've ever had.

We love watching him because he interviews people with great empathy and curiosity–speaking his own truth and letting others tell theirs. I love people's stories and I was always curious about his own story, which he always told with a naked, dark and brutal honesty.

He also found great hole-in-the-wall restaurants or shacks like the one in Budapest we took a thirty minute bus to for the largest (hubcap size) schnitzel and French fries.

Last night we shared a meal at our pensión with two Germans, a Brit, a Frenchman and two Canadians. Casa de Carmen sits on top of a hill above Sarria with a wonderful breeze that dries our clothes on the line.

Pedro, Carmen's husband, welcomed us, showed us our room and served us dinner–caldo gallego and ensalada mixta. He also served us breakfast–bread and coffee with a fresh cow cheese and membrillo.

No rain this morning, just a cool breeze and fog as we walked through more farmland and villages.

One home has a whole spread of food and drinks for a donativo. Tables were full and we enjoyed the home cooked beignets, tortilla española and chorizo.

We walked through Portomarín, a larger town on a reservoir. We stopped for lunch and ran into Stephan, our friend from Heidelberg. He's a nuclear engineer in between jobs and walking the Camino. Since we first met a few weeks ago our countries' leaders have met and we were giving the thumbs up sign that everything must be good with the world.

We walked another 8 km up to Gonzar. Again, we are walking most of the time by ourselves and up through a beautiful forest–this time oak, pine and ferns.

But a fire recently came through here and burned up all the pine needles and shrubs. Muerto.

We settled into Casa Carlos. We ate dinner with Hans from Belgium. He recently sold his company and decided to walk out his front door 86 days ago and follow the Vézelay Camino through France to Santiago.

We talked about the Camino as a very unique time for introspection, and how amazing our bodies are to walk so far one day and after a good meal and sleep we are ready to do it again. We also talked about our different approaches to the Camino. Like many, this is not religious for him, but it is deeply personal. For me, its spiritual but not because I'm catholic–which is how the spiritual component is hardwired here in Spain. For some the institution of the church is actually a barrier to the spiritual–the ornamentation, abuses and wealth of the church is hated and avoided.

How does the church help people believe in God and not keep people from believing? How do we show hospitality in normal, kind ways that people can receive and invite into community to experience authentic, healing relationships and wonder?

"Be in the heart of each to whom I speak, in the mouth of each who speaks unto me..." (Morning Prayer, Northumbria Community)

Out of our room there is a little farmhouse with a prayer plaque. A blessing for the house? That Jesus would be honored by those who live here and their names will be written on Jesus' heart. May that be true for us all.

Jesus died. Muerto–but he promises to be with us and lead us.

I am grieving and dealing with a few losses and trusting his leading on these last three days of the Camino.

There is an important lesson in dying to ourselves and honest self reflection. "See if my Camino is off track, and lead me in your Camino everlasting." (Psalm 139–paraphrased from Spanish).

Camino de Santiago Day Twenty-nine to Thirty-one

2018-06-11T09:08:00.001-07:00

Villafranca Del Bierzo to Las Herrerias to Fonfria to Samos

We left Villafranca Del Bierzo and began our ascent up the valley. We are following the Rio Valcarnes river along the old highway and crossing the main, new highway built on ginormous structures. It's actually a little bit of a challenge to walk hours when it would take minutes in a car or bus.

Our morning prayer desires to "behold the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in His temple." Sometimes that is a church, and we have been welcomed into beautiful ancient places of worship. But this stretch is the beauty of creation--green lush hills, animals and birds, streams and flowers exploding in wonder and life.

We spent the night in Las Herrerias and enjoyed this view of the cows grazing in the meadow. We watched the storm clouds move into the valley. This hostel is owned by David. His family converted his grandfather's barn into rooms and a restaurant. He's 31 and partners with his sister. He works non-stop for seven months and then closes the doors for five months. This year he's traveling to Vancouver BC and down to San Diego to improve his English. I wouldn't raise a family here. You have to go to the big cities like Madrid, London or somewhere in the States, he told us.

But this is a beautiful location. We said.

I know. I'm lucky but I'm not happy.

This is actually the challenge of all these small towns. There is no work for young people. The buildings of the villages are aging and so are the people. A 70 year old woman sitting next to a 90 year old told us today that this village is falling apart and we don't know how long we will be here. There's no work, our taxes are too high and the government spends more on tourists than improving our village.

At La Faba we stopped at the San Andres church which was restored by a German pilgrim foundation. We heard about it from German hospitaleros we met weeks ago in Pamplona. I went inside and reflected in Psalm 139--there is a lot of movement in this psalm of walking and resting and still experiencing God's presence, that we are fearfully and wonderfully made by our creator-father who knows us and searches our hearts to see if there is any evil "Camino" in me and to lead us in the "Camino" everlasting (how the Spanish translates "way").

Every time we stop to rest or eat, we take the opportunity to tend to our feet. I'm McGyver figuring out how to patch the inside of my shoe heel with Compede, Moleskin and Superglue. We can hardly believe our feet and our bodies are healthy and walking six hours a day.

We crossed in Galicia and this stretch is by far the most beautiful we have seen--dark greens, slate, rust and purple for as far as you can see.

This is beginning to look more like Ireland, and in fact, the Gallegos and the Irish share a Celtic heritage. It continues to rain off and on up the path with cows and small villages.

As we crossed the highest pass of our 1500mt ascent the afternoon rain began. We stopped for coffee and watched Nadal win a game of the final match and continued on to Fonfria and Casa Lucas where we were warmly received in this home that's been passed down for as long as Cecil can remember. She and her family have spent the last year converting the home-cow barn into a bar, then restaurant, then hostel. Her husband made us a fire (this spring's weather has bren terrible, he reminded us) while e enjoyed our home cooked meal.

I'm the morning it had stopped raining and we walked in the foggy hills through more small villages, cow pastures, paths covered in sanctuary-like branches and defined by moss and ivy covered slate walls and ancient hermitages and churches.

This chestnut tree is 800 years old and has a circumstance of over 8 meters. It's one of the most photographed trees in Spain.

There are times when it's just the two of us walking the Camino. The beauty is stunning, as if it was there just for us. Who else saw this today? Why are we so blessed to see this? The creation cries out God's praise. And we are part of that creation made with the capacity for awe and wonder.

I've also been meditating on Psalm 103

Praise the Lord, O my soul... and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your sins, heals all your diseases, redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion so that your youth may be renewed like the eagle's.

Today we made a descent equal to yesterday's ascent, this time following the Rio Sarria 19km to the amazing town of Samos--built around the Monastery beginning in the the year 665. It's an active Benedictine Abbey where we will attend mass tonight.

Camino de Santiago Day Twenty-seven and Twenty-eight

2018-06-08T11:19:00.001-07:00

Rabanal del Camino to Ponferrada to Villafranca del Bierzo

We are sitting in our albergue in Villafranca and it's pouring down rain. Check weather.com or your international weather channel and you'll see its true. Rain. Nothing but rain this weekend ALL OVER SPAIN. We are eating locally fried potato chips, olives, marcona almonds and Bierzo Roble. Fortunately we have a beautiful view of the river, should it overflow and flood our street. But we are getting ahead of ourselves.

Two accomplishments for the past two days:

1. We are within 200 km of Santiago.

2. We crossed over the highest pass of the Camino since the Pyranees.

The flowers and slate rock were stunning. We kept saying, people spend thousands of dollars to recreate this in their gardens.

Over the pass is the Cruz de Ferro, the iron cross where pilgrims drop the burdens they have been carrying. We each dropped something important to us and read a psalm.

The snow capped mountains we first saw entering into Astorga, were on our left as we crossed over and down into Riego de Ambrós where we were blessed by two unlikely people.

The first was Oliver. He's the hospitalero at the albergue in Riego. Since the restaurant closed he's the only kitchen in town. He humbly and graciously included us in his table, making spaghetti with chorizo and caldo gallego. He said to come at 7:30, but when we arrived he said there was a delay, could we eat at eight? We ate our meal with a man from Hamburg, Germany, and another from Piedmonte, Italy. After a few minutes we figured out that Spanish was the best way for us to communicate. We told stories about travel, food and our home towns. It was a delightful surprise—all because Oliver figured out how to stretch the little bit of chorizo he had for too many guests.

The second was Pilar, the owner of our pensión. Her husband died 25 years ago (when he was 55) from lung cancer. She raised a son and a daughter and now has five grandchildren—like us, three boys and two girls.

His dream was to have a restaurant in the first floor of their house which looks across this beautiful valley to the snow capped mountains, and call it La Felicidad or Buena Vista. She showed us the room where she'll put the restaurant when she gets her license. This town needs to provide services to its guests, she said.

After breakfast, as we were getting ready to leave, she brought Amy some flowers and we took this picture.

Dios te bendiga, I said.

Gracias y buen Camino, she said.

Yesterday we walked through Ponferrada almost missing the rain. But it rained all afternoon till this morning and continued as we walked 20km to Villafranca del Bierzo.

Along the way we stopped for a comfort breakfast.

Giving thanks for all we meet and all we see.

Camino de Santiago Day Twenty-four to Twenty-six

2018-06-05T14:17:00.001-07:00

Villadangos del Páramo to San Justo to Castrillo de los Polvazares to Rabanal del Camino

On our way up out of the meseta we passed through the medieval festival in Hospital de Órbigo, which celebrates the story of the knight who defeated the other jousters and got the girl. Apparently this is the inspiration for Cervantes’ Don Quixote. A priest stopped to tell us the story while we were caring for our feet at the end of town. It was actually very sweet. He wrote a book on the Quixotic pilgrim who, like Cervantes' dreamer desires a better life for society, and for him or herself, and endures the pain to get there. The Camino is a quest inward to make a difference outwardly. He said the pain in our feet makes the Camino mean something to us. He blessed us.

As we crossed the mountain pass of Santo Toribio toward Astorga, with the red soil and blue-blue skies, we came across Diego who has provided pilgrims free food and drink for eight years. A shop owner in town provides him with fruits, vegetables and other treats. He takes a donation but makes it clear that this all comes from God. He makes his own bread in his ovens and his friend made us soup. “The key to the essence is the presence.”

We spent the night in San Justo and walked into Astorga in the morning to reload on toiletries, enjoy the best tortilla española yet (made with home grown eggs!), attend mass at the Cathedral and admire one of Gaudí’s works: the Bishop’s Palace.

I’m enjoying mass as often as we can to reflect on the suffering of Jesus and his body broken, his blood poured out for us. Fortunately, we have had good health on the Camino with the exception of unavoidable blisters. I have calloused heels which makes it more painful. I soak them in cold water each night and goop them with Vaseline before putting on my socks.

It’s not life threatening, but I feel the pain with every step. It has given me/us a chance to reflect on those who suffer everyday through physical pain and disabilities, mental illness, poverty, and refugees who walk in pain all over the world looking for home. Jesus walked the road of suffering and Paul had a thorn in his side which somehow brought glory to God. We don’t preach ourselves but Christ crucified, he writes, “For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.” (2 Corinthians 4:5-6 NIV) We preach Jesus’ suffering for the life of the world, and his light of suffering is glory shining through us. Ironically we spend our lives avoiding suffering, but it’s inevitable.

We walked a few miles to Castrillo de los Polvazares. The rain held off till we stopped for lunch. It was a downpour we just missed. We checked into Flores del Camino, a retreat house and art studio. Basia and Bertrand (from England and France) provide hospitality for pilgrims and lead retreats to teach and experience ancient sacred art. Fifteen years ago, Basia walked a tranformative Camino. Later Bertrand walked it alone. Together as a couple and parents of 3 and 4 year olds, they are called to share a deeper experience of the Camino explained more fully at www.floresdelcamino.com.

They restored this 500 year old house in town so that it can be a quiet, reflective space and art studio. They teach others to write icons and create stained glass in the style of the medieval art of western Christianity that reflects the geometry of nature and brings alive ancient spirituality. We really admire their passion, calling and gifting as a couple.

They served us home cooked meals for dinner and breakfast and joined us for dessert and conversation, telling and listening to each other’s stories of this Camino and the Camino of our lives.

The town itself is so well preserved because of the pride of the people. They didn’t allow the highway to bisect the town, in spite of its historical significance in trade and the war of independence against the French in the 19th century.

The town has kept its stone walls and stone paved roads. And the Plaza Mayor has a cross—now an alternative route, it was once directly on the Camino.

Bertrand and Basia inspired me to look more closely to the actual flores del Camino on our walk this morning.

And the mystery of why one plant is gray and dead when the one adjacent is brilliant and yellow.

We arrived in Rabanal just before the storm and caught the 7pm vespers and 9:30pm compline, sung by the Benedictine brothers, in the church built by the Knights Templar during the Crusades.

It’s clear that we are out of the dry, flat meseta and entering into the Galician mountains. It’s 50 degrees and the air is wet. It’s unseasonable for this region—last year in May they were in a drought, this year they’ve had two months straight of rain.

Not only are my heels hurting but also my lower back. I stopped along the way to reapply Vaseline (our second best friend on the Camino) and some Recup balm “with essential oils and arnica extract” and walked the last two miles. My backpack pressed right where it hurt and gave me walking therapy.

Tomorrow we have a large, significant climb to the Cruz de Ferro, where we leave a meaningful rock behind to symbolize our commitment to transformation. Then we cross over two passes for a total of a 600m increase, and then down the other side to our next stop.

Last night Basia shared with me a poem by Thomas Merton which captures much of what I’m experiencing on the Camino.

Amen.

Camino de Santiago Day Twenty-three

2018-06-02T11:39:00.001-07:00

León to Villadangos del Páramo

After the mass last night, at the León Cathedral, we stayed out to enjoy the evening. The Spanish culture is so social—everyone enjoying a paseo along the narrow streets and gathering around a drink and free tapas. The first place we stopped was right in front of the Cathedral.

At our last stop, we splurged and paid for the morcilla (tripe blood sausage on toast—surprisingly good) and vermut casero from Paco at La Bicha. His spicy chorizo on bread tapa was also great.

This morning we stumbled on the Saturday farmer's market. Beautiful produce, cured meats and cheeses, under colorful tents, and people connecting with one another.

We had breakfast looking at the Cathedral. It’s hard to get the three story structure in the picture. We took the audio tour and loved the descriptions of how and when it was built.

The thirteenth century was a boom for architects and builders (see Pillars of the Earth). Coming out of the dark, thick walled Romanesque into the light and airy Gothic, the builders crossed vaults to bear the weight so the walls could hold the beautiful stained glass. This cathedral has the second most stained glass in Europe and was built in just 50 years, around 1250.

As impressive as the building was and is, it’s only because of the remarkable renovations over the last 150 years that we are able to see it. At one point, the dome over the transept crumbled and someone in the nineteenth century had to figure out how to replace the roof. Just five years ago, all the stained glass was taken out, piece by piece, and the iron frames were replaced with brass.

So, it’s the creative genius of these buildings that reflects amazing art and architecture, science and imagination. But the preservation of this kind of masterpiece is also miraculous.

What motivates us to create and care about beauty, especially in a place of worship? What draws our hearts and heads to marvel at light and lines? God has wired us to worship, and whether it’s believers gathering for mass or tourists gathering around a guide, everyone is in awe.

We had our morning prayer in that space and two things stood out.

First, our Celtic Daily Prayer: One thing I ask of the Lord and this is what I seek—that I might dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.

Second, our scripture reading from John 3:21 But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light...

We left León this morning, passing through the ancient walls and along the industrial corridor to our next stop along a two lane highway.

I liked the two signs we came across along the Camino. There is an alternate route and the original route. They wanted to make sure we saw with arrows all over the street.

And a sign in a café we stopped at for coffee and an ice cream bar. I think it is from Tibet. “We suffer too much for the little we don’t have, and we take little pleasure in all we do have. Happy week.”

Camino de Santiago Day Twenty to Twenty-two

2018-06-01T13:56:00.001-07:00

Sahagún to Reliegos to León

In Sahagún we celebrated the halfway city of the Camino. We are the blue dot in this map.

The last few days were really challenging and long along the meseta. As I wrote in my last blog, there are very few churches and very few masses, or pilgrims blessings, in this section of the Camino. But the hostel in Sahagún was a great surprise.

Our four French friends told us there was a pilgrim mass at the Monasterio de Santa Cruz, so we decided to stay the night at the Santa Cruz albergue.

Father Andres is a Marist priest from Rome and he is leading his team in new ministry in this Benedictine monastery of nuns. Apparently, the ministry of the nuns in prayer and work—ora et labora—doesn’t lend itself to a ministry of hospitality or evangelism in the albergue. Andres and Daniel, from Madrid, invited us to small group sharing. We all picked a card that reflected our experience so far on the Camino. Their hope is to invite pilgrims to consider the inner spiritual journey of the Camino as they are experiencing the physical Camino.

I chose a picture of a rope in a knot to illustrate how pilgrims are bound together by our stories regardless of nationality, language or faith. And the knot is a symbol of Amy and I growing together on the Camino. In our circle was a retired Brit living in Shanghai on his second Camino, a marine transitioning from deployment to civilian life, a newlywed from Iran walking with her husband, a man who lives in Naples (Florida) and Biarritz and has been walking the Camino since his adult daughter committed suicide, a Slovakian young adult figuring out the next career move, Daniel, Amy and me.

Amazing how much we learned about each other in such a short time.

Before our community dinner (the hostel prepared a main course and we all brought sides, wine, etc.), we went to the mass and blessing. It was pretty special...the mother superior gave each of us pilgrims the sign of the cross on our foreheads, and the priest laid his hands on our heads and said “may God be your companion on the journey.” We took it all in and felt the warmth of God’s spirit with us. Finally, they passed out scripture verses on rolled up pieces of colored paper and said the Camino may be good or bad, but God’s word is always good. (Andres is behind the priest.)

Two more blessings. The first, was running into our four French friends and having a drink on the Plaza Mayor. They welcomed us and we enjoyed their company. They were very kind to speak English to us as best they could and share more about their families and their friendship with each other. We shared with them our motivation for the Camino—sabbatical, detaching from work, growing our marriage, experiencing God’s leading rather than always leading others. They sent us this picture from León when they arrived to let us know where they were.

The next day, we met this beautiful family from Italy living and working in England. This is the second phase of the Camino they have walked together. It is an unusual to see a family walking together, and the smiles say a lot about how much fun they were having together. We thought about our time traveling in Spain with our boys 21 years ago.

We decided to walk 30 km that day to Reliegos. We were the only ones staying in the hostel, so Amy and I slept in two of the six twin beds, all by ourselves. This morning we walked as the sun was rising, and storm clouds threatening. It’s the best weather to walk 25 km in. And it never rain today!

We followed the local men to coffee.

And stopped by the river to care for our feet.

I stopped to ask this man what he was growing.

¿Cebollas?

No, ajo.

Las cebollas están aquí (behind him). Son de verano.

¿Más pequeños?

Sí. Crecen hasta julio. Y patatas aquí. (To the far right.) ¿No tienes papas en California?

Sí, los tenemos.

Gracias y buenos días.

Buen Camino.

Life lesson: along the meseta of life, it’s important to stop and pay attention, and discover the gifts God has given to us.

Which is a great lesson to remember because the walk into León was longer and harder than we anticipated. A “provisional” Camino took us up and over a busy road and then down a steep hill. It was hard to stay positive and grateful.

We checked into our room, napped and then enjoyed worship in the Cathedral and wrote this post eating free tapas.

Camino de Santiago Day Eighteen and Nineteen

2018-05-31T13:51:00.001-07:00

San Antón to Boadilla del Campo to Villalcázar de Sirga to Ledigos

It was a beautiful sunny walk from San Antón through Castrojeriz. Like many mornings we reflected on the people we met the day before. We pray “be in the heart of each to whom I speak and in the heart of each who speaks unto me” so it makes sense to talk about those we meet.

Outside of the town we walked up to the meseta—an ascent of 1.5km at an 18% grade.

On the top of the hill is a makeshift cross, a memorial made of pilgrims’ trinkets.

We spent the night in Boadilla del Campo at a popular albergue with a garden, “pool” (you might soak your feet but not your body), and a mural wall. We went to the church before dinner to see if it was open. It was Sunday, and of course it would be open, but it wasn’t. Joining us was a group of men from a small town in Alicante. We started bantering in Spanish. Who had the key, what’s with these churches in this part of Spain that wouldn’t even exist if not for the Camino—most of these towns have two residents...

The oldest man was 75. He started walking the Camino when his wife died eleven years ago. He walks it every year and brings the younger men (in their sixties) from his village. They all have matching shirts and hats with pins collected from previous Caminos.

I learned the right way to make paella de conejo and paella primavera from the elder man. The rabbit has to be fresh from the corral, not wild or from the carniceria. Where do you get a rabbit? I asked. The neighbor. I told him my neighbor doesn’t have rabbits, and he said we all know someone who has rabbits. Snails go with the rabbit. Unlike the conejo paella, the primavera paella has garlic, only young tender garlic, artichokes (only in season) and green beans (also in season). And all paella is eaten with bread and vino tinto—except the seafood paella which is eaten with vino blanco. But seafood is too expensive for these working men.

We also talked about education. Most of them only completed primary education because their parents needed them to work when they were children. Spain was a poor country until 30 years ago. So much has changed. Their children and grandchildren are bilingual, have cell phones and drive their own cars.

We also talked about faith. The elder is very comfortable with his faith. He doesn’t go to confession since his wife died. I don’t have any pecados, he said. (He also said he doesn’t snore since his wife died.) I don’t kill anyone, I don’t go after women. So I confess once a year in Santiago. My priest says I need to go to mass like a plant needs water. But I don’t.

They asked me what I did for work and how I know Spanish. I told them about my studies in school. They couldn’t wrap their heads around a pastor who works full time for one church not several churches.

We talked about grandchildren and one of the men told me all about how the moors were driven out of Spain, which regions speak Castellano and which speak other languages like Catalan, Basque, and Gallego.

At dinner I spoke with a German man about why Fords are more affordable for Germans to drive, and with an Italian from Calabria who works in Slovakia about how he misses his grandmother’s food. They both are walking the Camino to figure out their career paths—time alone to think through what’s next.

Today from Villalcázar de Sirga we walked along Via Aquitana, the ancient Roman road connecting Bordeaux to Astorga. This is farmland and there is a network of large and small canals to bring water—we follow some form of water all the way. Sometimes we can follow the yellow arrows and other times we need local knowledge.

This is the beginning of a week long section through Castilla y León that is monotonous, flat farmland. Many pilgrims skip this 100 mile stretch—bus from Burgos to León or bike. It’s boring. But those who choose to walk are philosophical about it. If it’s a pilgrimage meant for self reflection, maybe this is the most important part—dealing with our own wilderness experience rather than jumping forward to the promised land. One pilgrim, an Irish woman began to tear up when we talked about wilderness. That’s exactly what it felt like last time, she said, 40 days in the wilderness.

There aren’t many villages in this section and not many churches open to offer mass or pilgrims blessings, which adds to the wilderness experience. The beautiful 12th century Crusader church we saw from our window in Villalcázar de Sirga wasn’t open all day.

So, it’s an opportunity to pay attention and give thanks for all we see and all we meet. That night at dinner we sat with two pilgrims from the UK, one woman relocated from Dublin and the other woman from Yorkshire. We talked about a lot of things (U2 and how Gerry grew up in Dublin the same time as Bono and the band), but also about our experience of pilgrimage from different perspectives and motivations, and what spiritual may mean to us.

That day we met two French couples doing the Camino. They completed a previous section together and hope to complete the last section in the Fall. They have a car, so one of the four drives ahead with luggage and lunch and meets the three along the way.

Amy and I start our day with morning prayer, following the scriptures from the Solana Beach Church app. We have hours talking together and hours alone in quiet—especially along this stretch where there aren’t as many pilgrims to connect with. I can’t remember when I’ve had so much time to think, pray, daydream, reflect and sing loudly.

On my iPhone (which is my one tool for taking pictures, blogging, calling, navigating and listening to music) I listened to the Gregorian chant music Silos, recorded in the 1990s by the monks of Santo Domingo de Silos in a town about 40 miles south of Burgos. The medieval sounds made me think about a thousand years of pilgrims and their experience of worship. I can’t sing chant well—I don’t know the Latin words—but I try to sing out as if we were in worship together.

Amy and I looked up the lyrics of songs sung at SBPC last weekend—missing the voices and instruments and sounds of our worship, but singing out familiar lyrics that connect us in worship.

At the end of the day Joshua Tree provides the spring our steps so desperately need to get to our destination.

We carried a treat from Sirga—almendrados made of flour, sugar and almonds. It was great with café con leche before starting our afternoon leg to Ledigos.

The meseta is also a chance to give thanks for all we eat.

Camino de Santiago Day Sixteen and Seventeen

2018-05-28T02:14:00.001-07:00

Rabé de las Calzadas to San Antón

We had great conversations along the way to San Antón with new friends and “old” friends we haven’t seen in a few days. We ran into Koishi and Ishiro at coffee. We met them almost two weeks ago in Zubiri. We walked with Kazu into the hostel and met these two retired men from Japan—a few hundred miles away from Kazu. We share broken English and smiles with one another, asking about each other’s Camino. Kazu left them a few days ago because he had to stay on schedule to finish.

The theme of conversation today seemed to be around letting go and loss. A woman from New Zealand shared with us about her breast cancer, father’s death when she was a teenager, and her husband and mother dying within a few months. She giggled as she saw some of her new growth hair fall out into her hat. It’s grown back curly, she said. I’m trying to put it all into perspective and how those I love have prepared the way for my journey.

We walked over one of the mesas—flat farmland—with lots of storm clouds and a little rain and two new friends: a 20 something student from Bologna and a retired man from Alicante. We spoke in English and Spanish about everything: politics, house sizes in the US (bigger) and aches and pains on the Camino. We stopped for lunch together in Hontanas—about the half-way point of our Camino.

Amy and I stopped in San Antón, the ruins of a medieval church and pilgrim hospital. San Antón was a fourth century monk who is the root of the oldest Christian—Coptics and Maronites. His symbol was the Tau or T cross that Saint Francis of Assisi adopted—maybe because he stopped here on his way back from Santiago.

The cloister-church-hospital was a thriving community until the order disbanded in the 18th century. It fell into disrepair for two hundred years. A pilgrim saw the ruins and had a dream to renovate the grounds and create a new albergue for pilgrims in 2003.

It is the most primitive one we’ve stayed at—no electricity, WiFi or hot water, five guests and one hospitalera from Poland. It’s also the most captivating and beautiful. I soaked my feet in cold ice water and took in the beauty of the walls, arches, rose window and portico that the highway passes through.

Nerla made a beautiful meal for dinner: lettuce from the garden and pasta, bread and wine. Before the meal we shared our name and Home countries (Poland, France, Spain, Belgium, Germany and US) and some experience of our Camino or why we were walking (to experience God, clear my head, receive something from God or whatever, pray for my sister who had cancer and her daughter who is blind from birth).

We had a simple breakfast of coffee, biscuits, bread and jam by candlelight and continued our conversations. Like a family we all ate together and no one was in a hurry to leave. One is walking the Camino with no money to experience his life differently and depend on the generosity of others, another is working on emptying himself every morning so that he can be filled up with God.

Emptying ourselves in order to be filled—with God’s presence and the simple gifts of those we meet and paying attention to what we see.

Camino de Santiago Day Twelve to Fifteen

2018-05-25T12:25:00.001-07:00

Tosantos to San Juan de Ortega to Burgos

We left our humble hospital de peregrinos in Tosantos where Santiago provides such amazing hospitality. Simple meal of lentils and chorizo made by all of us, and a simple prayer time in the capilla upstairs.

We stopped for coffee and ran into Mike and his daughter Eliza. For his 60th birthday he invited his three young adult children to join him for a portion of the Camino. The other two had already split off, but Eliza was there for his actual birthday. We sang happy birthday.

Mike and I were in a covenant group that met every year in the 1990s. For two or three days we would check in with each other and then the whole group would lay hands on each of us and pray for our spiritual life, family and ministry. Those were formative years for all of us—and for me: living into first call, balancing work and family, dealing with leadership challenges and (in our last year together) discerning my next call.

Mike saw my post on Facebook and wondered where we were on the Camino. Turns out we started the same day in France but we were ahead one day. By Logroño we caught up and shared tapas. We ended up staying in San Juan de Ortega and caught up on life while we soaked our feet in cold salt water and watched our clothes dry. In life we have logged a few more miles since we last met, and it was good to reflect on God’s faithfulness along the way. And we enjoyed the mass and pilgrims blessing in the church.

In the morning we left the hostel in San Juan de Ortega in the dark—not because we wanted to, but because the first pilgrims up at 5:30 made it hard to sleep. Nonetheless, we had the gift of an amazing sunrise.

It was a rainy long day to Burgos, where we took a rest day to nurse our aching feet.

I came to Burgos in 1981 at the beginning of my post Madrid, seven week Eurail adventure. I remember the El Cid statue and the Cathedral—it was special to return. It was a great place to rest—beautiful sites and great food. We went to the same place two nights in a row with the same server and the same question: what should we eat? We were not disappointed—big portions and cheap!

In the morning we got a late start. It was raining pretty hard. We stopped at the cathedral to get our credential stamped. The stamps show where you ate, worshipped, or slept and the hand written date. Eventually, this will prove to the pilgrim office in Santiago that we completed our pilgrimage.

Because of the rain and the late start we stopped at Rabé de las Calzadas, just 13km from Burgos. It’s a small albergue with pilgrims from Massachusetts, Minnesota, Florida, Germany and San Sebastian. We shared a family meal of chicken soup with noodles, iceberg mixed salad and tortilla española. After dinner a few of us went to vespers at the Sisters of Charity Convent a few doors down. At the end of the sing prayer time they blessed us and gave us a medallion from their order. The leader said, the psalms say we have eyes but cannot see. The Camino gives us the opportunity to see with the eyes of our heart.

One last thing. This morning I was reflecting on the relationships on the Camino and my “affiliation need.” I’m relational, but I like knowing who we are going to be with. The Camino offers so many opportunities to meet people from all over the world, but once we click with people I want to continue those relationships. Everyone is walking at their own pace and we don’t know from day to day who we’ll be with. When you take a rest day, you risk not seeing the community you’ve formed. It sounds a bit strange, but it’s something else on the Camino I have to let go of.

But we stopped in Tardejo this afternoon for lunch and we ran into two Tosantos friends. We shared quite a bit together making dinner and praying in the service with Santiago. We hugged each other like old friends and sat with them. It’s a mother and daughter from Australia who have had their challenges but have also been surprised at how blessed they’ve been from the very beginning of their trip. They didn’t plan on this being a “spiritual” Camino, but it’s become that for them. They also took a rest day in Burgos and were happy to see us.

God is good to remind us of the importance of fellow pilgrims along the way from two days and two decades.

Camino de Santiago Day Eleven

2018-05-23T04:53:00.001-07:00

Grañón to Tosantos

Hey, we are still in beautiful landscape and agriculture at the western edge of La Rioja.

“You don’t have a choice.”

Enjoying a long morning concert of Joshua Tree and “You’re the Best Thing About Me,” “Love is All We Have Left” and “Ordinary Love” by U2.

Threatening clouds just a mile before our destination at Tosantos.

The ceiling of the parroquial hostel—200 years old?

Chapel set up by Santiago, our hospitalero.
Santiago is host, cook, blister consultant and pastor of everyone who comes. He orchestrated 16 of us making lentel soup with chorizo and mixed salad.

His dinner blessing: I want to thank you all for coming to eat and sleep here. I want to thank the pilgrims who came before you. And I want to thank God for guiding all of us on our Camino. Amen.

The fee for the hostel is by donation—whatever we give will provide for tomorrow’s pilgrims.

Everyone is invited to the prayer time after dinner. He told us: What unites us is the love of God that guides us and helps us along the Camino. What we do on the Camino doesn’t happen anywhere else—strangers walking together from all over the world with the same goal of the Camino. So that we are not confused, the love of God is not the same as friendship or energy. And so we pray together tonight to remember and give thanks for God’s love through Jesus Christ. Each language was represented in the readings and prayers—Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Italian and English. Santiago passed out prayer requests written by previous pilgrims in the last three weeks—the rest of their journey from Tosantos to Santiago de Compostela. We read the prayers in the languages they were written and said amen after each one. Very moving to pray for pilgrims who came before us.

Camino de Santiago Day Ten

2018-05-21T05:16:00.001-07:00

Azofra to Grañón

Our “cinq amis français” we met in Zubiri and saw again here in Azofra at breakfast.

On the road.

Those dang poppies.

Taking a rest in Cirueña.

Sheep on the way into Santo Domingo de la Calzada, where we also found the rooster in the church. Google it—great story.

Hanging our laundry in Grañón with our friend Yasuko.

For the first time we stayed in the parish hostel. We chopped the vegetables and prepared the meal together. Pilgrims from Korea, the Netherlands, Italy, Brazil and the US. The three volunteers helped us make dinner and clean up, and then led us in a time of sharing in prayer in the balcony of the church.

Each part of the scripture or prayers were read in the different languages represented. They had candles for each of us, and gave us the opportunity to share a few words about what we’re experiencing so far on the Camino. For that part there was no translation and it was beautiful to hear people sharing simply, sometimes in tears, about what this experience means to them. We sang in Japanese, Korean, and English.

I’m reflecting on the scripture passage for the day from Deuteronomy and what God expects from us—to love God and to care for the foreigner in our midst. On the Camino we are the foreigners and we are welcoming each other on the Camino. God is Lord of all—all the world. It’s amazing the simple acts of hospitality and generosity that make strangers friends.

“May he bring us home rejoicing at the wonders he has shown us...”

And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, [13] and to observe the Lord's commands and decrees that I am giving you today for your own good? [14] To the Lord your God belong the heavens, even the highest heavens, the earth and everything in it. [15] Yet the Lord set his affection on your ancestors and loved them, and he chose you, their descendants, above all the nations—as it is today. [16] Circumcise your hearts, therefore, and do not be stiff-necked any longer. [17] For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. [18] He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. [19] And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt. [20] Fear the Lord your God and serve him. Hold fast to him and take your oaths in his name. [21] He is the one you praise; he is your God, who performed for you those great and awesome wonders you saw with your own eyes. [22] Your ancestors who went down into Egypt were seventy in all, and now the Lord your God has made you as numerous as the stars in the sky. Deuteronomy 10

Camino de Santiago Day Nine

2018-05-19T10:37:00.001-07:00

Logroño to Azofra

Yesterday in Logroño was a rest day. Today we walked 34.5km or 21.3mi through La Rioja. Why? We don’t know. But it gave us an opportunity to talk about pain and endurance.

Just pics:

“Peregrino con sellos”

Delighting in Sabbath rest

“It’s 4:30 and I can’t sleep so let’s get an early start on a long day.”

Golden poppies in the morning sun. Our psalm this morning was

Psalm 98:4-9 NIV

[4] Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music; [5] make music to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and the sound of singing, [6] with trumpets and the blast of the ram's horn—shout for joy before the Lord, the King. [7] Let the sea resound, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it. [8] Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy; [9] let them sing before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples with equity…

Sticks in the fence crosses

Topping the vines

Ancient irrigation

Brilliant yellow field

“Patatas bravas con mayonesa por favor”

Crossing the bridge in Nájera

El Corte de mujeres en Nájera.

Learning from the locals about topping—intensifying the flavor of the grape by tearing off the top portion of the green branches.

Red soil of Rioja

Arriving in Azofra

Buen Camino.

Camino de Santiago Day Seven

2018-05-18T07:27:00.001-07:00

Los Arcos to Logroño

We left Los Arcos by 7:30–a late start along the Camino. Today was a long stretch, about 30km or 18mi, but another beautiful day with sun at our backs and a cool breeze in our faces.

I met Peter from Australia. He and his wife are traveling with another couple but today he was walking alone. We met the first day in Orisson. Amy and I had finished morning prayer and were singing “Praise the Name of the Lord Most High.” I forgot the verses so we replaced them with Amazing Grace. I knew Peter attended church and I asked him to sing the second verse with me. He told me all about his own journey of faith that started when he was the child of baptist missionaries, but became more personal in his 50s. Now he’s part of a vibrant church and we shared a bit about how we are experiencing God in this Camino.

We transitioned today from Navarra to La Rioja regions. This is the time of year to see new growth and sprouts on the mature vines—everything is green. It takes great care to prune the vines as they grow so the fruit it produces is good. We learned more on a tour of a winery. A lot of the fruit is sacrificed—cut off the plant and left for compost—so that the harvested fruit is flavorful. Many of the vines are 80 years old. They don’t yield as much as the young vines, but the young fruit isn’t as tasty. There are more lessons here about age and fruitfulness...

We stopped at the church of the Holy Sepulchre in Torres del Río, built in the 12th century. It’s got an artistic dome and a simple crucifix. The prayer on the altar below the crucifix says “although your sins put me here, all I ask of you is a contrite heart."

About gear and pain...

We are carrying less than 10 pounds plus water. Some people send their gear ahead to the next town, and some carry packs with 40 pounds. We think it’s part of the experience to travel light. I have two choices for pants (short or long) and two choices for shirts (short or long) to walk in. Plus, I have a short sleeve collared shirt to wear in the evening.

I bought new insoles on the second day to give more support and cushion. But, no matter what, after 13 or 17 miles our feet and legs are done. The first thing we do at the albergue is shower, then tend to our feet.

I found Recup at Decathlon store in Barcelona—it helps to massage feet and calves with “essential oils.” Vaseline is a must before we walk in the morning. There is going to be pain, it’s just whether the pain is bearable or debilitating. One pilgrim from Winnipeg had blisters on three toes and his nail was coming off the nail bed on day three. Another pilgrim gave him her hiking sandals and he carried on. Another Pilgrim from Quebec told us at dinner she is in pain as she walks, but she is walking for her grandson who has a rare neuromuscular disease. She is a poultry farmer with 60,000 chickens. He is with me all the way, she said. She thinks and prays for him.

We met Ted and Darlene from Winnipeg. They pastor a church and are also here on sabbatical (his church calls it sustainability leave). Darlene hurts above her ankle and was looking for new shoes today. She limped with her poles for most of the 18 miles yesterday. But today they were off with big smiles, while we took a rest day in Logroño.

Buen Camino.

Camino de Santiago Day Six

2018-05-17T08:06:00.001-07:00

Day 6: Estella to Los Arcos

We stayed at the municipal pilgrims albergue in Estella in close quarters: two showers, toilets and sinks for 22 people in our room. There were four more rooms like it. Many share meals together buying food at the store and cooking in the kitchen. We got an early start at 6 o’clock–grabbed a coffee out of the vending machine (it was good) and jam on bread.

Within 2 miles we were at Bodegas Irache that serves free wine or water to pilgrims from a spigot to give strength for the journey.

We are now at lower elevation, and we had full sun as we walked today. Across the fields we saw a beautiful mountain range, Sierra de Lokiz—the white cliffs in the distance that are keeping the storms in Cantabria at bay.

As we walked into Villamayor de Montjardin we found the Arabic baths. These are three of our Italiano friends. Whenever we see them they say "eh, California!"

This small village built on hillside has a castle (built by the Moors and conquered by the Christians) at the top of the peak and a humble chapel of San Andrés built in the 12th century (and the tower added in the 14th). There is very little light inside except for the small room and window above the altar that draws you in. I was thinking “I am the light of the world. Whoever believes in me will never walk in darkness. “

As I walked outside, a man from the village told me about the silver cross inside the church and kept in a niche behind iron bars. Es un tesoro, he said. It was made 1300 years ago. It was found in the castle and they moved it to this humble church. A Spanish cyclist told me the expensive cross in that humble church is like Grace. As we walked away I thought about a treasure in clay jars. That church doesn’t deserve a cross that expensive or that precious and yet someone chose to put it there.

We are still in Navarre, and walking through the vineyards. The soil is red, and the road is dry and dusty. No fences, no crowds, just fields. This is the time of year when farmers just let their crops grow–vines and wheat still green with no fruit. Branches have been pruned and young leaves and branches are growing on old vines. The analogies are way too easy.

Pruning on the Camino takes place in many different ways. Two days ago we met a Canadian man who had to spend the day resting because he had blisters on his feet. He couldn’t wear his shoes, and a British woman gave him her hiking sandals. She told us today that he arrived here in Los Arcos with his wife and sandals. I love that strangers are tangibly caring for each other.

Camino de Santiago Day Five

2018-05-15T12:56:00.001-07:00

Day 5: Puente La Reina to Estella

We woke up this morning and were greeted by poppies in the field in front of our albergue. Poppies join us for most of the Camino along the path, in the fields acting as punctuation to the surprisingly beautiful countryside we are crossing.

Puente La Reina’s puente crosses the Arga River.

We walked through vineyards of Navarra.

And we walked over Roman roads and bridges.

This morning we re-met a young Korean girl we met the second day. Like many of the pilgrims we started with five days ago, we are on the same pace and run into each other along the way. This time we had a chance to get to know her better. She is on the Camino to find herself by walking the Camino alone. We talked about family and what it’s been like on the Camino. When her phone chimed, her ring tone was a familiar tune. It’s a song from church they play at weddings, she said, If I Speak With The Tongues of Angels. I shared the scripture passage, which she knew. We invited her to say morning prayer with us. It was a sweet beginning to the day. We saw her throughout the rest of the day. It’s so important for all of us to connect with others and share our stories.

We met a man from London who said there is a magnetic attraction to the Camino, and he took a short flight to Spain to walk two weeks of it.

I love medieval architecture—such craftsmanship and beauty that lasts a thousand years. The bridges and churches are simple and awesome. The San Miguel Hermitage is a great contrast to many of the Camino churches—this is small and humble. We went inside with the Irish brothers and saw prayers written in many different languages on the simple slab altar along with olive branches from outside.

Our day ended at Estella (star in Latin, as in Campostella or star in the field). It’s it’s a great little town along the river with a medieval section where our municipal pilgrims albergue is. Just down the street is San Pedro de la Rúa where we attended mass and the pilgrims blessing.

Lord, you who called your servant Abraham out of the town of Ur in Chaldea and who watched over him during the wandering, who guided your people through the desert; we also ask you to watch over your present servants, who for the love of your name make a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

Be for us

A companion on our journey

The guide of our intersections

The strengthening during fatigue

The fortress in danger

The resource on our itinerary

The shadow in our heat

The light in our darkness

The consolation during dejection

And the power of our intention

so that we under your guidance, safely and unhurt, may reach the end of our journey and strengthen with gratitude and power, secure and filled with happiness may return home. For Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen

Camino de Santiago Day Four

2018-05-14T09:52:00.001-07:00

Day 4: Pamplona to Puente La Reina

We left Pamplona at 6:30 this morning. I’ve seen pictures of Pamplona–always with bulls and crazies in white with red scarves. But this time we are walking, and not running, all by ourselves through this beautiful walled city.

On our fourth day we sort of have a rhythm: wake up by five or 5:30 AM, breakfast and 6:30 AM begin walking. It sounds early, but it’s nice to begin walking first thing.

We say Northumbria Community morning prayer as we walk.

“Who is it you seek? We seek the Lord our God...”

“Be in the heart of each to whom I speak and in the mouth of each who speaks unto me.”

“Christ as a light illumine and guide me.”

“May the peace of the Lord Christ go with us... guide us through the wilderness... protect us through the storm.”

“May he bring us home rejoicing...”

We take a break after a few hours with a café cortado and maybe a tortilla española.

We run into pilgrims we have met along the way. This morning we saw our 81-year-old friend from Kobe. He has the same thing every day: tortilla, orange juice, and a banana. I asked him if he thought this was healthy, and he said I hope so.

We get back on the road walking for a few more hours. This morning was overcast, with a few sprinkles. But the terrain is changing–we are coming down through the foothills of the Pyrenees. But it has been chilly in the 50s and 60s.

The wheat fields waved in the wind and seemed to go on forever. Scattered along the way were flowers like brilliant poppies, purple thistles and herbs like anise.

At the top of the hill is a monument called El Perdón. It marks the spot where many were killed in the Civil War. It means forgiveness, and the Spanish people never want to forget the people who died and the cruelty they did to one another in the 1930s. The huge windmills are a modern version of Don Quixote’s giants.

Because Amy and I walk at different paces, we have time alone and together throughout the day. It’s nice to talk about what we see and who we meet, but’s also nice to have time alone, in silence, or singing into the wind at full voice.

Sometimes we walk or rest with others, like the brothers from Ireland. One lives in Galway and the other in Dublin. They have a rule that they only get two arguments a day, one each. Congratulations for walking as brothers, I said. Check with us at the end, Padraig said.

After about six hours of walking, we find our albergue. The last mile is the hardest, our feet and muscles aching. Today we are staying just outside of Puente La Reina. This is where the Camino routes from Aragón and France meet (and have for a thousand years).

We shower, change into our other clothes (i.e., the ones we didn’t walk in) and rest before dinner. As much as we like to explore a town for dinner, we have no desire or energy to walk further.

Conversation with other pilgrims, get ready for bed and sleep by 9:30.

12€ each gets a bed. 13.5€ for dinner and breakfast. For 3€ each we get an upgrade to a private bunk room with a view.

Buen Camino.

Camino de Santiago Day Three

2018-05-13T15:01:00.001-07:00

May 13

Day 3: Zubiri to Pamplona

We walked the Camino path along the river six hours from Zubiri to Pamplona. It rained a little, but the clouds opened up and there was sun. And then it would lightly rain again. Actually very refreshing for the Camino.

Another beautiful day walking through farms with cows, miniature ponies, geese and chickens. I'm in awe of the beauty of creation, the friendliness of locals and the pilgrims from all over the world.

We met a woman from London who is on the Camino as a life check up/balance. She belongs to a Jesuit small group that meets bi-weekly to read, share, be silent and pray together. She came alone. "I realized I don’t have community, so I joined a group. My church is small and older, and my boyfriend doesn’t go to church. I came on the Camino alone and was worried I’d be alone, but everyone is so friendly."

Graffiti on the walls to protest unemployment or have a conversation about whether the region of Navarra is of España or País Vasco.

.
It was an easier day of walking 13 miles—less elevation—but still the last hour was hard. I think the lactic acid build up from the first day may it tough.

We got to Pamplona, cleaned up and talked with a German couple here to serve in an albuergue as hospitaleros, volunteering for three weeks. They started the Camino in 2010 did another route in 2012 and 2014 and decided to start volunteering in the hostels.

We went to a small prayer service in a Dominican church for a song (No Turbe, a Taise song based on Teresa of Avila), scripture about Abraham leaving Home, a little sharing and prayer. The woman leading and playing guitar reminded us of the inner journey of the Camino and the need to share our experiences with others.

We ate at Café Oruña—another place Hemingway slept? Walked? Ate?

Camino de Santiago Day Two

2018-05-13T10:47:00.000-07:00

Day 2: Roncesvalles to Zubiri

May 12, 2018

After an 18 mile day and 3800 elevation climb, we settled into our hostel, La Posada, and enjoyed the Peregrino meal with three Australians, a couple from Winnipeg, an art history student from Holland, and a New Yorker. The special Pilgrim’s Mass and Blessing at the church was packed—even the not-so-religious don’t turn down a blessing.

Fortunately we are not driving—walking it’s only 753.4km to Santiago.

We got an early start at 6:30. It rained earlier, but the rain held off for us till 10:30. We walked through farms and villages with horses, cows and sheep.

This is our Chingu friend. He is studying computer science in Korea and taking two months to walk the Camino before reporting for military service.

We crossed over two passes and descended through the foothills of the Pyrenees. It rained for a few hours, which made the track a little more slippery and challenging.

We hiked six hours, 21.9km (13.6mi), to Zubiri and checked into our albuergue with our 81-year-old Japanese friend.

We enjoyed a great four course meal at our hostel—a fresh salad, vegetable soup, a local chorizo, and a dish with rice, egg, saffron and parsley served in three inch round cakes with a tomato sauce. Mmmm. And water, red wine and bread. At our table were five French and three Americans. Our conversation was slow and fun, with laughter, travel stories and naming every song (Michelle ma belle... and Frère Jacques), movie (Les Misérables), and celebrity (Woody Allen, Catherine Deneuve, Jacques Cousteau) we could think of.

Starting the Camino

2018-05-12T06:42:00.001-07:00

Sunset in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port.

Just getting started up the hill.

Stop at Orisson for café cortado and Spanish tortilla.

Every pilgrim gets a shell (symbol of pilgrimage) and I made a cross along the way with sticks and dental floss. I got a similar one on the Washington Mall to remember the plight of immigrants. As we walk I'm thinking from time to time about the caravan from Central America—a pastor pilgrimage of desperation rather than by choice.

Amazing views and making our way up the 3800 ft climb. With elevation, it was a 30k first day from Saint Jean.

Elevation marker

Almost the top—amazing snow capped Pyrenees.

Beautiful descent from highest point, Col de Lepoeder, at 4000 feet.

Mass and service of blessing for pilgrims from all over the world.

In 2010, Amy and I participated in a two week course with Fuller Seminary in Orvieto. To explore the theme of pilgrimage we walked a particular place and reflected on what we saw and experienced in a poem that began “I put on pilgrim shoes...” I thought I would pursue the same theme on my experience of pilgrimage on this sabbatical.

I put on pilgrim shoes

I put on pilgrim shoes,

Stepped off the bus

Anticipation and fear, curiosity and insecurity. Pilgrims from other places connected by adventure

To challenge body and soul

Medieval town

Cobbled stones to gîtes, linen and jamón.

Eight centuries of pilgrims

Lighting Candles before exiting the Spain Gate.

My Love of Spain

2018-05-07T10:51:00.001-07:00

In 1981, the summer between my junior and senior year at UCLA, I studied in Madrid for six weeks. I had declared my Spanish major the previous September because I could graduate in four years with AP units and because I loved the language. I saw a flyer for the summer program with Bryn Mawr’s Centro de Estudios Hispánicos. I got accepted to the program with a scholarship. I packed my bags and backpack and began my first trip to Europe. Not many of my friends studied abroad, and no one in my family had traveled to Europe. Just a few years ago my mom told me she cried all the way back from the airport.

I had never been to a nation’s capitol, even our own. Madrid’s monuments, fountains, post office that looked like a palace, wide boulevards, narrow alleys and the expansive Retiro Park inspired me. I was taken by Spain’s romantic history of kings and queens, art, culture, buildings, the independence of food, I experienced the independence of travel and the journey with other students in discovering new things and learning together. I saw bullfights, drank red wine from a porron, ate jamon y queso, tortilla española, bocadillos, and I dreamed in Spanish. I remember calling home (long distance on a land line) and having a hard time thinking of a particular word I wanted to say in English.

Most of the students lived with host families; I lived outside of Madrid in Soto del Real and drove forty five minutes into Madrid with the director and two other students in her little Fiat. We spent time in this little village with local kids who taught us the Macarena and how to make sangria. Alfred was my roommate. He was a from Ossingen, a Swiss village outside Zurich, where later in the summer I visited him. We visited Lugano, Bern, and Lucerne, where I left my small stuff sack on the train with my passport, maps, American Express card and Travellers Cheques. Good news: when I got back from Zurich to get a new passport and card, Alfred’s mother made me a late dinner with sausage, homemade carrot salad and French fries (because I’m American), washed my clothes and sewed my frayed towel. Bad news: when my mom got my stuff sack in the mail, before I arrived back from Europe, she wondered whether or not I was alive!

I took classes on modern Spanish history, the monarchy to the civil war, the fascist dictator Generalissimo Francisco Franco to King Juan Carlos. For my professors, the oppression of Franco’s regime among intellectuals, artists and educators was still fresh in their memory. We read classic writers like Unamuno, and toured the Prada museum once a week with a local tapestry artist, Luis Gallardo. When we returned for sabbatical in 1997, we took the boys through the same portions of the Prado, enjoying the art in 90 minute segments.

On the weekends we toured Toledo, Segovia, Salamanca, Cuenca, Valle de los Caídos and El Escorial where Felipe II led the Spanish Inquisition. We saw castles and churches, and the room in Segovia where Columbus was welcomed back by Ferdinand and Isabella.

After the six week program, I left my bags in Madrid, packed my backpack with my bota and necessary clothes, and began my Eurail Pass adventure through Santiago de Compostela, León and Burgos (three cities we will visit on the Camino). I remember seeing the priests in the Cathedral of Santiago swing the censor attached to the tall ceiling and filling the cathedral with incense for the pilgrims. I remember the beautiful cathedral in León, and the statue of El Cid in Burgos. I traveled on to France, England, Ireland, Italy and Switzerland.

Along the way I met friends. Two architecture students from Penn State and I visited Rome and Florence together. I spent the night in a park in Paris with a college student from Nebraska because the hostels were full. I travelled to Nice with a friend from UCLA and her girlfriend. When we got to Nice, the two guys they were going to stay with said there wasn’t room for me, so I spent the night on the beach—until the police kicked everyone off and I followed some other students to a park where we could sleep the rest of the night. I slept under the stars in Interlaken and woke up to the amazing, Jungfrau. I took the ferry to Ireland and had a McClenahan coat of arms plaque made in a Dublin shop.

I returned to Madrid, picked up my other bags and flew back to LAX, not knowing if I’d ever return, but changed from the experience.

Amy and I first travelled together to Spain in 1986, our first year of marriage. The woman whose locker was next to Amy’s at the Y asked if we’d be interested in taking college students to Mallorca. We took four students we knew from Young Life and Glendale Presbyterian Church to a two week adventure in Bruce and Bonnie’s home in Sóller. It was on that trip that we all jumped off the thirty foot cliff into the Mediterranean waters. It took me a little longer to jump and the locals called me pollo.

This time around, we are spending a few days in Barcelona between leading our group in Israel and walking the Camino de Santiago. We have been in Barcelona only briefly once before. We were with our ten-year-old sons on sabbatical in 1997 where I spent most of my time working on my Doctor of Ministry final paper. We had just spent a few weeks traveling through France and Italy. We took an overnight train to Barcelona and woke up just before arriving at the station. The boys wanted to go to the café car for breakfast, but I wasn’t sure how much time we had. So, I asked them to wait until we were settled in the train station. We had to take a taxi across town from the Nord station to the Sant station and discovered our train was leaving in just 15 minutes.

We put all our bags on the train and I left to get some coffee and pastries for breakfast. When I returned, the train had left (too quiet, no “last call” or “all aboard” just “poof” and it’s gone). I stood on the platform with my box of donuts and coffee in not-to-go plastic cups. I left my passport, ticket and credit card on the train, and in the next hour convinced José, the station manager-in-training, to give me a “free” ticket to Madrid to meet up with my family. I arrived 90 minutes later than Amy, Brendan and Connor in Madrid. It was a great reunion with “I’m sorry” and “Where were you?”. That week we bought two cell phones. It was the beginning of a great adventure for all four of us… together.

We rented an apartment for two months. The boys went to school a few days with our realtor, who taught part-time. Amy and the boys had a tutor named Inigo come to our apartment to teach them Spanish. We had their tenth birthday party with kids they met in our apartment building. We walked all over Madrid. We made friends with an American missionary family living outside Madrid. We went to English language movies and ate paella.

I spent most of the days in Retiro Park reading and writing for my dissertation. A British woman sitting at a nearby table asked me what I was doing with my books and computer. I explained that I was a pastor on sabbatical working on my paper. “A vicar with a laptop?” She asked.

My childhood friend Tim and his family visited us in Madrid from Naples where he was stationed with NATO. Their kids and our kids celebrated July 4th with the best hamburgers we could make, travelled to Toledo, and rode buses all over Madrid singing This is the song that never ends…

A few weeks later we took a weekend trip to Sevilla, Nerja and Granada. As we entered the train station I saw José, now the station chief in Granada. Without missing a beat, he asked me “Where is your family?”

We took a weekend in July to drive up to the northern coast to find a place to stay for the last three weeks of our sabbatical, before returning to Paris and flying home. We arrived in San Sebastián on Friday night when Miguel Ángel was kidnapped by the Basque terrorists demanding a ransom and release of prisoners by the Spanish government. It was all over the news that this 30 something local politician was captured.

We drove into virtually every beach town looking for places listed in El País. We checked out a few casas de campo which sounded more romantic than the musty converted barns they were. Finally, we found an apartment in Comillas. By the time we returned to Madrid, Miguel Ángel had been killed and there were over a million peaceful protesters in Plaza de Colón shouting "¡Basta ya!" (Enough already). The government refused to negotiate and la ETA misjudged the Spanish people—it strengthened their resolve and weakened the terrorists’ standing. Just last week, la ETA announced they were ending their decades long fight and apologized for the violence.

The last time we were in Spain it was 2013. The church gave us a tenth anniversary gift and we took an eight day trip back to Madrid. We took only enough clothes to fit in a small daypack and walked everywhere. This time we will have a totally different adventure walking the Camino Frances, one of the many routes of the Camino De Santiago. A few facts about the Camino Frances:

The most popular pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela
Begins in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in the French Pyrenees and ends in Santiago de Compostela
500 miles or 800 kilometers
Established in Medieval times as the third pilgrimage after Jerusalem and Rome
The relics of St James (or Santiago or San Diego) are believed to be buried at the Cathedral
100,000s pilgrims (the term first established with this route) from all over the world walk the route
Every pilgrim gets their credentials stamped along the way in order to get a certificate—the minimum distance is 100 kilometers
Made popular with the movie “The Way” with Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez, and a less known documentary “Walking the Camino: Six Roads to Santiago”

We are looking forward to the adventure, giving thanks for all we see and meet, and carrying everything we’ll need on our backs. This is a spiritual pilgrimage—we will receive hospitality in the albergues, visit historic chapels and cathedrals built over the centuries for the pilgrims, and have a daily rhythm of prayer.

I’m grateful Amy and I have shared this passion for traveling and adventure in our thirty three years of marriage, and I’m grateful we can share this Camino together.

Israel in Eight Days - Part 2

2018-05-02T17:10:00.000-07:00

Our last day in Israel began with the Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial, which remembers the six million Jews killed in the holocaust, including 1.5 million children, with stories, maps, pictures, videos, and left-behind shoes. They were gathered from all over Europe, the Middle East and Africa to work, die, march, burn, and starve because they were Jewish.

The stories of those who were complicit begin with the Nazi party and officers, but extend to those who remained silent—some in the Church didn’t speak out and countries around the world refused to receive refugees. One story captures the inhospitality of other countries toward the refugees. The Saint Louis ship left Europe filled will Jews trying to escape to Cuba. After four days they were forcibly removed and sent to Miami, where they were also turned back to Antwerp. They divided into groups and entered back into danger, except for the few who were able to go to England. Much of the world rejected the Jewish refugees. They were turned away, often back to their death.

The Cantor sang songs of lament at the Valley of the Communities. We walked through the Children’s Memorial commemorating the children murdered during the Holocaust with five lights refracted by mirrors to display 1.5 million stars in the dark room. We walked the garden of the righteous, trees planted for Gentiles like Oskar Schindler and Corrie Ten Boom who rescued Jews.

I went to the Hall of the Names, the database that includes about four million “testimonies” of holocaust victims. Their names were collected from family and friends to verify their death and debunk the holocaust deniers. I searched for our guide’s family—his father’s wife, eleven year old daughter and nine year old sons were all murdered. His father married another survivor and had Ze’ev. They escaped through Slovakia to Israel in 1949 when he was just 18 months old. Ze’ev grew up in a kibbutz, served in the military and fought in all the wars. Walking through the memorials with him makes all of it so real and tangible.

Late morning we walked through the Second Temple steps and road that Jesus, his family and disciples would have walked when Jesus was a child, and when they came from Galilee to Jerusalem for the festivals. We saw the cornerstone which fell to the ground. We sat on the temple steps and reflected on the significance of the Temple as the place of the Holy of Holies, the foundation rock upon which Abraham was ready to sacrifice Isaac, and where currently stands the Dome of the Rock mosque. This is where the people came for festivals from all over the world, and yet it was destroyed in 70 AD. No longer could they come to the temple; no longer would there be sacrifices. Synagogues became places of prayer and worship, and decentralized Judaism and Churches became the place where the Holy Spirit dwelled among and in the people to be the “temple of the Holy Spirit” “wherever two or three of you join together.

Peter wrote to the first century church in northern, Central Asia Minor (Turkey), who were persecuted as they came back from Pentecost with the good news of Jesus in Bythinia, Cappadocia, Pontus and Galatia. Peter affirms who they are and who Jesus is in their midst:

     As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and
     precious to him—you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a
     holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For
     in Scripture it says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and
     the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.” Now to you who believe, this
     stone is precious. But to those who do not believe, “The stone the builders rejected has
     become the cornerstone,” and, “A stone that causes people to stumble and a rock that
     makes them fall.” They stumble because they disobey the message—which is also what
     they were destined for. But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation,
     God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of
     darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the
     people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.
     Dear friends, I urge you, as foreigners and exiles, to abstain from sinful desires, which
     wage war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they
     accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he
     visits us. (1 Peter 2:4–12 NIV)

This is the church—living stones built together into a spiritual house to bring praise to God, a royal priesthood, his people, a holy nation. As Paul teaches in Romans 11, we have been grafted into Israel as God’s chosen people. This is an essential ecclesiology for the early church and their mission. How would they spread the message of Jesus with no temple, no political or social power? Through the presence of the Holy Spirit in the Church whose churches all throughout the empire were empowered for their mission to declare God’s praises as those who have been delivered from darkness into light.

This is the church from the beginning of Acts—“wait here and you will receive power, and you will be my witnesses here in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and to the ends of the earth.” This is the Church. This is our church.

There are five reminders of the temple as we gather for worship at SBPC: (1) the tiles of the chapel are offset and varied in size and color to mimic the Jerusalem stone walls, (2) the steps up to the Patio are broken up by landings, like the steps up from the Kidron Valley and to the temple, (3) the water feature/fountain is like the purification baths adjacent to the temple reminding us of our baptism, (4) the date palm trees, and (5) the Jerusalem limestone communion table reminding us of the steps, the walls and the streets of the temple.

Later we walked through the City of David: the foundation of David’s temple, just to the south of the city walls where the Kidron Valley and the Valley of Gehenna intersect. We walked down the water project built by Hezekiah to divert water up to the city through the underground aqueduct—1,500 feet of darkness and cold water up to your knees, ending at the Pool of Siloam where Jesus asked the man born blind to wash in John 8.

We ended our day at the Garden Tomb (Golgotha, the empty tomb and the place of the resurrection) discovered 150 years ago. Our guide shared the skull-like face on the rock above the bus station and the importance of a personal relationship with Christ because of the cross and the resurrection. We walked through the tomb, shared insights from our trip about who God is, and shared communion.

Before and after our dinner, Amy and I transitioned our roller bags to backpacks with clothes and equipment for our two months in Spain. I’m excited about what 34 of us experienced together, and I’m very excited about what the two of us will experience together as we walk six hours a day from albergue to albergue on the Camino de Santiago.

Today we fly into Barcelona with some down time enjoying the pintxos, Sagrada Familia, and walking the city. We will begin the Camino around May 10.

Israel in Eight Days - Part 1

2018-05-02T17:01:00.001-07:00

It is 9:45am and we are at the Frankfurt airport, sitting on the Lufthansa connecting flight from Tel Aviv to Barcelona. We passed through security at 9:00pm in Tel Aviv with the majority of our group flying back to San Diego through San Francisco. Their flight was at 12:30am, and our flight left at 4:50am. We slept on the floor of the terminal, using our backpacks and jackets for pillows. We fell asleep exhausted and grateful for eight days leading our group of 34 through Israel. We landed in Frankfurt and grabbed a bratwurst and beer for breakfast.

We’ve just spent the last eight days touring Israel. We woke up at 6:00 every morning and walked five or six miles through ancient sites. So much time walking and talking, making new friendships and deepening old ones, sharing meals together and asking questions about what we were experiencing.

One day we began at the Church of the Beatitudes, eight walls for each of the blessings of the beatitudes. We read the first part of Matthew 5 three times, looking for a word or phrase God might have for each one of us. “Peacemakers” stood out to me. Thinking about the conflicts in Israel, Syria and around the world, we would do well to seek and make peace in our families and communities.

We continued an hour north to the foot of Mount Hermon, where Jesus asked his disciples “Who do you say that I am?” Caesarea Philippi is a dramatic place—formerly a place of human sacrifice, home of Pan, Zeus and Jupiter, and temples built into the cliff. It’s the headwaters of one of three streams that converge to form the Jordan River. Jesus was affirming his identity in the face of all other deities, and turning the disciples’ view of life upside down. Jesus is the living water that flows into and out of our lives like the Jordan flows into and out of the Sea of Galilee.

After we walked the Tel Dan trail overlooking the quiet, pastoral border of Lebanon and Syria, our guide took us up to the Golan Heights. Overlooking the United Nations compound in the middle of vineyards on the Syrian border, he told of the battles fought here. When he says “we” he means “me and those in my tank unit I commanded” or “the army I served in to protect the nation of Israel.”

“Blessed are the peacemakers…”

Coming down from the border of Syria, we stopped at Kursi, the place where Jesus healed the man possessed by Legion and cast the demons into the pigs. As we climbed up to the spot, we were met with wind, thunder, lightning and brown “dirty” clouds picking up dust and sand. We looked out on the lake where we had spent a calm beautiful morning just the day before, and saw the Sea of Galilee storm in action. In the story of Legion, the disciples had just crossed over with Jesus in a storm. After he calmed it, they said, “Who is this that even the waves and the wind obey him?” Jesus calmed two storms that day, and we were amazed with the timing of our visit.

“Blessed are the peacemakers…”

Turns out it was one of the worst storms in history, hailing in Tel Aviv and washing away a road in the Negev that killed nine young adults on a trip before their military service. But the rain paused long enough for us to celebrate our baptisms on the Jordan River. Amazing what scripture in a particular space does for our understanding. Calming storms, the waters of baptism flowing from Mount Hermon, renewing marriage vows in Cana, listening for God’s blessings that would make us the light of the world and salt of the earth.

The rain continued on top of Megiddo, the ancient tell with more than twenty layers of civilization, including Solomon’s stables. As we were overlooking the Valley of Armageddon, the rain began to pour and we ran to the underground cistern and tunnel. We sang Great is Thy Faithfulness on the stairs leading 150 feet down.

Ironically the story of Jesus is not well known here. Only 1.5% of the population is Christian. Sean and Jessica moved from Sacramento to this area to tell the story of Jesus in Nazareth and all over Israel. Sean shared with us on Mount Precipice, the place commemorating the time when Jesus was about to be forced off the cliff before slipping away through the crowd. He had just read the scroll of Isaiah in the synagogue and declared that this passage was being fulfilled in him. His hometown crowd went from praising him to cursing him because his message was proclaiming freedom and blessing for God’s people, but also the Gentiles. Now the Gentile couple from Sacramento is sharing the good news in the town where Jesus grew up.

The rain continued on our drive to Jerusalem, and by the time we approached our hotel, the roads were like rivers. Jerusalem, the rain is epic, biblical, awesome. Unfortunately the news of conflict and controversy is louder than reality. I love walking from our hotel to the Jaffa Gate with first timers. It’s a safe, beautiful city with stunning views of ancient walls and sites.

Early one morning we walked down the Mount of Olives to the Garden of Gethsemane, across the Kidron Valley and through the Sheep’s Gate to Bethesda, and to St. Anne’s Church where groups wait in line to sing in this church with perfect acoustics. We sang the Doxology.

Bethlehem was particularly special. We went to the Shepherd’s field and sang O Come All Ye

Faithful and descended to the cave where Jesus was born. We also went to Bethlehem Bible College to hear a short lecture on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict from a Palestinian Christian woman who teaches the New Testament. Grace and her husband Michael then hosted us for lunch at their church. Her father, Issa, is a pastor and her mother, Diana, roasts a mean chicken. They live in a modest community in Bethlehem. Their amazing hospitality humbled us. The Christians in the Palestinian Territories are being squeezed out between the Israeli limitations for work and travel and their own government that won’t pursue peace with Israel. It’s complicated, and there may not be any political solutions in the near future. But these are real people, brothers and sisters in Christ who are trying their best to love and bring hope in their communities through their faith in Jesus.

***Continued in Part 2***

Sunrise on the Sea of Galilee

2018-04-24T15:11:00.000-07:00

Waking up to the sunrise on the Sea of Galilee a beautiful and meaningful experience. The Lake of Kinneret is full of life—the result of the Jordan flowing down from Mount Hermon from the north and settling 600 ft below sea level. It's where Jesus met the first disciples, James and John, sons of Zebedee, and Andrew and Peter, all fishermen on this lake. Today we will go to Capernaum, Jesus' home-base, a border town that included Centurions and tax collectors.

Across the lake to the east are the Golan Heights in our day, and in Jesus' day it was the Gentiles—the Decapolis, Kursi and pigs. This is the place of faith testing—Jesus walking on the water with Peter, calming the storm, checking for fish on the other side.

This is the countryside. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful.

Yesterday, we drove up from Tel Aviv where we spent the night after our 14 hour flight from San Francisco. We started at Joppa, or Jaffa, where Jonah found a ship to run away from God, and where Peter ran toward Cornelius to share the good news of Jesus. Driving past surf beaches and embassies, we enjoyed the awesome Caesarea, the massive first century BC port and palace build by Herod the Great. This is where Paul left and returned for missionary journeys, and was brought bound from Jerusalem on his way to Rome.

Muhraka on Mount Carmel where Elijah battled the 450 prophets of Baal because he trusted in the power of God is one of the most panoramic spots. The roof top of the Monastery provides a view of the Mediterranean, where Elijah's men said they saw a cloud the size of a man's fist, the Kishon Brook where the 450 were slaughtered, and across the Jezreel, or Armageddon Valley, the significant mountains of Tabor, Gilboa and Moreh. Over one mountain range is Nazareth, where we will visit Friday.

We ended the day in Akko, a port with no biblical reference, but the capital city of the second Crusaders Kingdom of Jerusalem. It was a port town that welcomed pilgrims and traders, and where Hospitalers and Templar Crusaders built awesome moats, fortresses and halls for protection and hospitality.

But coming to Galilee is my favorite way to start the trip. This is where Jesus called the disciples to follow him, become fishers of men, be blessed as peacemakers and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. This is where Jesus walked.