Profound pre-Christian Ritual

After lunch, I had a little time to myself before the afternoon presentations. As I sauntered among the flower beds and rose garden, I thought of the intriguing sacred pre-Christian site that I had just learned about that I needed to prepare for, emotionally and spiritually. For some pilgrims, the ritual opportunity it offered was as profound as the act of receiving one’s Compostela certificate at the Cathedral of Santiago after completing the Camino.

The Cruz de Fierro was the most ancient monument along the entire Camino, dating back at least 2,500 years, to the Iron Age and the Celts and Romans. For centuries, at the highest point (4,938 feet) on the Camino Frances, the route between St. Jean Pied de Porte in France and Santiago de Compostela, travelers had paused to connect with the divine. The Romans had a tradition of marking high passes with small stones, showing gratitude for their safe passage to the god Mercury, the Patron Saint of Travelers.

Celtic Pole Topped with Christian Cross

In the 11^th century, a hermit named Gaucelmo raised an iron cross to the top of the towering still remaining trunk from an ancient sacred oak tree, claiming it as a significant Christian monument for the constantly passing pilgrims. The travelers continued the ritual of leaving small stones or other meaningful items that they picked up in the valley or brought from home and extended the intentions beyond gratitude for the safe journey, to forgiveness, contrition, or to what they hoped to release and let go of by their pilgrimage.

By now, the thousands of stones left through the centuries have created a mound about 25 feet tall. Some pilgrims leave notes to themselves or the universe, so many that the soon tattered pieces create a major trash gathering task. One woman carried the ashes of her mother to leave on the mound, since it was her mother that had been the greatest burden of her life. I pondered what I should bring.

Mid-Life Doldrums and 2 Major Traumas

I had not weathered my 5^th decade well. I had gone to Trinidad, a tiny town in southern Colorado when I turned 50, to spend a year in solitude after a couple of stressful years as executive director of a nonprofit supporting youth mental health. Dealing with the governmental bureaucracy and politics and the infighting and grants had taken a toll on my health and I just wanted a year of peace to write a book. I was all settled in when 9/11 hit and we didn’t know if the world would soon end. I had not yet recovered from the trauma of Columbine High School, where my sons’ stepbrother was shot 8 times and paralyzed, just two years in the past.

After Christmas things finally calmed down, and we realized there wasn’t going to be another attack right away. Then my mother had a heart attack. I gave up on spending my 50^th year in peaceful solitude and just packed everything up. I loved the little farmhouse I had rented, but I went to California because I didn’t know how much longer my mom would live and wanted to be closer to them. I got a great job teaching at a college in the desert but couldn’t deal with the oppressive heat and isolation. I was going through menopause, drinking too much and not exercising, so I moved back with my parents in Corona near LA, hoping to find a job near them. For a while, I was back in their household as their “little girl,” triggering my childhood trauma.

In my 30s I left a painful 14-year marriage. A second marriage lasted 6 years and then I had a-5 year relationship. I was desperate now to get out of the house and away from Mom, but now, embarking on my 6^th decade and nearing 62, I doubted that I’d ever have another man in my life.

I did create a personal profile and posted it on Match.com, but I was in a rather dull suburb of LA, that many considered not worth driving to and men my age usually listed younger women as their preference. Not much happened.

I had had a couple of fascinating relationships. The first one had promise, the second had none, but they were both very disorienting and I lost myself, trying to find my way. I tried to numb my unsettled feelings with wine, and I felt like I had fallen into a void that took me months to pull out of each time.

What Should I Leave at the Cross?

When I saw the presentation about the Iron Cross and wondered what I should let go of, the very first things that came to my mind were to quit drinking or at least cut down, and to quit sabotaging myself with the wrong men.

I headed into the mission for the next presentation to begin.

It was less than an hour drive from my parents’ home in Corona, an inland suburb of LA, to John Wayne Airport in Orange County, to pick up Sandy flying in from Denver, then continue north for a 2-hour drive to Santa Barbara for a four day orientation to the Camino. I was eager to learn more about the history of the ancient pilgrimage, and how to prepare for the 6-week walk. I was also excited to meet others who had completed the journey or were leaving soon. We were meeting at the “Queen of the Missions,” a living Historical Landmark, meaning a historical site in continuous use. It was founded in 1786 by the Franciscan Order, on the Feast Day of Santa Barbara, December 4. It was the 10^th mission out of 21 to be built in Alta or Upper California, as opposed to Baja or lower, California.

As I drove, Sandy read the brochure listing the program schedule and we marked which of the many offerings we each wanted to attend. We planned to attend many together and also made separate choices, sharing our notes afterwards. She leaned towards the practical information workshops on gear to take, how to pack light and logistics, like SIM cards and avoiding bedbugs, and I leaned more toward the spiritual journey and learning about the cuisine we could look forward to.

We arrived in plenty of time to settle into our sparse, monastery-like accommodations and then made our way towards the dinner hall. As we walked through the grounds and courtyard we noticed how lovely they were full of sub-tropical flowers, 1500 rose bushes, palm trees, a 200-year-old fig tree and statues.

We took seats at one of the long tables and immediately engaged in lively conversations in every direction. I had never felt so at home with a large group of people. We automatically connected through our love of Spain and its culture, the foods, the music and the Spanish language, travel and a yearning for spiritual journeys. We were mostly all over 60, since younger people had a harder time getting away from their jobs and raising children, so we had our age in common, too. Each meal during our 4 days would introduce us to the unique cuisines and wines of the ancient regions we would encounter along the way, from the Basque region of the Pyrenees through Navarra, La Rioja, Castilla y Leon and finally to Galicia and Santiago.

I woke the next morning looking forward to learning all I could about the trip and Sandi share my eagerness. We attended general orientation workshops where experienced pilgrims explained the various lodging possibilities, about the food availability and the Pilgrim’s Menu of the Day, found at every hostel and restaurant, what to budget and expect for the expenses, and transportation options to arrive at our choice of starting point.

After lunch, Sandi took off to the “How to Pack Light” session, while I attended the interactive “Dimensions of the Hidden Camino: Angels and Demons, Blessings and Challenges,” which promised to guide us through an exploration of the spiritual and psychological dimensions of the journey and the return. I found myself wondering what was going to come up for me. Each workshop was a thrilling, unique, rich learning experience. I imagined myself experiencing nature up close as the landscapes changed along the way, and sensing the wonder of stepping in the footprints of the thousands of pilgrims who had walked before me for the 13 centuries.

Each evening we felt deeply enriched by unique cultural and historical entertainment, and a movie night with popcorn, where we got to see less-known Camino movies and a Cabaret Night, “evocative of evenings at the Albergue, where pilgrims share tales, songs, and camaraderie.” Ciaramella, a group of medieval/late Renaissance musicians treated us to a rare concert of intricate 15^th century counterpoint on ancient instruments.

At the end of the week, the Shell Ceremony honored those departing on their first Camino, The Mission priest recited English and Spanish blessings for the journey. We then read the “Beatitudes of the Journey” together, responsively.

Beatitudes of the Pilgrim

1. Blessed are you, pilgrim, if you discover that the Camino opens your eyes to what is not seen.

2. Blessed are you, pilgrim, if what concerns you most is not to arrive, as to arrive with others.

3. Blessed are you, pilgrim, when you contemplate the Camino and you discover it is full of names and dawns.

4. Blessed are you, pilgrim, because you have discovered that the authentic Camino begins when it is completed.

5. Blessed are you, pilgrim, if your knapsack is emptying of things and your heart does not know where to hang up so many feelings and emotions.

6. Blessed are you, pilgrim, if you discover that one step back to help another is more valuable than a hundred forward without seeing what is at your side.

7. Blessed are you, pilgrim, when you don’t have words to give thanks for everything that surprises you at every twist and turn of the way.

8. Blessed are you, pilgrim, if you search for the truth and make of the Camino a life and of your life a way, in search of the one who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

9. Blessed are you, pilgrim, if on the way you meet yourself and gift yourself with time, without rushing, so as not to disregard the image in your heart.

10. Blessed are you, pilgrim, if you discover that the Camino holds a lot of silence, and the silence of prayer, and the prayer of meeting with the Father who is waiting for you.

Next, as the priest read these words, another priest lowered a leather cord carrying a lovely white scallop shell over our heads.

“For you, immortal pilgrim, now that you are on the Camino, may the love and peace of God be with you always. And may you, attentive to His voice, pass through the countryside sowing goodness. Receive this shell, the badge of a pilgrim, that all may recognize you as a pilgrim to Santiago de Compostela.”

It was hard to contain tears of joy when the priest circled my neck with the shell and blessed me. It was so hard to believe that this moment had truly arrived. I was now officially a Pilgrim.

A Magnetic Pull on my Heart and Soul

It was 2012 and a decade had passed since I saw my very first issue of the AARP magazine featuring Shirley McLaine walking the Camino de Santiago on the cover. I was dismayed at seeing the actress who was writing about her rather preposterous metaphysical explorations accomplishing a trek that was a serious goal of mine. I rolled my eyes imagining what silliness she would create. A few years later, my two friends, one from South Dakota, the other one from Sweden posted themselves on the Camino on Facebook. They probably hadn’t even known about the Camino till recently, while it had been a deep, magnetic pull in my heart and soul since learning about it during my graduate studies Spanish Literature 38 years earlier. In 2010, “The Way,” with Martin Sheen was released. It intensified my yearning to walk the 500 miles myself.

I was back in Denver, enjoying being part of a lively wellness center with my practice in hypnotherapy and sound healing. I had always at least offered these on the side, along with my college teaching and work in youth mental health and violence prevention for the past 26 years.. The center founder, Katie, and her mother, Sandra, both vivacious women, lived in the top floor of the 3-story Victorian building where all us practitioners had lovely offices and offered workshops. The center was nestled on a side street in a lively area in the downtown historic district. They walked everywhere around the Denver metro area, no matter the weather

A Walking Partner

Sandi was 71 and I was 61, but she seemed like a potential walking partner for me to start tentatively training to maybe, possibly, soon walk the Camino. I told her about the new Camino movie, “The Way,” that had come out a couple of years before (2010) and she rented it. She knew nothing about its history or about Spain, but she was always up for a new challenge. “Katie and I watched it together and I think it would be fun, but Katie thought it was silly. When I told her I wanted to do it with you, she frowned and asked if I would be safe at my age. “I said, sure I am and I’m going.” I was thrilled. One baby step closer to Santiago.

We started meeting to walk around a lovely park for 2 miles or so. I would drive to meet her, walk, and almost die of exhaustion before I got back to my car, but she would have already walked 2 miles from the Nourished Health Wellness Center to get there and then would be walking another 2 miles back to get home.

Despite the great gap in our walking capacities, Sandi was up for doing the Camino with me. It felt like it was my first tiny step towards being on the Camino. My heart skipped a few beats with excitement. Of course, my doubts about whether I could make it very far once I started walking never left me. Afterall, I was always the kid in PE class left standing at the end of picking teams for baseball and other sports. “Now, who has to take Vicki?

Where were the Funds?

Yet, I still wanted to try, but at the same time, it was hard to get motivated to train very earnestly, because there was another more immediate question hanging over my planning-how I was going to come up with the money.

I learned that since they were so close to Spain already, many Europeans did the walk in segments during their vacations, but for Americans, it was much more costly. Of course, as everyone did, we needed to invest in top-notch hiking boots and poles, a sturdy backpack, guides, a flashlight, and other small pieces and find affordable lodging. But for the North and South Americans, Koreans, Australians, and New Zealanders, after buying our round-trip airline tickets, we knew we needed to complete the whole thing. We weren’t able to pop over to do a week at a time like European pilgrims, so we needed enough money to pay for food and lodging for 5-6 weeks and be able to be away from our jobs for that long.

I just didn’t have the funds for it. I racked my brain, scanning for forgotten pockets of money I had stashed away or wondering if I had an unknown great-uncle who would be dying soon and leaving me an unexpected inheritance.

Then, my dad had a health crisis, during the fall of 2012, and I felt the need to get back to Southern California to be there for my parents. I quickly closed up shop at the wellness center and moved in with my parents in Corona, a town south of LA, in the Inland Empire.

A Gathering of the American Pilgrims of the Camino

Dad recovered quickly, but I decided to stay for a while to offer support to my parents. My dream of walking the Camino came with me and I started looking online for connections and resources and learned of the American Pilgrims on the Camino, a national organization with over a thousand members and that there were regional chapters all across America. I also saw that they had a yearly national Gathering where past pilgrims and those who were hoping and planning to walk met to share stories, resources, tips, and the love of Spanish culture, creating an incredible community.

The next Gathering was coming up soon in Santa Barbara, with the intriguing theme of “The Hidden Life of the Camino” and Sandi made plans to join me.

I loved the description offered in the organization’s newsletter, “La Concha (the shell, the scallop shell being the symbol of the Camino).” Besides the usual sessions on how to pack light and how to take care of your body, especially blisters, and advice on the best gear to buy, the “Hidden” presentations would introduce us to the birds that we might hear but not even see along the way and even how to deal with our own inner demons and angels.

When I think of James, the simple fisherman turned disciple, then preacher, arising from the cave where he had been quietly resting for 750 years to lead the Christians to battle, I wonder if anyone took him aside to fill him in on the amazing transformation that Christianity had gone through during those years.

Early Christianity had been a grass-roots, often women-sponsored religion.

Rather than a loosely organized grass-roots religion where many women sponsored and hosted “house churches,” females were blocked, starting in the first centuries, from leadership roles. Although some female names in strong roles still exist in the New Testament, like references to Lydia (Acts 16:11-40), Nympha (Col. 4:15) and Mary, the mother of John Mark (Acts 12:12), some scholars believe that many of the women’s names from that early time were changed to the masculine form to erase their strong involvement in the formation of the church, such as Junia/Junias, Apollonia/Apollonius (McDonald lecture notes, Junia Project)

Martyrdom

Although they were excluded from official roles, they were not excluded from martyrdom. Around CE 198, a 22-year-old woman, Perpetua, had a spiritual awakening during a dream. She was imprisoned for sharing her faith and then led a resistance from prison in a group mostly of clergymen. They were all killed, but Perpetua and her servant, Felicitas were thrown into the pit with the gladiators to be speared and beheaded for the entertainment of the crowd at the stadium.

The Romans that had beheaded him and martyred many of his friends and hundreds more in the centuries to follow had gradually converted to Christianity, especially after the emperor, Constantine, who ruled from 306-337 took the step. Some say a dramatic dream convinced him to turn to Christianity, while others believed that he could see that Christianity could be a unifying force throughout the entire empire.

Christianity Adopted Many Elements from the Roman Courts

Christianity organically morphed into a truly Roman institution, with a hierarchical imperial governmental structure with centralized leadership, and similar architecture, clothing styles, days of worship and holidays and even rituals, such as the use of incense.

Papal authority was modeled after that of the emperor, with territories divided into geographical units of diocese and parishes similar to the Roman political units.

Since early Christians mostly met in hiding at the time James traveled to Spain and probably had never visited Rome, I would have like to have seen his face as he stepped into his first cathedral. The long architectural form known as a basilica, with pillars in the front, was modeled after imposing judicial buildings. The priestly vestments were designed after the fashions of wealthy Roman men. The use of candles and incense and even “many elements of the liturgy were adapted from imperial court ceremony.” (Molloy) Even up until the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), mass was still conducted in Latin.

Christians had continued to live in hiding and terror for the first 2 centuries of the early church, sometimes existing in dark catacombs, a network of tunnels under Roman streets. Now, the new targets were those who resisted conversion.

Day of Worship Moved from Jewish Sabbath to Sunday.

Soon after the Crucifixion, the official day to worship was moved from the longstanding 7^th day Sabbath of the time of Moses and the 10 commandments to Sunday, the traditional day for Romans to worship the Sun, Besides being convenient for the new Roman converts, the previously Jewish converts were also ready for the shift to a new day to leave Judaic traditions behind, making the transition remarkably smooth.

The earliest Christians had many debates about which Jewish tradition should still be honored, and which should be let go. A closer look was taken at the 4 Commandment which states that its intent had been to rest after creation and considering each day of creation to last one thousand years, some saw that there was finally closure and now was the time for new life on the 8^th day. After such challenging times, most believers were ready for an era of rebirth and new beginnings and since Jesus’ resurrection was on Sunday, it made sense to now worship and celebrate on the 8^th day.

Romans often thought of the Jewish day of rest and no work as idleness. Christians that were slow to relinquish previous traditions were called “Judaizers.” Since Sunday coincided with the Roman day of veneration of the Sun God, it was easy to fit in with the rest of society’s work schedule. So, the new arrangement worked well for a variety of reasons and for many people.

December 25 designated as Christ’s birthday.

And, although Jesus was born during the springtime, December 25 was designated as the day to celebrate his birth, coinciding with the celebration of the Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, a few days after the Winter Solstice. Many images of Jesus started showing rays of sunlight extending from around his head, similar to the image on coins of the emperor, as Sun God.

Christianity Proclaimed the Official Religion of the Roman Empire.

Constantine encouraged church leaders to get more formally organized and to define the official doctrines, disciplines and rituals uniformly. Three hundred eighteen Church Fathers met in Asia Minor (now Turkey) in 325 at what was termed, the Council of Nicaea. After sometimes fiery debate, the Nicaean Creed was adopted as the foundational profession of faith, and Christianity was soon proclaimed the official religion of the Roman Empire.

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Sources

Lecture notes, Iliff School of Theology, Dennis McDonald, PhD, 1994),

https://juniaproject.com/more-than-footnotes-part-1-women-early-church)

Experiencing the World’s Religion: Tradition, Challenge, and Change, 2008, Michael Molloy, p. 375.

A Shrine for Santiago

The small shrine constructed to house and protect Santiago’s remains was soon replaced with larger churches, only to be raided and rebuilt over the centuries, and a steady stream of pilgrims arrived to honor him, forgiveness for their sins and crimes and to receive blessings. While many came from other places in Spain, a large percentage walked from France, Germany and Norway and Sweden and even Armenia. Others sailed to Spain’s northern coast from England and Ireland.

The era of the 10^th through the 11^th centuries was the height of intense veneration of relics, sacred objects or physical remains of holy people. They were believed to connect one to heaven and could bestow many spiritual benefits and often miracles. While usually relics were carefully cordoned off or covered by fabric, a tomb or glass, at the shrine at Santiago de Compostela, one could touch the altar and put one’s arms around the statue of St. James, often an emotional embrace.

The Three Sacred Pilgrimages of Medieval Christendom

The trek to Santiago joined the other two revered pilgrimages of medieval Christendom. Jerusalem and Rome. Jerusalem was significant because Jesus lived and was crucified there. Rome was important because that is where Christianity was organized and institutionalized by Constantine in the 4^th century. For many Europeans, the north of Spain was a much closer pilgrimage. If you made it to Jerusalem, you were bequeathed the honorable designation as a Palmer and you would bring home a palm frond home with you to prove it. If you got to Rome, you earned the designation of Romero. Since the routes to Santiago were not well populated and filled with many hazards, and because scallops are so plentiful in Galicia, you earned the label of Peregrino/Peregrina (Pilgrim) and you came home with a scallop shell, a Coquille St. Jacques.

Rewards of Forgiveness and Assorted Blessings

Of course, emblems and new labels weren’t the main inspiration for leaving their homes for a round trip that might last a year or more and facing unknown dangers and possible death. Most of the pilgrims were devout Christians (the only form of Christianity at that time was Catholicism). Many were eager to earn what were called indulgences to release them from the consequences of their sins and spend less time after death in Purgatory, a fiery, transitional place where a soul was cleansed before being allowed into heaven. Indulgences could fortunately be shared, like coupons, with loved ones, so valuable were they to people at that time. Some pilgrims were ill and hoping for healing, so many died along the way. (They still do. On my walk in 2013, I saw very recent crosses. Quite sobering). The seeker might also be asking for healing for a loved one. Other pilgrims were sent by their villages to request rain for their crops.

For the sinners, a 13^th century catalogue promised that if you completed the entire journey, you would be entitled to the remission of 1/3 of your sins. If you died and never made it all the way, you were rewarded with a total remission, your slate wiped clean. Once you were in Santiago de Compostela, if you participated in a procession, 40 days would be subtracted from your time in purgatory. If a mitered bishop led the procession, you would be released 200 days earlier. The list continued to specify the savings you earned by attending mass along the way, depending on the level of authority of the officiant and where it was located on the path. There were also lists to let you know the time savings from Purgatory dependent on how far you walked or if you rode a donkey or horse and many other specifics. (Gitlitz, 345).

Who Were the Pilgrims?

Besides these devout believers, James Michener, in his in-depth writings about Spain, Iberia, lists six additional major groups.

A second group of pilgrims were knights on horseback, with their ladies and entourage. They had promised to do the Camino if they survived a battle.

Third, there were people of the Church, like monks, priests and nuns, as well as many high-ranking clergymen, who also were hoping for blessings and forgiveness.

Fourth, there were increasing numbers of those there only to make money, by selling a variety of wares or to offer many needed services. Another common way to make money was for hearty walkers to earn the Compostela, in order to sell it to someone who needed salvation but didn’t want to venture from home.

Fifth, there was quite a large group of robbers, beggars and petty criminals. The robbers and thieves could spend years living along the Camino. The petty criminals may have been told in court to either go to jail or walk the Camino and they chose to walk.

And sixth, many were sent by other regions to report back about what was happening politically with all the incoming traffic and new developments. Other governments, from England to France and Italy were very interested in this strategic strip of northern Spain that extended from France to Portugal and had a coast on the Bay of Biscay that extended along the French coast to England and Ireland.

Legend says that Charlemagne visited the shrine, although the historical timing doesn’t match up. But then there was a succession of the rich or famous. King Alfonso 11 arrived in Santiago in 813. El Cid, Campeador, the Great Knight of the Reconquest and Spain’s national hero, came in 1064, Avery Picaud visited from France in 1130 and wrote one of the world’s first travel guides, King Louis V11, arrived in 1154 and St. Francis of Assisi in 1214. Many more were to follow.

A sequel will cover more growth, then a great decline during the Protestant Reformation when indulgences were scorned and then a resurgence of interest in the last 100 years, especially in the 60’s, leading to public complaints in 2025 about over tourism. I’m so glad I went when I did in 2013!

The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago: The Complete Cultural Handbook, David M. Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson, 2000.

Iberian Invaders

At the time of the Apostle James’ burial in Northern Spain, the Iberian Peninsula had been invaded by the Romans and many diverse groups, including Germanic tribes, including the Visigoths. Not encountering any unified resistance, the Visigoths moved in easily and organized the foundations of a strong government. They gradually converted to Christianity and made inroads into the regional pagan beliefs during the 5^th to 8^th centuries. The northern area, now known as Galicia was heavily influenced by the Celtic culture and many of the traditions, symbols and music still survive.

In 711 CE a Muslim military force crossed the Straits of Gibraltar from Northern Africa and invaded the peninsula from the south. The Visigoths were by that time experiencing infighting and drought, enabling an easy conquest by the Moors, who named their new territory, “Al Andalus.” Although the invaders conquered territory as far north as France, many Christian groups survived in hiding and began to band together to gradually move south, to form what was called the “Christian Reconquest. It was an effort that would last 800 years.

Celestial Music and Stars Lead to St. James

In 812 or 814, in the region where James was buried, a Christian hermit named Pelayo, hearing celestial music, looked up into the heavens and saw bright lights that led him to a cave on a hillside. Understanding the significance of the stars, he was drawn to excavate the area and dug up three intact bodies. He reported his experience and discovery to the local bishop, Teodomiro, who accompanied him to the site and declared the non-decomposed bodies as belonging to St. James and two of his disciples.

The timing was surely Divine Synchronicity because many believed that the Muslims’ great success in the many battles to conquer Spain was due to having one arm of the Prophet Mohammed to carry with them into battle. Now, the Christians had an entire sacred body.

First Royal Pilgrimage to Santiago

A small chapel was built to enshrine the three bodies and pilgrims started arriving to honor St. James and in hope of healing, protection, freedom, blessings, and a reduction of time in spent in Purgatory. King Alfonso of Asturias made the first royal pilgrimage between 818 and 842 and in 950, a French bishop was the first pilgrim from outside Iberia, traveling on old Roman roads and crossing the Pyrenees. (Bahrami, 503).

Fisherman, Disciple to Fiery Warrior on a White Horse

Within a few years, James experienced a dramatic metamorphosis from his humble life on earth as a simple fisherman and failed preacher to become a fierce leader, leading the Christians to victory. In the legendary battle of Clavijo, in 844 (so “legendary” that now it’s doubted that it ever occurred) he appeared in the sky as a warrior on a white horse, swinging a spear at hundreds of Moors. He was now “Santiago Matamoros,” the “Moor-slayer,’ leading the Reconquest of Spain. Centuries later, his fiery image would be used to drive out the long-established Jewish population and to claim the New World for Spain.

Mohammed was said to have ridden a white horse into heaven, so now the Christians had Santiago on a white horse. (More about this later.)

Sources, Iberia, Michener, The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago, Gitlitz and Davidson, Camino de Santiago: Sacred Sites, Historic Villages, Local Food & Wine, Bahrami.

Jesus Inviting his First Disciples-A New Testament Story

As Jesus began preaching his message- “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand,” he started inviting men to join him to help to spread the new gospel throughout the Land of Israel. As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two sets of brothers fishing. He called out to the first two, Peter and Andrew, as they were casting their nets,

“’Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men’ and they immediately left the nets and followed him. Going on from there, he saw the others, James and John, mending their net with their father.” Matthew 4:17-22

Although their volatile tempers had earned them the nickname, the “Sons of Thunder (See Alternative Version),” he called out his invitation to them, too.

“They immediately left their nets and their father, Zebedee, and followed Him, as He traveled “about in all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every kind of disease and every kind of sickness among the people.”

Traditions & Imaginative Legends

Knowing that his time on Earth was limited, Jesus divided up the known world among his disciples, twelve by now, to ensure that his message would continue to spread. He delegated the Iberian Peninsula to James and sent the others to Ethiopia, India, Persia, and Armenia.

James, the Fisherman, Goes to Spain

After Jesus’s crucifixion in 29 C.E., James landed on the coast of what would become Spain, sailing as far north as Galicia, along the northern coast and just east of the territory that would become Portugal. The Pagans had little interest in hearing the New Gospel of Jesus and James was only able to win over seven followers to Christianity. Feeling a failure, he decided to return to the Holy Land. There is a strong tradition in Spain that as he made his way south, an apparition of Jesus’ mother, the Virgin Mary, visited him in Zaragoza to acknowledge his accomplishment, presenting him with the column that Jeus had been tied to during his flogging, before being hung on the cross. This excruciating scene is often artistically portrayed as the Christ at the Column or the Scourging at the Pillar.

She also asked James to oversee the construction of chapel to honor her son. He delayed his journey till the completion of “La Iglesia de la Virgen Pilar,” Pilar becoming inspiration for the common women’s name throughout the Hispanic world.

James, the Failed Preacher, Returns to Jerusalem

James then sailed back to Jerusalem and was soon beheaded by Herod Agrippa, in 44 C.E., becoming the first disciple to be martyred, the only story of martyrdom mentioned in the Gospels.

“Now about that time Herod the king laid hands on some who belonged to the church, in order to mistreat them. And he had James the brother of John put to death with a sword.” Acts 12:2.

While heaven did not intervene to prevent James’ beheading, his dearest friends did find that his head had been restored to his dead body when they exhumed him in great secrecy to return him to Spain for a proper burial.

Voyage to Spain on Ship of Stone

Once they successfully got him to the port at Jaffa, heaven did get involved, providing a ship made of stone, with no sails, oars or sailors that silently made its way across the Mediterranean Sea, past the Strait of Gibraltar and then turning north along the western coast of what later became Portugal, past Finisterre, meaning the End of the World, to arrive after a seven-day journey, at Iria Flavia, the northern port of Galicia, now known as Padrón. Somehow, James’ small group of disciples somehow knew to meet the boat. Temporarily, to allow time to find a proper burial place, they lifted his body off the boat onto a flat boulder, which immediately curved to envelop the body.

Miraculous Burial

Unable to find a suitable location, they resorted to inquiring at the palace of the regional Queen Lupa. She agreed to provide a burial plot if they could accomplish several feats. Somehow, each time, the disciples met the challenge. She was impressed, yet she still demanded one more trial. If they were able to yoke two fierce, untamed, wild oxen, they could carry the body to a nearby hill to be buried. Heaven helped again, by calming the animals. As if they had the sense that the body was holy cargo, they peacefully surrendered and voluntarily placed their necks in the yoke and gently sauntered up the hill.

There, in an unmarked cave, James would lie undisturbed, for 750 years.

Alternative Versions of the Story

Rather than being called the” Sons of Thunder” (Boanerges) for their volatility, Jesus gave them the nickname due to their intense enthusiasm at spreading the Gospel

Interesting Aside

Salome, the wife of Zebedee, was the sister of Jesus’ mother, Mary, so James and John were Jesus’s cousins. She was quite wealthy and covered many of the group’s expenses, possibly even including the cost of the “Last Supper.” (Iberia, 715).

Sources

Iberia: Spanish Travels and Reflections, by James Michener, 1968.

New American Standard Bible.

The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago: The Complete Cultural Handbook, David M. Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson, 2000.

The sound of the mail truck pulling away on the rural highway gave me an excuse to get away from the computer where I was writing. I walked the hundred steps to the dirt shoulder of the rural highway, opened the rickety mailbox, and pulled out a newspaper I knew I hadn't ordered. I looked at it and said, “Damn, damn, and then damn,” again, as I not only recognized the publication, but also the woman featured on the cover. Two blows to the depths of my heart and soul. Glad no one could hear me. That wasn’t my usual way to speak.

Oh, my, I could not believe it.

It was my very first issue of the AARP! The American Association of Retired Persons had somehow found me and realized it was my birthday. It was October 1, 2001, and I had just turned 50 this very day. A few months before, I had moved way out, far from Denver, into the country for solitude, twelve miles down a winding road out of Trinidad, a tiny historic town in southern Colorado, right by the border with New Mexico. I was there to write, to just be by myself, and regroup after a grueling time dealing with politics and bureaucracy as the Executive Director for a state-wide nonprofit for children’s mental health.

My plan was to write a book, heal, and figure out the rest of my life. It was very quiet and the little farmhouse I was staying in was isolated, and yet now, looking at the newsletter in my hands, I felt like there must be a big all-knowing eye in the sky watching me. These were pre-Siri, Google Maps or satellite days, but somehow this Big Eye in the Sky had pinpointed me as the latest Baby Boomer to turn 50 years old and deserved to get her first issue of the standard newspaper for the aged. It was a shock. I wasn't ready for it. “This newspaper is for old people, not me. Oh, no, this can’t be happening.”

But the worst part of it was that the woman on the cover was Shirley MacLaine walking the Camino de Santiago. I muttered “damn” again. Why? Why her? What does she even know or care about the Camino? It's just another silly adventure for her, full of fanciful stories to invent and document for her next metaphysical book. Even though the books had gotten sillier and more outlandish all the time, I confess I still read them all. But her latest was just really too much, and I figured that this one would be too, and spoil the Camino for me.

It was so upsetting.

I walked back to the house and looked at the article. Sure enough, her latest book had just come out called The Camino: A Journey of Spirit. “Spirit,” I bet. I’d read enough of her books to know it would be just another novel adventure for her to showcase more of her past-life romances with knights and kings, and former lives as an Egyptian princess, as an orphan raised by elephants, or as a model for Toulouse Lautrec.

I thought back to long, long time ago when I was still young. It was 1977 and I was twenty-four, working on my master's in Spanish Literature. For our master's exams to earn our degree, we were responsible for being familiar with all the literature written in the Spanish language, from the early development of the Spanish language from Vulgar Latin (vulgar meaning everyday Latin spoken by the Roman soldiers) all the way to the present in Spain, and then also all the countries in Latin America that were Spanish-speaking, so that included a lot of literature. Novels, essays, plays and poetry.

That year, out of all the places and eras, I was most drawn to the study of Medieval Literature, At the same time, I was taking a course in Spanish Culture and Civilization and the supplemental reading, along with our academic text, included James Michener’s tome, Iberia. I was especially intrigued to read about the ancient pilgrimage called the Camino de Santiago. Thousands of people from Ireland to Scandinavia, Germany, France packed a small bag, took off from their doorsteps and walked hundreds of miles to reach the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, in Northern Spain.

They were soldiers and priests and nuns and prostitutes. There were criminals that had been told by the judge that they could either walk the Camino or go to jail, and some people were sent by their villages to try to plead for the blessing of rain to save their crops, or others that went that knew they might not have long to live, hoped for healing. I was fascinated. Way before the term “bucket list” was popularized it became a dream of mine, to somehow find the old, overgrown, neglected path and take the journey myself.

Well, I got pregnant the last month of graduate school, and my husband and I moved back to Colorado, in with my parents in Denver. They were world travelers and always up for another adventure, so we made plans to go to Spain with the baby in a Snuggly backpack and at least explore the remnants of the Camino by car. But baby Jesse was premature and came close to death many times with what was diagnosed as SIDS, sudden infant death syndrome, so I couldn’t take a shower or run the vacuum home alone for a year. I needed to be able to hear the monitor in case he quit breathing and run to arouse him enough to breathe again. Separations, another son and then a divorce followed and soon I was raising my kids as a single mother. Survival mode for years, certainly no money for travel.

My dream of the Camino faded away. Once in a while it surfaced again with a yearning and ache in my heart, knowing that I needed to be on the Camino, that I was meant to do it somehow.

I got older and older, of course, and more sedentary, as the kids left home and I was working in nonprofits and teaching college. Finally, when I thought of walking the Camino, I realized in middle age, that I was so sedentary I wasn't even sure I should attempt a long walk. I had become the type of person that would park closest to the entrance at the grocery store, so I didn't have to walk very far through the parking lot. Who was I to believe that I could walk 500 miles?

By that time, I was teaching at a small community college in the desert in Southern California. I checked to see how far the college was from home and thought maybe I should at least start trying to walk to work to get some exercise. I knew it'd be good for me anyway, but it just didn't happen. After growing up in the lush tropics, in Puerto Rico, the desert was very unappealing to me. I sat at my desk for hours and hours and graded hundreds and hundreds of papers and only walked as far as the kitchen or bathroom. Many of my students were in the State Prison, so with distance education, I didn’t even have to walk to different classrooms during the day.

I was looking at Facebook during a break one day, and gasped. My old friend Bonnie was on the Camino! She had been my boarding school roommate when I was in 10th grade, and she was in 9^th. She had come from South Dakota, and I had just come from Puerto Rico two years before. South Dakota was the state with the very least ethnic diversity, mostly settled by Germans and Scandinavians, and she was of Polish and Eastern European ancestry. When I told her about my childhood in Puerto Rico, being immersed in Latino culture, it seemed hard for her to imagine what that might be like. Now there she was on the Camino. I didn't begrudge her being there instead of me, but what did she know about the culture and the language and everything that had magnetized me for years, that had drawn me into the rich lore and legends and history of what the Camino meant? Maybe it was kind of silly, but down deep I kind of hoped that everyone who walked it appreciated the opportunity as much as I would have if I ever was that lucky, and had taken the time to learn about its history and significance. Maybe she had. I just wondered.

I read that she was writing a master’s thesis on the value of exercise for school children and had developed a program for students, so was this just an act of physical exercise for her? Just like in Colorado, people like to brag about how many “fourteeners” they've climbed, that is the mountain peaks over 14,000 feet, as a kind of trophy. Was the Camino like that for her, just to show she could do it? It stirred up the yearning in me once again, to see if I could do it, to get out there and experience it . She was certainly very capable physically for the challenge, but it still gave me hope. She was a real person, like me. It inspired me to believe that if Bonnie could walk the Camino, I could do it and needed to do it.

A few years later, I saw a Swedish friend on the Camino walking with her sister on Facebook. We were graduate students together, not in the Spanish master’s program, but in a later MA at Iliff School of Theology. She had returned to Sweden and there she was now on the Camino. I'm doubted that she knew any Spanish. What did she know about Spanish culture, the history? Was it just a fun thing to do with her sister?

I was crestfallen once again, not envious that she was doing something that I hadn’t been able to do, but because my own dream had turned into a mirage. I well knew I wasn't getting younger, I was more sedentary than ever, never a “couch potato” watching TV, but a “reading potato.” I didn’t begrudge her one bit, it was cool to see her out there, but I declared out loud to myself, “I have to walk the Camino somehow.” My yearning intensified, especially since soon I was going to turn 60. I remembered that Shirley MacLaine did it at 62 but she had been a dancer all her life. She was in shape, and I hadn’t been in shape for 20 years or more, if ever. I didn’t even do well in PE. I knew if I got much older it would never happen with my muscles already wasting with age and non-use. I had to make it happen. But how?

Well, first of all, I had to leave my teaching job with the promise of tenure and an interesting variety of classes to teach and escape the desert where I was living t make sure I survived. The heat and isolation were withering me into a prune, not only my skin and body, but also my spirit and soul.

I sold my cute house with a backyard full of orange, grapefruit, lemons and fig trees, left my interesting, promising, well-paying teaching job and moved in with my parents in Corona, a suburb inland from LA and Orange County, closer to the beach that I’d continually missed from my childhood on the Caribbean island of Puerto Rico. I looked forward to feeling more at home in a subtropical environment, as I figured out how to create my Camino dream

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What I noticed even before I walked the Camino, while I was still gathering information and attending my first American Pilgrims on the Camino conference, was the instant camaraderie, and how much I had in common with everyone. I felt at home, like never before, and it has continued. Having an interest in the Camino means that we are probably connected through our love of Spanish culture and language, being out in nature, spiritual/personal growth and great food.

Here we can share all of it and regain the sense of community we had for our 6 weeks or so. It doesn’t need to end and can keep enriching our lives.

I’ll be sharing my favorite photos along the Camino Francés, in 2013. As I post, I will also be sharing some reflections, interesting historical and religious stories, magical legends, memories of my childhood in Puerto Rico and what created my lifelong fascination with the Camino, and observations of what it means to be a modern-day Pilgrim.

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