24 posts tagged “lingering”

Amersterdam's Schiphol is a lovely airport, and I arrived a little too late in the evening to fool with going into the city, unless I were just going to crash.  I'm still young enough to sleep on an airport floor if I must, so I planned to crash there.  Fortunately, they have wonderfully comfortable chairs that are pretty decent for sleeping.  I won't think so twenty years from now, I'm sure.

It took me some time to wind down, and I had some wonderful conversations with folks from a variety of places.  The man at the coffee counter where I bought supper (crispy bacon and egg sandwich, just like those in my memory from London - I've done a lot of cheap gas station sandwiches, and those are the best!).  He grew up in Ghana, and I asked if he liked it here.  He got really quiet, and then showed me his wrist: a yellow band was on it, and it said "Jehova-Jireh".  He said, 'do you know what it means?  The Lord will provide, man.  The Lord will provide.'

I could have strolled the red light district, and watched drunk people all night.  But I've had my fair share of Bourbon Street.  Instead, I got the wonderful treat of a pleasant meal, and the soul-food of a witness by one man to his faith that God is with him, so far away from his homeland.

It would have felt nice to have had the luxury of a private room and clean, warm shower - especally as I have another 12 hours of flying and airports, but it was nice to stay here in the airport and meet some of the people who work here, or are travelling through. 

I've spent a lot of time in airports in the 24 hours.  Almost half of that time.

Significant layovers in Paris and Amsterdam.  Originally plan was to spend the day in Paris at the Louvre, having not been to that museum.  Unfortunately, once I got on the ground and calculated the costs, I realized that was a little bit too much of a luxury for me, so I decided to spend the time in the airport reflecting, and working on some writing.

Just taking myself to the Louvre and back, without meals, would have cost nearly $200.  I don't think that would have been realistic, much less responsible.  So, a little frustrated at the idea of a bottle of water costing $5, I had a light meal in the airport (cost way more than it should have!) that included a pastry as part of the "meal deal."  The pastry choice for which I opted was a small apple tart.  The first bite into that thing made the whole change of plans worthwhile.  It tasted exactly like my grandmother Bertha Barham's 7 layer apple cake, in which she used dried apples  in a sauce she made between the layers of white cake.  It was mmm...mmmm...goood, and I've never had anything else like since she died 15 years ago.   That was a treat.

I also saw my first airport chapel, an interfaith space with separate prayer rooms for various religions.  I appreciate that each had their own spot, but regret that we have to pray in separate space!  "That we all may be one..."

I didn't see a room dedicated to an unknown God.  Have a picture, will post when I have a chance.

  

I of course took pictures of that field.  None of the purple shows up, but I´ll always remember it as a field of purple, though to most it would like like a field of hay.
   So holy lingering, then, doesn't´t mean we stop our pilgrimage.  It means we pilgrimage in a way, or at least at moments, that are different from the normal rhythm or our pilgrimage.  We syncopate, to borrow from jazz!
   It means we pilgrimage in a way that frees us (for joyful obedience!), from the agenda we bring with us or develop as we peregrinate.  It allows us to be open to the experiences in store for us, not just those we expect, far beyond the experienced we hoped for or imagined, that we dreamed of, so that our sense of pilgrimage and our sense of home are ever-expanding.
   The daily walk around a city at the end of each day´s walk, a tour of some of it´s special places, these are things many pilgrims do on the camino when they stop to rest, as if grounding them in the place where they will be for the night.  Why would we do any less... take time to "walk off" the day, in a significant way when we get to Santiago?  The daily practice of lingering is teaching us one of the patterns, one of the syncopations of life in the pilgrimge center, along with eating a communal meal, taking a shower, and washing clothes... all of these seemingly mundane things are rituals of our pilgrimage, just as rest....  Just as holy lingering.
And now, for something completely different... or rather, completely random stream:
   More than a ritual for the pilgrimage center, it is a ritual for life.  How often do we take time, or fail to take time, to linger with friends - or strangers?  The Christian faith places Christ on the plumb, square and level in the heart of others (both friends and strangers), and we need to take time to linger together.  Community is part of pilgrimage too.

I keep trying this phrase out, I like it.  As one friend said, not in the most flatering way, "it´s sexy,".  But, I continue to like it, and will struggle to keep fleshing out meaning for it until I find it has none left, and then move on.

For now, I´ve been taking to walking 2km over to the next village and back each day, usually at a rather slow pace.  In part for heat and part because once I start reflecting and musing, I start slowing down, or I stop to write in my pocket notebook.  I also stop to take pictures of flowers.  I´ve noticed the bright yellows, and the red of the poppies,

and even the variety of purples along the sides of the road, but had neglected a full field of purple that I passed each day for a week.

One day, I just looked up and hidden ever so slightly, like colors in a Van Gogh, were hints of purples dotting throughout this golden field that reminds me of California.

My imediate thought was, and this is obvious to those who know my favorite movie and book is The Color Purple, by Alice Walker, was the quote below. Thanks to IMDB, I can give you the quotes in a little more context:

Shug: More than anything God love admiration.
Celie: You saying God is vain?
Shug: No, not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off when you walk by the colour purple in a field and don't notice it.
Celie: You saying it just wanna be loved like it say in the bible?
Shug: Yeah, Celie. Everything wanna be loved. Us sing and dance, and holla just wanting to be loved. Look at them trees. Notice how the trees do everything people do to get attention... except walk?
[they laugh]
Shug: Oh, yeah, this field feels like singing!

   Both in the retreat-time and in these week of volunteering in a refugio, I have thought often about Mary and Martha, and Jesus' clear preference for the via negativa of Mary, rather than the activity of Martha.  Perhaps I am a little more confused about the matter, have seen the urgency - if you will - of the rather mundance, even having felt closer to saints and the Holy through some of these activities: preparing beds, washing laundry, feeding, cleaning up after pilgrims leave.  I think perhaps what Jesus was saying, and this is a shift for me from prior thinking, was not that the activity of Martha was in and of itself bad: Jesus himself did a lot to take care of the physical needs of people, like feeding, providing wine from water, healing and restoring sight.  He even took time from his preaching to feed a hungry crowd!

   I think what Jesus is saying is be discerning.  Perhaps, coming from an eschatological perspective, he is also saying ´Be prepared!´

   While attention to activity can be a form of love, it can be a form of avoidance, or even self-serving.  Be discerning - when do I need to get chores done (if we are watching because we do not know the hour, we will have our lamps trimmed and burning...)?  For some pilgrims, it may be a healing touch is needed, for others, perhaps a listening ear.

   C & L, my refugio permenants, are normally in the kitchen once pilgrims arrive, preparing dinner.  And isn´t that just what they need after a long day of walking uphill?  Afterwards, pilgrims are heading to bed, and need less.  But sometimes they need a listening ear - and being in the kitchen, that is impossible for them (and often for me).

   Surely there is a way to get the chores done, and also be available to folks who really need a listening ear.  I´ve often said that ministry takes two, it takes companionship (the disciples were sent in pairs).  Perhaps it takes three.  Regardless, there are a lot of chores to get done, and most pilgrims need the physical attention.  How do we meet the need of the occasional pilgrim who needs just to talk - who is carrying a problem?

  C & L have a book pilgrims can write in, and most write a line or two of thanks.  They always get glowing remarks for their hospitality, and since I am usually in the kitchen, my presence is a little less obvious.  The few times I have been mentioned by name, I have noticed, are the folks with whom I spent a little time visiting before or after dinner, who needed someone to pay a little attention to them, and hear their story.  I think this makes me a little more uncomfortable, as I try to navigate a world obsessed with details and activity, while being able to take the time needed to do a little more.  At what cost will I let details go in order to be a listening ear?

   One thing I have relished by volunteering is the brief encounters with pilgrims.  They come in, often limping, or at least walking as if on egg shells.  After a shower and a good meal, they begin to perk up like flowers soaking in water after a hot day.  When they arrive, it is as if they could not walk another day, but the next morning, they are always ready to get started for the big climb going out of the pueblo.

   Their stories are incredible, of course, just as I experienced with my previous walks.  It raises further questions for me in my study as I consider the needs of pilgrims upon their entry into Santiago.  One pilgrim spoke last night about carrying a problem during the pilgrimage, and wondering whether the physical pain was a result less of the strain of walking and more the strain of being on pilgrimage, that is carrying the problem on the journey.  This pilgrim believed that upon return home, telling the story of the pilgrimage would be difficult (as it is for many).  I do not think that a few days in Spain would cure that, but I think that offering a hospitality place to reflect on the journey could prepare people for their return home to folks who will inquire about their journey, and fortify them, or give them permission to say they are not ready to talk.  Yet, I think it could also provide them with a little yeast to begin the ongoing reflection they will have when they return home. 

   I still think most pilgrims are in a better place to share with other pilgrims while they are in Santiago, especially if they are in a place that feels more like a transitional place, than a dumping off point.  They are celebrating with their communitas, still, though not all feel that way.  Some want a private room, but others, I think, are looking for a place to talk and share.  There are a few places in Santiago that are doing more than is advertised.  One albergue, run by the Franciscans, offers and evening prayer, with a wonderful meditative tradition.  I´m hoping to interview one of the priests or sisters who receive pilgrims there. 

   Blessed are the Franciscans!  Oh, goodness there is a picture I really wish I could post now!

... though I know some of you have been anxious to hear from me (especially my parents!).

   Things here in Spain are going well.  I´ve been with limited computer access, and do not have my labtop, so have not been able to load up pictures or blog too often.  So, once I get back to Compostela and can load up pics, I will inundate you all.

   For the time being, I will share a little of what my days have been like.  The apartment I rented in Santiago was available for a brief window in June and then again in July, so between, I have used the opportunity to explore the nature of the experience of pilgrims and hospitality by volunteering at a privately owned refugio (not being offered an opportunity through public albergues, though I applied).  The guys who run this particular refugio are well respected among many, as they provide a delightful experience to most pilgrims.

   One of them rises about 5:30 each morning to prepare breakfast (simple, bread, jam, coffee, cola coa - my favorite drink - and juice).  Music starts at 6:00 am.  It used to be the Valkeries, but now is Ave Maria, followed by opera, including one of my favorite choruses, Nessum Dorma.  I usually rise with the music, or wait to the pilgrims footsteps are over.  My job has been to brush up about twenty beds, sweep the upstairs, and mop the downstairs.  I´ve tried to increase the amount that I do.  C & L, the owners, usually go to bed after the pilgrims leave, but as I am just rising, I have tried to get ahead on the chores.  Today, I was able to do almost everything before they got up: brush thirty beds, sweep and mop the house, clean the kitchen and do the dishes from breakfast - last night we had about fourteen pilgrims stay.  I also gave a thorough cleaning to some of the corners that hadn´t been touched in awhile.

   The daily office has sustained me - I´ve been delighted to get back into the rythm of the office, especially noon prayer and compline, which during seminar was more difficult for me - something we did not do in community.  I do miss, however, regular Eucharist.

  Things calm down around noon.  At 12:45pm, I light the incense, and at 1:00, the doors open to any pilgrims wandering in.  They arrive increasingly around 4:00, when they´ve had a long day.  Many more pass by earlier in the day.  At 6:00, we start preparing dinner, and I find it somewhat cathartic to set the table, and do the dishes between courses.  They cook the same meal each day, which is fine for pilgrims, because it is a new crowd each night, and easier for them - they have a rythm down pat.  Great recipes.  I have lots of food pictures.

   Afterwards, we get things ready for the morning.

   Between all this, there is down time, and I have taken to soaking my feet in the ice cold stream during evening prayer.  It´s helping my bruised heel.  It´s my own lingering time, and normally, the cows are coming home from pasture at that time.

   Staying in this small pubelo, I have enjoyed the learning of lingering - meeting people, learning about a place I previously walked through or spent only one night.  The people and place are no longer just a "buen camino," they are more real, more holy, because we have shared bread and wine, consecrated by our fellowship if not by a priest.  And the glow of candles has melted our conversations together into delicious sense of community, even if only for a night. 

In a few hours I will take a brief respite from Santiago dC to meet some folks who have a keen sense of hospitality to pilgrims.  As I think back over the last few weeks, I am grateful for the opportunity to be an observer - to have had moments to where I could be next to, and notice the Holy.  

Most of my research has depended on not large observations or revelations, but paying attention to the minute, the mundane.  Kind of like weeds growing in columns.

The plaza in front of the cathedral is fascinating.  Busses; a tourist "train;" a man ressed like a pilgrim for photo-ops; tour groups with their impertinent guides; the Tuna da Farmicia singing and selling CDs; and in the midst of it all, pilgrims.