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Posts Tagged ‘Santiago Compostela’

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What I’ve Learned on the Camino

Today marks my seventh day of walking on the Camino to Santiago Compostela.  I and my companions have walked nearly seventy miles, encountered a ton of people and seen some lovely landscape.  But by now there’s one thing that we’ve known for three days:  we will finish — all of us!  I’m not sure any of us realized what a toll ten to twelve miles a day would really take, but walking relentlessly up and down hills over a week does grind a person down.  But by day four I and my colleagues knew we could do it.  What else have I learned?

A560D901-3EF0-4F3C-A768-56AEF688C158First, there are some things we picked up as kids that can come in handy on the Camino.  For one thing, there are moments of heavy traffic on the Camino, though it’s made easier by the fact that everyone is going the same direction — save for the cows.  That brings up one bit of advice I learned from my parents early on that has come in handy:  don’t step in the cow pies.  Virtually every day the cows share the Camino with the pilgrims, and they tend to leave little tokens of their travel experience.  I’m now convinced that farmers actually bring the cows out to refresh the trails every morning, but I could be wrong on that.  Anyway, it pays to look where you step, and the few people who use cell phones or look at the scenery can pay a smelly price.  What I’ve missed in scenery I’ve more than made up for in peace of mind.  So watching where you step is an important bit of advice.

76194DA9-A356-4024-A35E-67464E672052I’ve also appreciated the total immersion in countryside and animal life.  Most of the Camino that we’ve walked has taken us through forests, pastures and small villages.  I’ve savored the aroma of eucalyptus trees and crunched bushels of acorns and chestnuts.  I’ve also seen lots of cows (see above), dogs, cats and chickens.  The dogs have been a special delight, and their response to the hikers ranges from total indifference to warm friendliness.  There’s no ominous barking or growling.  That explains the sign we saw early on:  “Please do not let the dogs follow you.  They already have homes.  If they follow you, they won’t find their way back.”  What a welcome change from the dog warnings at home.

A third item I’ve picked up is that people have lived along the Camino for ages.  That was evident in the Celtic earthwork fortress that we passed one day.  It also was evident in the stone villages that include lots of buildings that date well back into the Middle Ages.  In fact, a personal highlight of the trip was my concelebration of a Mass in an early 11th-century church built by monks of the French Abbey of Cluny.  They built priories with guest hostels along the way to encourage the pilgrimage, and it was great to see first-hand evidence of that.  The Mass had added significance for me when the local priest drafted me to read the gospel and to recite part of the canon in Spanish.  That afternoon I got to use my Castilian accent and did reasonably well.

823490EA-1BDE-4BEA-B181-7DF4193F5DAAI had anticipated that the Camino would be a cosmopolitan experience, and it did not disappoint.  While I have walked with each member of our group as well as alone, I’ve also had the chance to visit with other pilgrims along the way, and the first encounter surprised me the most.  He was a Lutheran pastor from Norway, and he was doing his second Camino.  On successive days I met all sorts of people, including Australians, Germans, Americans from all over the place, Japanese, Koreans, and so on.  People were there for all sorts of reasons, and it was a refreshing experience.

Finally, I was surprised at how quickly the worries and cares of home melted away as I walked along.  I stopped thinking about work at the office, though I did treasure thoughts of confreres and friends left behind.  I was not surprised to hear from fellow pilgrims that their foremost concern was on the steps we were taking, and that thought gave me comfort.  Our daily trek quickly came to focus on sure footing as we walked along.  The formula for success then boiled down to this:  avoid the cow pies and loose rocks and find the places where you can plant your feet firmly, one after another.  That’s what’s gotten us through each and every day and up and down each hill.  But that also strikes me as a good formula for getting through life.

NOTES

The photos in today’s post all show scenes from the pilgrimage walk through the region of Galicia in northwestern Spain.  At bottom is the 11th-century Cluniac church in the village of O Cebreiro.

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The Trek to Santiago Compostela

I’ve never done an eighty-mile walk before, and so today seems as good a day as any to start.  Actually, it’s the right day to do it because this morning I’m scheduled to join with a group to do the last 110 kilometers of the pilgrimage to Santiago Compostela.  I wouldn’t want them to leave without me.

It’s a thousand-year-old route, and through the Middle Ages only Rome exceeded Santiago in popularity as a destination in Western Europe.  With the Reformation the shrine took a big hit, and the numbers thinned out to a trickle for a long time.  But to people’s amazement, over the last fifty years it’s bounced back, and the last stretch of eighty miles alone gets an average of 300,000 in the course of the season.  And of course that does not count the even greater numbers that get there by bus or train or car.  Anyway, we won’t be alone as we walk this path.

8A1F8337-3A59-4444-9F1B-3A1E1B9ED021From the start the goal of the pilgrimage has been to venerate the relics of the apostle James, which tradition says are sheltered in the cathedral dedicated to his memory.  Even today people go there for that, but it is the journey as much as the destination that makes the whole thing worthwhile.  Today people go for all sorts of reasons, and for each there is something therapeutic about the experience.  I’ve been told that most everyone unloads their mental baggage — bit by bit — in the course of the journey.  What they are left with is themselves.  Slowly, in the course of the days of hiking through forests and fields and villages, people cast aside the worries about work and other such stuff.  Life is slowly reduced to the utter simplicity of individuals coming to terms with what is really essential in life.  Therein comes the growth.

I’m traveling with a group of members of the Order of Malta, which is quintessentially an organization oriented around pilgrimage.  The Order began in Jerusalem, where members served pilgrims who had fallen ill in the course of their time in the Holy Land.  Eventually the Order relocated to Rhodes and then Malta, and in both places the knights built and staffed giant hospitals that served the sick and the poor.  It’s in that spirit that members of the Order now go with the sick on a yearly pilgrimage to Lourdes.

The Order has never really had a strong association with Santiago Compostela, but there are chapels and fortified places along the way that the Order built or inherited from other Orders like the Templars. Today there are no members staffing these places, but lots of other people have stepped in to serve the streams of pilgrims who have once again populated the route.

495F148C-C3D3-4F78-95EC-0AC3AC43D006In the Middle Ages there were four trail-heads for the pilgrimage to Santiago, and all of them were in Burgundy and elsewhere in France.  It was a very long walk, filled with inconvenience and even danger.  Today the routes have multiplied, and the trails are much nicer; but it can still be a challenge, even on the shorter routes.  And despite all the options, purists insist on beginning the journey on the French side of the border with Spain.  That journey can take many weeks, and there’s one good reason why our group is not starting there.  We all have day jobs, and we don’t have that kind of time.

So today our trek begins in the town of Sarria.  An average day will take us about nine or ten miles, which is within my reach but paltry compared to those who will do 20+ miles per day.  In preparation I did lots of walking over the summer, though I never did ten miles a day for eight days in a row.  Still, I’m confident that I can get my left and right feet to cooperate with one another, and I’ve made it easier on them because this last leg of the route to Santiago has no mountains.

I first went to Santiago as a graduate student doing dissertation research in Spain.  That was ages ago, and I did the trip by train.  In physical terms I would have been better-suited for the pilgrimage back then.  But that was then and this is now, and I’m glad I’m doing it now rather than then.  And as the Scriptures say, “this is the day the Lord has made.  Let us be rejoice and be glad in it!”  So please say a prayer that each and every day of the trip counts for something good.  And while you’re at it, pray for yourself as well!

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NOTES

+I began the pilgrimage to Santiago with a flight to Madrid, and the photos in today’s post show scenes from that wonderful city.  There is a real elegance to Madrid, despite the rather crowded neighborhoods.  The photos in today’s post give a hint of that.

+On the eve of the pilgrimage I watched The Way, in which Martin Sheen plays a pilgrim to Santiago.  It is stunningly good and available on YouTube — for free.  Who would have thought.

+I had given some thought about more frequent posts in the course of the pilgrimage, but ultimately I decided to stick with my weekly format.  So in the post of October 22nd I will give an update on our progress through the fields and forests of Galicia in northwestern Spain.

+Today friends and alumni of Saint John’s University will gather for a funeral Mass in the abbey church to honor the memory of John Gagliardi, our long-time football coach.  In addition to articles that have appeared in newspapers across the country, this most recent Saturday the football team gave him their ultimate tribute with a 40-20 win over the University of Saint Thomas.  It was a great game.

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imageThe Pilgrimage to Santiago

For the last three weeks I’ve followed the travels of a friend who is making the pilgrimage to Santiago Compostela.  Santiago sits in the far northwestern corner of Spain, and pilgrims have been going there since the 9th century.  They’ve gone primarily to venerate the relics of the Apostle James, which are enshrined in the venerable 12th-century cathedral.  But as often as not it’s the trip itself that has drawn pilgrims by the tens of thousands;  and the tide shows no sign of letting up as we’ve entered the new century.

Several years ago the Spanish government caved into the popularity of this pilgrimage route and repaired and repaved the dangerous pathway that runs across the north of the country.  In the middle ages the road was much longer, with four trailheads that began in the middle of France.  Once in Spain the routes converged, only to split into northern and southern routes.  Today scarcely anyone has the time to begin the journey in France, which is just as well since there likely is no road to follow.  And today everyone takes the southerly route via León, which is still a challenge despite any modern amenities.  Whether by foot or bike, the trip requires a major investment of time and energy, but at least it’s not dangerous like it was in the middle ages.

imageI confess that I’ve only done this pilgrimage by coach, so I’ve never had the blisters and aching knees that those who are truly pilgrims continue to enjoy.  Nonetheless, I’ve been able to hear enough stories from bonafide pilgrims to appreciate what they go through en route.

First off, one naturally asks why anyone in their right mind would want to do this.  Why take off weeks from a job or abandon a comfortable home just to tromp through crummy weather and a rugged and often lonely landscape?  Well, there’s one reason I long ago crossed off the list.  People do not make the trek to Santiago because they have nothing else to do.  People who are addicted to the recliner in the den are the least likely candidates to do this.  People who are chronically bored rank a close second.  People who wonder what to do to fill up their day rank third.  In short, almost all the people who walk to Santiago do so for a reason, and the non-adventurous need not apply.

imageThose reasons vary, of course.  Some do it because they are at a crossroads in their lives and have to sort things out or do some serious soul-searching.  Others go because they have lost someone dear to them.  Still others go to mend fences or come to terms with broken relationships.  And others do it for the sheer joy of testing their limits by walking several hundred miles.  Can they do it without taking a week off at the spa?

A second important lesson about this pilgrimage is that one never travels alone.  People may take their first cautious steps out onto the road, thinking they don’t know a soul.  But within a mile or two people tend to link up and travel together.  En route they share their stories, and soon enough therapy and camaraderie blur together.  People begin to support one another;  and as is the case with life, they sometimes move on to join new clusters of pilgrims, only to rejoin friends they had made a hundred miles earlier.

imagePretty soon a pattern emerges, and the parallels to normal life start to emerge.  Of course absent from all this walking is the busyness that crowds the daily routine at home.  Shorn of trips to the mall and time spent at the office or in front of the television, the pilgrimage route tends to reduce life to its bare-boned basics.  What the pilgrim soon confronts is the endless horizon, but in getting there each step counts for something.

Pilgrimage to anywhere is a metaphor for life in general and Christian life in particular.  The nice thing about Santiago is that there’s a clear destination and a decently-marked trail to get there.  One also has roughly some idea of how long it will take until arrival.

Unlike the road to Santiago, normal life isn’t quite so tidy.  There are all sorts of uncertainties about destination and duration, and there may be lots of detours along the way.  But in common with Santiago, how one gets there is all-important.  Each step along the way counts for something.

imageVeterans of the road to Santiago all comment on the renewed appreciation for life that they’ve come home with.  They’ve learned to savor the little things, which is one lesson that comes from miles and miles through endless fields and forests and mountains.  And most of all, they come home with a renewed respect for their fellow travelers.  On the road to Santiago there are no strangers, because everyone eventually becomes a fellow pilgrim, and together they walk the road with the Lord.

In a few days my friend will reach Sahagún, which is the site of a once-great Benedictine abbey.  It was in Sahagún where I learned my last and best lesson from the pilgrimage.  It was there that I met a  young German woman who had decided to start her pilgrimage in Seville, far in the south of Spain.  Nobody does the pilgrimage from Seville, because there is no hiking path from Seville.  My first thought was that she must be crazy.  Then I recalled the parable of the wedding banquet, when the host went out to the byways and invited any and all into the feast.  That’s when I realized that this woman may have been eccentric, but she was a metaphor for the Church.  Whether we start in Seville or Arles or in Barcelona, it is the Lord who will gather us in.  And many other surprises will await us as well.

imageNotes

+On May 18th and 19th I attended the annual retreat of the Board of Trustees of Saint John’s University, held at Saint John’s.

+On May 23rd Saint John’s Preparatory School held its graduation exercises in the abbey church.

+The pictures in today’s post were taken by Michael Becker, who photographed the recent ordination of Fr. Nick Kleespie as priest and Brother Lew Grobe as deacon, with Bishop Donald Kettler presiding.  On May 24th Fr. Nick celebrated the Eucharist at his home parish in Morris, MN.

+Santiago Compostela was likely the most popular medieval shrine in Europe, after Rome itself.  But it held no monopoly on pilgrimage, and many local and regional pilgrimage destinations emerged to entice visitors from near and far.  In the gallery on the Cathedral of Chartres you will see samples of the sculpture and stained glass that dazzled visitors from France and beyond.

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imagePilgrimage: A Metaphor for Church

She wasn’t the sort of pilgrim who shows up at shrines like Lourdes or Fatima.  For one thing, she had elected to walk to Santiago Compostela.  For another, she definitely looked like she’d walked.  I’m sure a quick rummage through her back-pack would bear this out.  Fifty miles earlier she must have run out of freshly-starched and ironed blouses; and her last visit to the day spa had to have been at least a hundred miles ago.

On the other hand, she was sturdy, determined and friendly.  Perhaps that was a reflection of the Bavarian blood that coursed through her veins.  And she was also a mavarick.  Unlike everyone else who hikes or bikes or skate-boards to Santiago, she had begun her trek in Seville, far away in the south of Spain.  Was that even legal?  I wondered.  Is there even a hiking path for pilgrims from Seville?  Probably not.  Worse still, was she even a believer?  I shuddered to think.

Eventually you have to ask whether they let just anybody come to Santiago.  And the answer is a resounding “Apparently so.”  The fact that you can walk or bike to the shrine of Saint James means that quality control for pilgrims is largely absent.  At Fatima and Lourdes most people arrive pre-selected, pre-sorted, and in neatly overpacked planes and trains;  and it shows in the streets.  In Santiago people show up when they show up, and locals  have long since ceased to stare at what the cats have just dragged in.  As a result, Santiago still has the feel of the medieval Wild West.  That makes it, in my humble opinion, the most interesting pilgrimage destination in Europe, hands down.

imageThat mix of people of all shapes and sizes and classes and ethnic groups is what has made Santiago such a fascinating place for centuries on end.  What also fascinates is the movitation that has driven people there.  They’ve come to repent of sins great and small.  They’ve come out of curiosity.  They’ve been out to seek adventure.  And perhaps they’ve come to escape.  But above all, they still come to discover something about themselves; and for that reason the hike to Santiago is as important as the arrival.  A lot happens en route.  Thoughts are thought.  Friendships are made.  And lives are discovered.  As such, it’s a destination that encourages dreamers and searchers.

imageIf that’s what makes the road to Santiago such a vibrant place, that’s also what unnerves more organized people like myself.  I admit that I like my world tidy, and I dare say that I prefer the Church to be the same way.  So it is a bit off-putting that God keeps calling such a rag-tag mixture of people on pilgrimage to Santiago.  Couldn’t it be just a little more stately and serene?  I could only hope so, and for that I have prayed on occasion.

It’s in this vein that Jesus could easily have used Santiago as a parable of what he would like his Church to be.  Time and again Jesus indicated that he intended to invite everyone to the wedding feast.  In more than one parable the lord sent servants to gather people from the byways and crossroads, and in some cases they compelled the guests to take the seats that the preferred guests had earlier refused.

That meant that the unsavory and the less-than-perfectly-mannered would occupy places of honor — alongside the respectable.  That meant lots of surprises for everybody when they gathered to celebrate at the feast.  And for some it was sheer joy; while for a few others it had to be socially awkward, at best.

imageIn the current synod of bishops in Rome there has been some discussion about language, and more precisely, the appropriate words to describe a Church that includes all sorts of people at all sorts of stages in their spiritual journey.  To my mind pilgrimage is one of those words, because it describes people on the move.  They are people who may be on pilgrimage together, but as in any pilgrim group there are those who occasionally stray from the path.  Some stumble and fall.  Some get lost or sidetracked for a while.  But with minds fixed on the goal, they make progress that is unique to each.  Eventually, in God’s good time, God gathers them in, one pilgrim at a time.

If God allows people to make progress on their journey at their own pace, God also invites an infinite variety of people to take part in the journey.  Here’s where, yet again, I find myself uncomfortable with God’s approach.  I have to admit that there are more than a few times when I regret God’s indiscriminate taste in friends.  Why couldn’t God call a better sort of person to be part of the pilgrimage?  Why does God have to call people who clearly should not have been on the invitation list?

imageIf all this seems a little bit theoretical, it’s important to recall that Jesus meant his parables not just for other people, but for you and me as well.  In that light, I went back to consider the road-weary young woman who had hiked from Seville.  By a lot of people’s standards, and probably by my own as well, she did not deserve a place in the sanctuary in Santiago.  Bettter that she stand nearer the door, for a variety of reasons.

But then it recently dawned on me that perhaps God’s standards might differ rather significantly from my own.  Might God prefer the person who had walked two hundred miles to pray, versus the pilgrim who came by bus?  Might God prefer to hang out with the person who carried a backpack full of dirty clothes, instead of the monk with a bag of clean laundry?  I’m hoping God has better sense than that.  But given God’s taste in pilgrims, I think I had best prepare myself for a few surprises at the heavenly banquet.  After all, the joke would certainly be on me to meet people who were surprised to see me there.

imageNotes

+On October 8th I attended a reception for friends and alumni of Saint John’s University, held at the Museum of the Knights of Columbus in New Haven, CT.  Currently there is a wonderful exhibit of original folios from The Saint John’s Bible at the Museum.

+On the morning of October 8th I had the opportunity to visit Saint Thomas More Chapel and the Catholic Center at Yale University.  For three years during my PhD studies I was privileged to live there and work as a student-priest chaplain.  The new addition to the Center is an over-the-top facility.

+On October 10th-12th I gave a retreat to members of the American Association of the Order of Malta.  We met at the conference center at Mundelein Seminary, the archdiocesan seminary of Chicago.

+On October 8th our novice-confrere Brother Bradford successfully defended his PhD dissertation at Boston College.  In the audience was our confrere Fr. Michael Hahn, who has just begun his PhD studies in the same department at Boston College.

image+Given my frequent involvement in activities of the Order of Malta, one reader asked me to comment on the structure of the Order.  The Grand Master, Frá Matthew Festing, a Knight of Justice who takes vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, is the head of the Order.  He is both head of state, since the Order has governmental status; and he is the head of the Order of Malta as a religious order in the Catholic Church.  He is assisted in the work of administration by the Sovereign Council, which acts as a cross between a cabinet and a senate.  The Prelate of the Order oversees the work of the chaplains as well as the spiritual life of all the members of the Order.  Finally, the Cardinal Patron of the Order acts as a liaison between the Order and the Vatican.  His role is to promote the interests of the Order at the Vatican.

image+While perusing photos I’ve taken over the years, I recalled a statue of Saint James, perched on the wall of a building in Amsterdam.  That picture, along with other examples of building art in Amsterdam, are included in today’s post.  These little bits adorn the nooks and crannies of Amsterdam, and together with the canals and bridges they help to make Amsterdam one of the most charming cities in Europe.  I also like Amsterdam because it’s one city where smoked herring is available on so many street corners.

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Santiago Compostela

The Ascetic Olympics

There’s something about Lent that brings out the competitive spirit in some people.  They will give up all sorts of things and make sure that everyone knows about it.  Still others take on special projects, and strangely enough these have to be done when everyone else is watching.  So goes the spirit of competitive self-denial; and anyone can do it — which is why it will never become an olympic sport.

Of course this is nothing new in the Christian tradition, nor is it absent in Judaism, for that matter.  Jesus himself cautioned against those who made a public display of their austerity, and he urged those who wanted to make a spectacle of themselves to go and do it quietly, away from the public gaze.  But that never stopped those who were fiercely determined to make a name for themselves in the spiritual arena.

The Sayings of the Desert Fathers and Mothers abound with such stories.  Gathered and written down over several centuries, these often pithy statements detail the wisdom of the monks and nuns of the Egyptian desert, the heartland of Christian monasticism.  They provide fascinating vignettes of remarkably astute people.  But they  mince no words in pointing out spiritual foibles when they encounter them.

I’m not at all sure that fifth-century monks in Egypt really admired the monk who stood for all of Lent, for example.  And while they may have revered the monk who fasted for all of Lent, few cared to imitate him.  Then there is the story of the monk who never bathed, and who longed to be a martyr.  But since the government had stopped persecuting Christians decades earlier, he threw himself into a pit of hungry hyenas, who promptly had nothing to do with him.  That’s always suggested to me that even hyenas have standards; and I suspect that the monks of that day felt pretty much the same way.

One of the more amusing stories that entertained us at evening prayer many years ago involved a monk who spied a group of nuns approaching him on the road.  To avoid sullying his gaze with the sight of women, he threw himself into the ditch and covered his face.  Once they had safely passed, he got up, dusted himself off, and walked on proudly.  But just before he was out of range, the abbess yelled out to him: “If you were a real monk, you  never would have even noticed that we were women.”

A last example comes from Palestine, where St. Simon Stylites lived on a pillar for forty years.  In his day he earned respect as a holy man and sage, and even the emperor sought his  advice.  But he was only one of many pillared ascetics, and here you begin to sniff out the basic flaw in ascetic competition.  If someone is holy because they sit on a pillar for twenty years, then someone up there for twenty-one  years must be even holier.  Or alternatiively, in my estimation, they must be even nuttier. But who am I to judge, especially since I am afraid of heights?

Given all this, you can appreciate why Saint Benedict discouraged his monks from excessive public displays of asceticism.  It is a fine line that separates asceticism from eccentricity; and more than a few monks have become excessively proud of their humility.

So where does that leave us when we consider giving stuff up for Lent?  Well, I think we need to factor in motivation as a key issue.  Were I to give up cigars (which I never have smoked) or merlot (which I don’t particularly enjoy), I would have to question my objectives pretty seriously.  And if I give up something I really like, so that I can go on about it endlessly at cocktail parties, I’m not likely to gain much in the eyes of God either.

But there are solid reasons for asceticism during Lent.  In fact, one of the few and best reasons for giving up champagne or cheesecake or anything else I truly crave is to admit that it is God who is truly supreme in my life.  Saint Benedict urges the monk to prefer nothing to the work of God, and giving up ice cream may very well be the best way for you to say that.

I think that if Saint Benedict ever found out that one of his monks was outside sitting on a pillar, he would put down his book and would go out and shake that pillar until the monk finally came down.  As far as he was concerned, eccentric behavior was not the path to holiness, because it remained eccentric behavior, pure and simple.  And at the end of the day mysogeny was still mysogeny for the desert ascetics, and there was no way to transform it into a virtue.

Real virtue comes in the acknowledgement that God is with us, and that the Divine is present  in our neighbor and in ourselves.  Let nothing, not even a good sauvignon blanc , be preferred to the love of God and neighbor.  And Lent may very well be a good time to show that in your very private acts of asceticism.

Monastery of Saint Martin

Monastery notes

+Today’s post begins with three photographs from the great shrine of Santiago Compostela in northwestern Spain.  In the Middle Ages it became enormously popular, and pilgrims from throughout Europe made the long trek for penitential and other reasons.  Today the baroque facade greets visitors, while the Romanesque sculptures in the interior remain intact and are among the finest in Europe.  My personal favorite has always been a 12th-century stone carving of the prophet Daniel, who smiles down to greet visitors as they pass through the Portico de Gloria.  Unfortunately he was under restoration and behind a screen when I visited there a year ago.

In the 11th and 12th centuries  the Abbey of Cluny in Burgundy founded a network of monasteries to serve pilgrims along the entire route to Santiago, and Benedictine monks even staffed the shrine itself.  Eventually the monks in Compostela moved to an adjacent site, where they established the Abbey of Saint Martin.  Today their buildings still stand, but the community did not survive the Napoleonic Wars in Spain.  The Benedictine nuns did survive in a monastery that sits on the other side of the cathedral, and years ago I stayed as their guest when I did dissertation research in Spain.

Another singular feature of the modern shrine is the giant four-foot tall censor that hangs from the ceiling.  A system of pulleys and ropes allow four people to hoist it up and swing it in giant arcs aross the transcept.  It is a thrill to see it in action.

+On Friday March 23rd we celebrated the Mass of Christian burial for our confrere, Fr. Hugh Witzman.  At 84 years he had lived a long and full life, working primarily as a teacher in the art department at Saint John’s University.  He delighted in creating large bronze sculptures, which today adorn churches throughout the upper midewest.  His statue of the Egyptian ascetic Saint Anthony of the Desert presides today in Sexton Commons at Saint John’s University

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