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September 6, 2025 – It’s been over a month since I last posted. That last post talked about the next big feast day, the Transfiguration of Jesus on August 6. It also noted that very morning I would be arriving in London. There I’d meet up with my brother and his wife, and from there hike the Canterbury Trail – what locals call the Pilgrims’ Way – 134 miles from Winchester.

I’m happy to say we finished the 16-day pilgrimage on Wednesday, August 27. (I took the picture above the next day, August 28, after some late-afternoon settling in, showering, a celebratory beer or two – and later doing two days’ laundry.) On that day of rest – Thursday, August 28 – we toured the Cathedral – free – after getting our final stamp. In my case, Canterbury was the last of 18 stamps in my book, starting with Winchester Cathedral on August 11.

There’s a fuller list of visited churches in the Notes, but I should also note that during that long-distance hike two August feast days came by: St Mary, the Virgin, on the 15th and St Bartholomew, Apostle on August 25. (“Transferred.”) So for now I’ll catch up on those special church days and – time and space permitting – add a tidbit or two about the hike itself.

First off, see Liturgical Home: St. Mary the Virgin: “On August 15th, Christians worldwide celebrate the Feast of St. Mary the Virgin, Mother of Our Lord, honoring the remarkable life of the mother of our Savior, Jesus Christ. It is a joyous occasion filled with reverence, thanksgiving, and reflection on Mary’s profound role in the salvation story.” It then notes “Mary’s Fiat,” her humble response to the astounding news that she would give birth to the Son of God:

The term fiat comes from the Latin word for “let it be” or “so be it.” Mary’s fiat is a profound act of faith, obedience, and surrender to God’s will. Her acceptance of God’s plan without hesitation has made her a model of faith for many Christians and is a central theme in Christian theology and devotion. Her “yes” to God’s plan contrasts with Eve’s disobedience, making Mary’s “fiat” a critical moment in salvation history. (Emphasis added.)

Thus the traditional view. But see also Annunciation (2022) – and Mary “shrinking back.”

That post noted what Garry Wills said about how Mary may have reacted to the good news: “For me, the most convincing pictures or sculptures of the Annunciation to Mary show her in a state of panic … shrinking off from the angel, looking cornered by him.” He noted especially some 14th century paintings showing Mary “so faint by the angel’s words that she sways back and must grab a pillar to keep herself upright.” (On that note see also Luke 1:29, with some translations showing Mary “deeply troubled,” or in other translations “confused and disturbed,” or agitated, perplexed or alarmed. See also her look – “almost of horror at what she has just been told” – as shown in Dante Gabriel Rossetti‘s 1850 painting.)

But whether you think she reacted without hesitation or in a state of panic at what God planned, Mary’s place in Christian history is secure. Mary (mother of Jesus) – Wikipedia:

Christians hold her son Jesus to be Christ (i.e., the messiah) and God the Son Incarnate. Mary (Maryam) also has a revered position in Islam, where a whole chapter of the Qur’an is devoted to her, also describing the birth of Jesus… [She] is considered by millions to be the most meritorious saint of the Church. Christians of the Catholic Church[,] Anglican Communion, and Lutheran churches believe that Mary, as Mother of Jesus, is the Mother of God and the Theotokos, literally “Bearer of God.”

Turning to St. Bartholomew and his feast day, he is mostly famous for being flayed alive, and for the massacre that came on his feast day in 1572, during the French Wars of Religion:

The St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre … was a targeted group of assassinations and a wave of Catholic mob violence, directed against the Huguenots… Though by no means unique, it “was the worst of the century’s religious massacres.” Throughout Europe, it “printed on Protestant minds the indelible conviction that Catholicism was a bloody and treacherous religion.”

Unfortunately we don’t know much about Bartholomew, but many scholars identify him with Nathaniel. See John 1:45-51: “Philip found Nathanael and told him, ‘We have found the one Moses wrote about… Jesus of Nazareth.’” And so St. Bart is generally identified as the Nathanael Jesus saw – in the first chapter of the John’s Gospel – sitting under the fig tree.

So much for the two feast days I missed in August. Now for a tidbit from the hike, in this case involving our visit to St. James’s Church in Shere on August 17. Here’s what I wrote about the “creepy hole in the wall” that we found inside, as explained by a local lady:

It seems one Christine Carpenter wanted to be an Anchorite, dedicating her life to Jesus, by staying in this cubby hole in the wall of the church. The clover-shaped thing on the left was where she could receive communion. The other is where she could watch the church service. Then she changed her mind, but The People wouldn’t let her out. The church lady who related the story said nobody knows whatever happened to poor Christine, who wasn’t allowed to change her mind after that…

Which definitely piqued my interest. For example, I checked Wikipedia, which said that by initially leaving her cell Christina violated her Anchorite vows and so was in danger of excommunication. She changed her mind again, but to make sure she didn’t change a third time, when readmitted to the cell her doorway was walled up. (Shown in the image below.)

That church visit definitely creeped me out – shades of the Cask of Amontillado – but it made me think. Did Mary feel “walled in” by the course set out for her? Did she ever try to change her mind? Did she ever want out, metaphorically or otherwise? Did she struggle with her fate, as Jesus did on the cross? Which I suppose is a benefit of walking hour after hour, mile after mile on a long pilgrim hike. Sometimes you get so bored you end up thinking outside the box.

One thing for sure. Leaving Christina’s walled-in Anchorite cell at St. James’s in Shere, I reveled in my rediscovered freedom to “walk free and own no superior.”

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The upper image is courtesy of… Myself. I took the picture the morning after we trudged into Canterbury from Chilham. (See Towns & Villages in Canterbury – Visit South East England, on the town where we spent out last night on the Trail: “Renowned for its beauty and charm, the Kentish village of Chilham lies high above the valley of the River Stour in the picturesque Kent Downs.”

The Book of Common Prayer reference: The “corporate-mystical” prayer is on page 339, the post-communion prayer for Holy Eucharist, Rite I.

Feast days are designated days on the liturgical (church) calendar “set aside to commemorate events, saints, or doctrines that are important in the life of the Church. These can range from Solemnities, which are the highest-ranking feast days like Easter and Christmas, to optional memorials that celebrate lesser-known saints.” Feast Days: Celebrating the Church’s Calendar.

The fuller list of churches with pilgrim stamps: St. Swithun’s Church Martyr Worthy, St. John’s Church Itchen Abbas, St. Peter’s Church Ropley, Holy Rood Holybourne, Guildford Cathedral, St. Katharine’s Merstham, St. Bart’s Otford, St. James Shere, St. Mary’s Church Thurnham, St. Mary’s Church Lenham, and St Mary Bredin, a half-mile southeast of the Cathedral, down Old Dover Road and across “Nunnery Fields” from Canterbury Launderette, the only one in town. (I.e., Thursday morning we did our two days worth of laundry first, then went to the Cathedral for the final stamp and tour.)

Re “Free.” Tickets into the Canterbury Cathedral normally cost about 18 British pounds.

St. Bartholomew “transferred.” His feast day is August 24, but because 8/24/25 came on a Sunday, it was transferred to the following Monday.

The link John 1:48 Commentary and Explanation – Explaining the Bible notes, “This interaction reveals the omniscience of Jesus, showcasing that He knows each one of us intimately, including our thoughts and our moments of solitude.”

For this post I borrowed from 2014’s St. Mary, Mother, 2019’s St. Mary, “Virgin,” and more on Jerusalem, St. Mary, 2020 – and “Walls of Separation,” and On St. Mary, Virgin – 2024. As for St. Bartholomew, 2017’s St. Bartholomew – and “his” Massacre, and Pilgrimage, doing penance and “St. Bart – 2024.”

See “Dante Gabriel Rossetti‘s 1850 painting” in the The Annunciation (2022) post.

The full link Walt Whitman: ‘Freedom – to walk free and own no superior discussed the two perspectives on freedom, external and internal.

The external perspective perceives freedom as the absence of external control or domination. It revolves around the idea of breaking free from societal norms, oppressive systems, and the constraints imposed by others. This concept aligns closely with Whitman’s quote, as seeking emancipation from any superior implies rejecting external influences. On the other hand, the internal perspective on freedom focuses on breaking free from the mental constructs and limitations that restrict personal growth. It involves self-reflection, introspection, and a journey towards self-discovery. (Emphasis added.)

Re: Jesus on the cross. See My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? – Wikipedia.

The lower image is courtesy of Cell of the Anchoress of Shere – Atlas Obscura, which added: “Christine broke out of the anchorage after almost three years and attempted to rejoin society.” See also – aside from Wikipedia – Secret Surrey: The woman who chose to spend her life in a cell, The Anchoress of Shere, Christine Carpenter – Shere Delight, Cell of the Anchoress of Shere – Atlas Obscura, or Christine Carpenter – Surrey Cultural Lives. For more on Anchorites see Wikipedia: Such people were required “to take a vow of stability of place, opting for permanent enclosure in cells often attached to churches. Also unlike hermits, anchorites were subject to a religious rite of consecration that closely resembled the funeral rite.”

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July 24, 2025 – Friday, July 25, is the feast day for James, son of Zebedee. He was one of the 12 Apostles, and tradition says he was the first to be martyred. (Around 44 A.D.) He was son of Zebedee and Salome, and brother of John the Apostle. He is James the Greater or James the Great to distinguish him from James, son of Alphaeus. (There were as many as eight “James” in the New Testament.) I’ve noted in past posts that this “July 25” James is also the Patron Saint of Pilgrims, which takes us back to my 2016 post St. James, Steinbeck, and sluts:

I’ve gone on a few pilgrimages in my time, and am fixing to go on another one… And in the Sluts post, I noted that in the spiritual literature of Christianity, the concept of pilgrim and pilgrimage may refer to “the inner path of the spiritual aspirant from a state of wretchedness to a state of beatitude…”

So what makes this timely? Just that this coming August I will do yet another pilgrimage. This one in England, hiking the Pilgrims’ Way, also known as the Canterbury Trail. (From Winchester to the cathedral in Canterbury. 16 days, with 14 hiking and two days off to relax a bit.) In doing so I’ll be relying on James as my patron saint. (Hey, I’ll take all the help I can get.)

Perhaps the best known pilgrim path is Camino de Santiago, which translates “Way of St. James.” It’s actually a network of such paths, mostly in Spain, and the Spanish word for James is “Iago.” (Thus, “Sant Iago.”) The two most popular Caminos are the Camino Francés, or French Way, and the Camino Portugués, or Portuguese Way. (And I’ve done both). They all lead to the “shrine of the apostle James in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where tradition holds that the remains of the apostle are buried.”

But this August my goal is the shrine of Thomas Becket – a.k.a. St. Thomas of Canterbury – at the same-named cathedral in Kent. So what’s the big deal about pilgrimage? One definition is “a journey to a holy place, which can lead to a personal transformation, after which the pilgrim returns to their daily life.” Then there’s what Pope (Emeritus) Benedict XVI said:

To go on pilgrimage is not simply to visit a place to admire its treasures of nature, art or history. To go on pilgrimage really means to step out of ourselves in order to encounter God… Above all, Christians go on pilgrimage to Compostela [for example], which, associated with the memory of Saint James, has welcomed pilgrims from throughout the world who desire to strengthen their spirit with the Apostle’s witness of faith and love.

But back to James himself: He was one of the first disciples to join Jesus – see Matthew 4:21-22 and Mark 1:19-20 – and one of only three who Jesus chose to witness His Transfiguration. Tradition says he went to Spain to spread the Gospel there. (He’s also patron saint of Spain and Portugal.) Specifically, that tradition tells of an event on January 2, 40 A.D.:

[T]he Virgin Mary appeared to James on the bank of the Ebro River at Caesaraugusta, while he was preaching the Gospel in Iberia.  She appeared upon a pillar, Nuestra Señora del Pilar, and that pillar is conserved and venerated within the present Basilica of Our Lady of the Pillar, in Zaragoza, Spain. Following that apparition,* St. James returned to Judea, where he was beheaded by King Herod Agrippa I in the year 44.

Still more tradition: Legend holds that after his beheading by Herod, his remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain, where he was buried. (In what is now Santiago de Compostela, under the cathedral named for him.) And over the years Santiago has been the goal for hordes of pilgrims – hiking, biking or on horseback – who “follow its routes as a form of spiritual path or retreat for their spiritual growth.” Which is why – this time each year – I refer to St. James as the Patron Saint of Pilgrims. Which brings us back to Canterbury, and Becket.

In 1162 Henry II, King of England appointed Becket – his friend and sometime drinking companion – as Archbishop of Canterbury. (Mostly because Henry thought the new archbishop would be more amenable to his interests.) Becket served as archbishop from 1162 until his death in 1170, and that death was precipitated by Henry’s disappointment. (Briefly, after Henry appointed him, Becket actually started to take his new job seriously.)

It took six years of long drawn-out drama – from 1164 to 1170 – but eventually Henry got so mad that he uttered the question so often attributed to him: “‘Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?’ This inspired four knights to set off from the king’s court in Normandy to Canterbury, where on 29 December 1170, they murdered Becket.” But soon after his death, Henry regretted his words and in 1174 did a public act of penance at the site. That and later miracles said to occur there “transformed Canterbury Cathedral into one of the most important pilgrimage destinations in Europe.” And that’s where I’m heading in August.

Aside from all that, Becket was canonized by Pope Alexander III and so he is venerated as saint and martyr by the Catholic Church and the Anglican Communion. The latter includes the Episcopal Church – of which I am a member – and the Archbishop of Canterbury is the head of that worldwide Communion. So again, “that’s where I’m heading in August.”

I may not meet the Archbishop, but I will be able to see the Shrine of Thomas Becket. (Again; “we” visited it back in May.) Either way, as Psalm 84:4 says of God – in the BCP version – “Happy are the people whose strength is in you! Whose hearts are set on the pilgrim’s way.”

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The upper image is courtesy of James, son of Zebedee – Wikipedia, with the full caption, “Saint James the Elder by Rembrandt[.]  He is depicted clothed as a pilgrim;  note the scallop shell on his shoulder and his staff and pilgrim’s hat beside him.”

The Book of Common Prayer reference: The “corporate-mystical” prayer is on page 339, the post-communion prayer for Holy Eucharist, Rite I.

Feast days are designated days on the liturgical (church) calendar “set aside to commemorate events, saints, or doctrines that are important in the life of the Church. These can range from Solemnities, which are the highest-ranking feast days like Easter and Christmas, to optional memorials that celebrate lesser-known saints.” Feast Days: Celebrating the Church’s Calendar.

For this post I borrowed from – or just reread – the following posts. 2014’s On returning from a pilgrimage – and the coming holidays, on an eight-day canoe trip 12 miles out in the Gulf of Mexico, camping on the occasional salt marsh and islands including Half-moon Island, Cat Island and the Ship Islands. (Primitive camping, as in “dig a hole and squat.”) Also from 2017’s On a pilgrimage in Spain, a prequel to my first official Camino hike: “In less than 24 hours I’ll be winging my way from Atlanta to Madrid… From there I’ll take a train to Pamplona, from whence my brother and I will hike 450 miles in 30 days.  (On the Camino de Santiago.) Also, from August of 2019, St. James – and “my next great pilgrimage,” which cited the 2016 post, St. James, Steinbeck, and sluts. (And by the way, Robert Louis Stevenson used the now-offensive word in his 1878 book Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes, but it had a different meaning back then.)

I also borrowed from – or just reread – from October 2019, On Saints James, Luke – and the lovelies of Portugal, which noted a hike on the Portuguese Camino, and also that there were between six and eight “James” in the New Testament. The post Saints Luke, and James of Jerusalem – 2021 noted a 17 day and 177 mile hike, from Saint-Jean in France, “over the daunting Pyrenees”to Burgos in Spain. And On James, “the Pilgrim’s Saint” – 2024.

“Compostela” in the Pope Benedict quote refers to Santiago de Compostela, the city with the cathedral said to hold the remains of St. James the Greater. In pilgrim terms, a “compostela” is the certificate “awarded to pilgrims for the past 1000 years. It is written in Latin and attests to the fact that you have successfully completed a religious pilgrimage… Do bear in mind that it is written in Latin, a bit like lawyers’ language.” The Compostela Translated into English – Camino de Santiago.

Re: James‘ vision. The quote “St. James returned to Judea“ seems to overlook the three-to-four years that he actually spent in Spain. But there is another legend, of “Our lady of the boat:”

According to tradition, after Jesus’ crucifixion, St. James traveled to the Iberian Peninsula to spread Christianity. His efforts were met with limited success, and he became discouraged… One night, while he was praying on the coast near Muxía, the Virgin Mary appeared to him… She arrived in a stone boat, accompanied by angels, to encourage him to continue his missionary work. The boat’s sail, mast, and hull were said to have turned into three large stones, which are still present near the sanctuary today… This miraculous event bolstered St. James’ resolve, and he continued his mission, eventually becoming the patron saint of Spain.

From Muxía and Our Lady of the Boat – ethanrayd.blogspot.com. BTW: That’s a place I visited during my 2024 hike in Spain, on the Camino Finisterre and Camino Ingles: Route, Map & Stages | English Way – Pilgrim. But strangely enough I didn’t do any posts on that pilgrimage; a lapse I will have to rectify when I get back home this September.

On Thomas Becket, see also Becket controversy – Wikipedia. As to Henry regretting his words, see Thomas Becket: the murder that shook the Middle Ages: “Henry II, in a public act of penance for his involvement in the murder, visited the tomb in 1174, granting royal approval to Becket’s cult. Becket’s death and subsequent miracles transformed Canterbury Cathedral into one of the most important pilgrimage destinations in Europe.”

Re: The pilgrim’s way psalm. In the BCP psaltery it is Psalm 84:4. In the Bible Hub version it is Psalm 84:5, with the New Living Translation saying, “What joy for those whose strength comes from the LORD, who have set their minds on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.” With Commentary adding:

The concept of pilgrimage in this context refers to the journey to the temple in Jerusalem, a central aspect of Jewish worship and religious life. Pilgrimages were times of spiritual renewal and reflection… The heart being set on pilgrimage indicates a deep, inner desire to seek God and His presence, reflecting a commitment to spiritual growth and devotion. This journey can also be seen as a metaphor for the Christian life, which is often described as a journey or walk of faith (Hebrews 11:13-16). The pilgrimage motif connects to the broader biblical narrative of God’s people as sojourners and exiles, looking forward to a heavenly homeland..

The lower image is courtesy of Canterbury Cathedral Shrine Of Thomas Becket – Image Results.

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Saturday, August 24, is the Feast day for St.  Bartholomew, also called Bartholomew the Apostle. I’ll write more about him in a bit, but first I’d like to talk about my upcoming pilgrimage, in a return to Spain. In Transfiguration – 2024 I talked about some of my past journeys, leading “to a personal transformation,” but here I’ll talk about the one coming up in September.

The Camino de Santiago … is a network of pilgrims’ ways or pilgrimages leading to the shrine of the Apostle James in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where tradition holds that the remains of the apostle are buried.

But this year, instead hiking to Santiago my hiking companions and I will hike from there. Out on the Camino Finisterre to “the end of the known world.” That is, we’ll be hiking to Cape Fisterra, a route “unique because it is the only trail starting in Santiago de Compostela and takes pilgrims west to the stunning Atlantic coast of Galicia.”

We’ll meet up in Madrid, then take a train for two nights in Santiago. Needless to say, over the course of the month we’ll stay in many different places, but here I’ll focus on where we stay two nights – and where I’ve never been. First, two nights in Fisterra (“world’s end”), after hiking five days. Then two more days hiking to Muxía, where we spend two nights. From there we take a bus to A Coruña, and stay there two days, followed by another bus ride to Ferrol, for another two days off. Then we “start hiking again,” for another eight days, heading back to Santiago. All of which means we’ll enjoy way more “two nighters” than usual on past Camino hikes. (Which I define as at the end of each day you look forward to a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer.) And more bus rides for that matter, but we’ll end up hiking close to the usual 150 miles.

Now, about those two-nighters. I’ve been to Finisterre; we drove there by rental car after an earlier hike to Santiago. (See a photo of that rocky “end of the world” outcrop in the post, James, “the Pilgrim’s Saint” – 2024.) The first “never been there” two-nighter is in Muxía, known for its beaches and its active fishing industry. “Muxía is part of the ‘Costa da Morte‘ or ‘Costa de la Muerte’ (i.e., the ‘Coast of Death’) … because of the large number of shipwrecks along its rocky shore.” (Wikipedia.) Also, local legend says that St. James the Greater tried to “Christianize” local inhabitants but without any luck. Then the Virgin Mary appeared to St. James “to comfort him. The Celtic stones near the church are now said to be remains of the Virgin Mary’s stone boat.” (Seen above left, the “Pedra d’Abalar (rocker stone) in front of Nosa Señora da Barca church in Muxía.”)

So much for Muxía. The next qualifying two-nighter is A Coruña, the provincial capital of the province of A Coruña. As for things to see, “In addition to the Tower of Hercules, one of the symbols of the city, the peninsula on which the Old Town sits is home to a fascinating Romanesque ensemble of medieval streets, squares and churches.” There’s also a museum of fine arts, an archaeology and history museum, and yet another “Church of Santiago (A Coruña).”

Next up, after another long bus ride, comes Ferrol. It features a harbor which, “for depth, capacity and safety, has few equals in Europe. The entrance is very narrow, commanded by forts, and may even be shut by a boom.” It’s close to the Cape Prior Lighthouse:

The [modern] lighthouse has been constructed on a high coastal clifftop, some 14 kilometres (8.7 mi) northwest of Ferrol [but]  the geographers of antiquity took notice of the granite protuberance off the northwesternmost point of Iberia which, as described by Strabo and other classical geographers, was used even then as a reference point for the end of the Iberian peninsula… A set of steps descends from the lighthouse down the steep cliff to a viewpoint overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

(Wikipedia.) All of which will be a part of our upcoming 2024 pilgrimage to Spain, where – hopefully – at the end of each day I can look forward to that warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer. (As it says in Psalm 84:4, “Happy are those … whose hearts are set on the pilgrim’s way.”)

But I did say I’d talk some about St. Bartholomew the Apostle, so here goes. There’s lots of gory detail in the links below, but mostly he’s famous for being flayed alive, and the massacre that happened on his feast day in 1572, during the French Wars of Religion:

The St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre … in 1572 was a targeted group of assassinations and a wave of Catholic mob violence, directed against the Huguenots… Though by no means unique, it “was the worst of the century’s religious massacres.” Throughout Europe, it “printed on Protestant minds the indelible conviction that Catholicism was a bloody and treacherous religion.”

And a personal note: My French ancestors – Huguenots, or Calvinist Protestants – came to America to get the hell away from such ongoing battles of religion and “who’s going to hell.” Yet irony of ironies, this year I’m going back “whence my ancestors came,” for much the same reason they came here. For a bit of spiritual peace and quiet – at least for the month I’m in Spain.

To wrap thing up we’ll end our 2024 hiking pilgrimage with yet another two-nighter, this time at the Monastery of San Martiño Pinario back in Santiago. As noted, “There we will do penance for whatever sins may remain, in that our rooms will be stark. ‘Old monks cells – a bed, desk and tiny bathroom.'” Where no doubt I will get good and “Jesus-upped,” ready to face whatever strife may come in the upcoming October and November, after I get back home…

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The upper image is courtesy of Fisterra, Muxía, and a Sunset at the End of the World, in a blog by Trevor Huxham. It has lots of useful information on this particular hike, including that by tradition, on reaching Fisterra, “pilgrims would burn their stinky clothes and bathe in the ocean.” (Which we probably won’t do.) Also that “you can often find some sun-bleached t-shirts tied to crosses or tattered hiking boots with sentimental quotes plastered nearby.”

The Book of Common Prayer reference: The “corporate-mystical” prayer is on page 339, the post-communion prayer for Holy Eucharist, Rite I.

“Feast days” are designated days on the liturgical (church) calendar “set aside to commemorate events, saints, or doctrines that are important in the life of the Church. These can range from Solemnities, which are the highest-ranking feast days like Easter and Christmas, to optional memorials that celebrate lesser-known saints.” Feast Days: Celebrating the Church’s Calendar.

Re: “Hiking close to the usual 150 miles.” My rough calculations show a total of around 140 miles, with pack. (Not counting “saunters” around stopover towns without a pack.)

For more on our proposed route, see e.g. Camino Finisterre from Santiago to Muxia:

This stunning region of Galicia is known as the ‘Costa da Morte’ famous for its wild beauty, seafood, and interesting legends… From Santiago to Cee, the Camino is inland, but from Cee to Finisterre (Fisterra) and to Muxia, it follows the coast. Quiet villages and hamlets, remote farmland, and unspoiled countryside await on this Camino route to the sea cliffs of the westernmost point in Spain… After Fisterra (Finisterre), we recommend you continue your journey along the craggy coastline of Atlantic Galicia to the fishing village of Muxía, famed for its sanctuary by the ocean and ‘magic’ stones.

See also Fisterra, Muxía, and a Sunset at the End of the World, and Tourism in A Coruna. What to see. Tourist information | spain. And for the “more spiritual” part of this post I borrowed from or referred to On St. Bartholomew – and “his” Massacre (2017), and St. Bart 2023 – and more mass-shooting massacre, and links therein.

Re: “There we will do penance,” etc. Borrowed from On James, “the Pilgrim’s Saint” – 2024.

The lower image is from Wikipedia on Monastery of San Martiño Pinario, “photo by Diego Delso.”

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For this post I went back eight years to The Transfiguration of Jesus – 2016. (Posted July 29.) It had a note that the term transfiguration “stands as an allegory of the transformative nature” of the Bible Faith. (A marked change, “usually for the better.”) And another note, that Thomas Aquinas considered it “the greatest miracle in the world.” One reason: In all the other miracles Jesus did things for other people, while the Transfiguration happened to Him.

But back to that 2016 post. Then I wrote that it “may be the last post I’ll publish for awhile… I’ll be heading north to Skagway, Alaska. From there I’ll spend four days hiking the Chilkoot Trail. (The ‘meanest 33 miles in history.’) Once that’s done, my brother and I will spend 16 days canoeing down the Yukon River, from Whitehorse to Dawson City.” Then, assuming I survived all that, “I should be back in business some time after August 29.”

I next posted on August 28, 2016, “Back in the saddle again,” again.

So what does this have to do with the Transfiguration? Just that in a similar way I too have been transformed, hopefully for the better, through various pilgrimages. Like hiking the Chilkoot Trail, canoeing 440 miles on the Yukon River, and doing various Caminos de Santiago, including the one coming up in a few weeks. (This year the Camino Finisterre.) I’ll have more on such “journeys of personal discovery” in a bit, but first here’s more about the Transfiguration of Jesus. That feast day comes each year on August 6, and the story is told in Luke 9:28-36:

About eight days after Jesus had foretold his death and resurrection, Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.  And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem…

On that note the site Feast of the Transfiguration of Our Lord (now defunct) presented a Greek Orthodox analysis. It said that in the story Moses and Elijah “represent the Law and the Prophets.” (“Moses received the Law from God, and Elijah was a great prophet.”) But Jesus represents something new under the Sun. His Transfiguration was a pivotal moment in time:

[T]he setting on the mountain is presented as the point where human nature meets God: the meeting place for the temporal and the eternal, with Jesus himself as the connecting point, acting as the bridge between heaven and earth.

But the miracle didn’t just happen to Jesus. Seeing the Transfiguration “transformed” the three disciples who saw it, Peter, James and John. They never forgot what happened that day (which was probably what Jesus intended). John wrote in his gospel, “We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only.” (John 1:14)  And as Peter also wrote of the event, “We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with Him on the sacred mountain.” They went from being cowards – cowering in an upper room after Jesus “died” – into men who transformed the World. They transformed personally, then went on to Change the World. 

In other words, before they could change the world, Peter and the other Disciples had to change from within. Or as one site said, God “brings change from the inside. God works inside out while so many others work outside in.” Which brings up the subject of “pilgrims:”

A pilgrim … is a traveler (literally one who has come from afar) who is on a journey to a holy place. Typically, this is a physical journeying (often on foot) to some place of special significance to the adherent of a particular religious belief system. In the spiritual literature of Christianity, the concept of pilgrim and pilgrimage may refer to the experience of life in the world (…as a period of exile) or to the inner path of the spiritual aspirant from a state of wretchedness to a state of beatitude.

You might even say that Peter, James and John were on such a pilgrimage when they hiked up to the top of that mountain – to that “mountaintop experience” – where they saw Jesus being transformed. But they were also transfigured in the process. As a result of that process they went “from a state of wretchedness to a state of beatitude.” And changed the world.

Of course we today can’t personally see Jesus being transfigured on a mountaintop. “That’s ancient history.” But we can – from time to time – get away from the hubbub of everyday life and take time to “pilgrim” – as a verb. To make it easier for God to bring change from the inside.

Put another way, a pilgrim is someone questing to “find himself.” (See also Self-discovery – Wikipedia.) And one way of finding yourself is through a healthy sense of ritual, as noted in the book Passages of the Soul: Ritual Today. It noted that a healthy sense of ritual “should pervade a healthy society, and that a big problem now is that we’ve abandoned many rituals that used to help us deal with big change and major trauma.”

The book added that all true ritual “calls for discipline, patience, perseverance, leading to the discovery of the self within.” More to the point, the book said a pilgrimage – like hiking the Camino Finisterre this year – “may be described as a ritual on the move.” Further, the book said that through “the raw experience of hunger, cold, lack of sleep,” we can quite often find a sense of our fragility as “mere human beings.” And by realizing that fragility we can come closer to that “sense of absolute dependence on God” that is the essence of the Christian faith.

Finally, the book said that such a pilgrimage can be  “one of the most chastening, but also one of the most liberating” of personal experiences. Personally I’m hoping to be more liberated than chastened, but since this is my sixth Camino hike coming up, I have a pretty good idea what to expect. But that’s the thing about a pilgrim hike as moving meditation. “There’s always the unexpected, isn’t there?” Or as John Steinbeck said, “You don’t take a trip, a trip takes you.”

Or finally, as it says in Psalm 84:4, “Happy are the people … whose hearts are set on the pilgrim’s way.” So here’s to happy pilgriming in the weeks to come. Stay tuned!

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The upper image is courtesy of Chilkoot Trail – Image Results. I originally included a photo I took – one of a series of photos I took on the Chilkoot Trail (and the Yukon River) – as seen (hopefully) in “Back in the saddle again,” again.

The Book of Common Prayer reference: The “corporate-mystical” prayer is on page 339, the post-communion prayer for Holy Eucharist, Rite I.

“Feast days” are designated days on the liturgical (church) calendar “set aside to commemorate events, saints, or doctrines that are important in the life of the Church. These can range from Solemnities, which are the highest-ranking feast days like Easter and Christmas, to optional memorials that celebrate lesser-known saints.” Feast Days: Celebrating the Church’s Calendar.

For this post I borrowed from 2015’s Transfiguration – The Greatest Miracle in the World On Saint James the Pilgrim – and “Transfiguration 2021”, and 2023’s “Love one another” – get Transfigured (too). And for more on the benefits of such “transformative” pilgrim-journeys see I’m back from my Rideau pilgrimage, from September 12, 2018.

Re: 16 days on the Yukon. It only took 12 days, not including a day off in Carmacks, Yukon Territory. The current was so strong we covered 440 miles in those 12 paddling days, or over 36 miles a day.

Re: “Something new under the sun.” A twist on Ecclesiastes 1:9, “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.”

Re: “Change from within.” See God Works Change Inside Out – The Gospel Coalition.

The book “Passages of the Soul” was written by James Roose-Evans.

Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834) defined religion – especially Christianity – as a feeling of “absolute dependence on God.”

Re: “My sixth Camino hike.” I define a Camino hike as one where at the end of each day you look forward to a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer. Thus those six included hikes on the GR 70 last year (the Robert Louis Stevenson Trail) and the Way of St. Francis in 2022. (See Some highlights – Way of St. Francis 2022.) There was no cold beer at the end of the day on the Chilkoot.

Re: “Always the unexpected.” See The Bridge on the River Kwai quotes … Movie Quotes Database.

Re: Steinbeck. The actual quote, “We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.” John Steinbeck – Travel Quote of the Week – Authentic Traveling.

The Psalm 84:4 translation is from the Book of Common Prayer.

The lower image is courtesy of Happy Hiking Image – Image Results.

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Over a week ago Thursday – last July 25 – was the Feast Day for James, son of Zebedee, one of the 12 Apostles. Son of Zebedee and Salome, and brother of John the Apostle, he is also called James the Greater or James the Great to distinguish him from James, son of Alphaeus.

He was one of the first disciples to join Jesus (Matthew 4:21-22 and Mark 1:19-20), and one of only three apostles Jesus chose to witness His Transfiguration. Tradition says this James traveled to Spain to spread the Gospel there. (He’s the patron saint of Spain and Portugal.) Tradition also says he was the first apostle to be martyred, when he returned to Judea, beheaded in 44 A.D. by King Herod Agrippa I. That’s where the Camino de Santiago comes in.

And more tradition: “Legend holds that St James‘s remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain, where he was buried in what is now the city of Santiago de Compostela,” under the cathedral named for him. And over the years Santiago has been the goal for multitudes of pilgrims – hiking, biking or on horseback – who “follow its routes as a form of spiritual path or retreat for their spiritual growth.” Which is why – this time each year – I refer to St. James as the Patron Saint of Pilgrims. And which requires some explanation.

For five of the past seven years I’ve done just such a pilgrimage each September, which needs more explaining. For one thing, I define “Camino hike” as where at the end of each day you look ahead to a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer. (Different from a hike on – say the Appalachian Trail – where you pack a tent, sleeping bag, utensils and all food “for the duration.”) That’s why I count last year’s hike on the GR 70 in France – aka Robert Louis Stevenson Trail – as a Camino hike. Also 2022’s hike on the Way of St. Francis in Italy, from Assisi down to Rome. At the end of each day I could look forward a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer.

As for “real Camino hikes,” in 2017 my brother Tom and I hiked (and biked) the 450 miles from Pamplona to Santiago. In 2019 Tom, his wife and I hiked the Portuguese Camino, from Porto back to Santiago. In 2021 we three plus Tom’s brother-in-law hiked over the Pyrenees, the part I missed in 2017. (And felt guilty about.*) They went all the way on to Santiago, but since I’d reached Santiago twice already I stopped in Burgos, took a bus down to Madrid and flew home from there. But this year will be different. This year we’ll be hiking the Camino Finisterre.

That is, most Camino hikers head to Santiago. (Where legend says the Saint’s bones are buried.) But this year we’ll hike the 48 miles from Santiago out to Cape Finisterre, once thought “to be an end of the known world.” From there my companions and I will hike another 45 miles northwest to Muxía, “known for its beaches,” then on to A Coruña. (Another 55 miles.) Finally, a hike of some 38 miles will take us back to Santiago and the Monastery of San Martiño Pinario. There we will do penance for whatever sins may remain, in that our rooms will be stark. “Old monks cells – a bed, desk and tiny bathroom,” with no TV, “iffy” internet – and presumably no beer.

That’s the Alpha and Omega of my 2024 pilgrimage – beginning and ending – but in the next few weeks I hope to add more detail on the in-between. (Like how to find beer?) Stay tuned…

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The upper image is courtesy of Camino Finisterre – Image Results. See also The Camino Finisterre – Pilgrimage to the End of the World: “Because Finisterre was considered to be the end of the known world in the Middle Ages, it held special spiritual and physical significance. And this significance seems to survive to this day.”

The Book of Common Prayer reference: The “corporate-mystical” prayer is on page 339, the post-communion prayer for Holy Eucharist, Rite I.

“Feast days” are designated days on the liturgical (church) calendar “set aside to commemorate events, saints, or doctrines that are important in the life of the Church. These can range from Solemnities, which are the highest-ranking feast days like Easter and Christmas, to optional memorials that celebrate lesser-known saints.” Feast Days: Celebrating the Church’s Calendar.

For this post I borrowed from 2014’s On “St. James the Greater” and last year’s On St. James (2023), Pilgrimage, and “Maudlin’s Journey” – both of which have more detail on the saint – along with James, son of Zebedee – Wikipedia. See also Saint James, Patron of Pilgrims – Catholic Education Resource, or – for more on other Camino hikes – see for example Just got back – Portuguese Camino (2019), I just got back from “Camino 2021,” and 2017’s “Hola! Buen Camino!”

Re: “The part I missed in 2017.” The year before, 2016, I’d gotten my fill of mountains after a four-day hike over the Chilkoot Trail, “meanest 33 miles in history.” But that feel-guilty unfinished business ended in 2021, for me a hike from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, over the Pyrenees and on to Burgos.

Re: “Beginning and ending.” See Alpha and omega Definition & Meaning – Merriam-Webster, and also Alpha and Omega – Wikipedia.

The lower image is courtesy of the Wikipedia article on Monastery of San Martiño Pinario, photo by Diego Delso, captioned, “Main entrance to the church.” In the email my brother sent, saying we’d stay there two nights after finishing the hike, he added that the third and fourth floors – “turned into housing” – were “reserved for peregrinos only.” And that the rooms are stark, “old monks cells – a bed, desk and tiny bathroom,” with no TV on presumably not internet. But the rooms were cheap and “a really good breakfast is included.” Aside from that we would have separate rooms, and – I see from a “Maps” search – there’s a McDonald’s fairly close. (A mile up Rua de San Caetano, with free Wi-Fi and they probably sell beer too. See “They sell beer at the McDonald’s in Portugal,” from my companion blog, posted in October 2020.) And a side note: While “peregrino” is generally translated “pilgrim,” it can also mean wandering, migratory, exotic, strange, odd or “extraordinary.” And the term “ideas peregrinas” translates to “harebrained ideas.” (None of which I knew before posting this. See Translate “PEREGRINO” from Spanish into English | Collins.)

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October 12, 2023 – My last post said I’d add updates – to that September 10 post – as I hiked the Robert Louis Stevenson Trail, in France. But alas, I never got the chance. The days were just too hectic, the “free” French WiFi was iffy at best, and most days it was enough just to shower, wash that day’s clothes for the next day, and get a good meal – at the end of the day. I also said I’d put those updates between two sets of asterisks (below), which is what I’ll do now, now that I’m back home in God’s Country, safe and sound. (As this first week back moves along. It’s taking some time to get over the jet lag and get back up to speed, like understanding what people around me are saying…)

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September 10, 2023 – The next major Church Feast is Holy Cross Day, Thursday, September 14. Just before – in the Daily Office – come for readings for the Eve of Holy Cross: Psalms 46, 87, 1 Kings 8:22-30; Ephesians 2:11-22. Next up is the Feast day for St Matthew, Evangelist, Thursday, September 21. Then Friday, September 29 comes the Feast for St Michael and All Angels.

The thing is, I’ll be in France from September 11 through October 8, mostly to hike the GR 70, also called the Robert Louis Stevenson Trail. But I’ll only have a tablet, not a laptop, so covering those feast days will be problematic to say the least. So I’ll do this: Write up this post beforehand, then update it as I hike along the Trail. (After enjoying sights in Paris and Lyon.)

“As far as traveling in France goes, I’ll put updates in between these two sets of asterisks:”

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And now for the delayed updates: For starters, doing the Daily Office readings every hiking day was challenging. In previous hikes I’ve packed an actual printed Bible, but by the time I finished packing for this trip – and some anticipated heavy rain and maybe hail – my pack weighed 20 pounds. (Five pounds over the recommended 10% of body weight. In my case, 15 pounds.)

One less-weight option was the online Lectionary – Satucket. However, that required a good WiFi connection, and as noted, French WiFi was “iffy.” Sometimes non-existent, and sometimes I got the message, “connected, no WiFi.” So quite often I ended up using the PDF King James Bible I’d downloaded onto my tablet. (Which I also used to take pictures and post them on Facebook, and along with commentary for the folks back home.) In the end that worked when necessary, but it was way different reading that Bible with all its Shakespearean English.

As far as those Feast days, explained further below, on September 14 – Holy Cross Day – I was in Lyon, at a hostel called Ho36. I wanted to hike over the two bridges connecting my room to the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière, said to offer a spectacular view of the city. I ended up hiking Rue Marseilles, parallel to the rivers, but later corrected that error. I finally got to the Basilica, but learned you could only climb up to the top of the tower as part of a tour group. (“Not interested.”) But the hill itself offered a good view.

On September 21, the day for St. Matthew, we ended up in a cute little hamlet, Brugeyrolles, east of Langogne, which we thought was our final destination that day. (With some footsore backtracking.) But the first of many four-course late French meals made up for that “misdirection.” And on September 29 and St. Michael and All Angels, I finished the morning’s DORs in “St. Julian d’Arpaon, a kind of campground.” That day we hiked 13.68 miles, up and over a mountain, “Signal du Bouges.” Which may have been the toughest hike of the whole 15 days of hiking.

So, so much for my experiment of thinking I could post updates while on an actual “Camino hike.” Which I define as a hike where you don’t have to pack a tent, sleeping bag and all your food. Instead, at the end of each day you look forward to a room with a warm bed, hot shower and cold beer. Now it’s time to get back to the original post, which will cover me until I can get over my jet lag and back to my at-home rhythm. And hopefully I can do some more instructive posts in the near future. After all, this Stevenson Trail hike was a pilgrimage:

A pilgrimage is a journey, often into an unknown or foreign place, where a person goes in search of new or expanded meaning about their self, others, nature, or a higher good through the experience. It can lead to a personal transformation, after which the pilgrim returns to their daily life

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Returning to the original September 10 post: So be on the lookout. Meanwhile, for those September feast days, see Holy Cross, Matthew, and Michael – “Archangel” for starters, from 2018: “I wrote in 2016’s St. Matthew and ‘Cinderella‘ that two major feast days in September are Holy Cross Day (9/14) and St. Matthew, Evangelist.” A third major feast is September 29, for St. Michael and All Angels. (Followed by more detail on those feasts…)

The first is one of several Feasts of the Cross, recalling the cross used to crucify Jesus:

In English, it is called The Exaltation of the Holy Cross in the official translation of the Roman Missal, while the 1973 translation called it The Triumph of the Cross.  In some parts of the Anglican Communion the feast is called Holy Cross Day…

As for Matthew, he was a tax collector, and in Jesus’ time they were hated. A lot. A “tax farmer,” like Matthew, was “sure to be hated above all men as a merciless leech who would take the shirt off a dying child.” And so – in Jesus’ time – devout Jews avoided them at all costs.

They were fellow Jews, but worked for the Romans as tax collectors. Also because they were “usually dishonest (the job carried no salary, and they were expected to make their profits by cheating the people from whom they collected taxes).” Which led to this lesson from Jesus:

[T]hroughout the Gospels, we find tax collectors (publicans) mentioned as a standard type of sinful and despised outcast. Matthew brought many of his former associates to meet Jesus, and social outcasts in general were shown that the love of Jesus extended even to them.

Which turned out to be good news for pretty much all us “sinful and despised.”

As for Michael, he’s mentioned most prominently in Revelation 12:7-10:

[T]here was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels. And prevailed not… [T]he great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world; he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.  And I heard a loud voice saying … the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.

See also Michael (archangel) – Wikipedia, which noted that in the New Testament “Michael leads God’s armies against Satan‘s forces … where during the war in heaven he defeats Satan.” Also, he’s mentioned three times in the Book of Daniel, once as a “great prince who stands up for the children of your people.” So like I said in earlier posts, “I’ll take all the help I can get!”

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In the meantime, if you’re interested you could check out Walking the GR70 Chemin de Stevenson – I Love Walking In France. And finally, about those pilgrim hikes I go on each year. Check out On St. James (2023), Pilgrimage, and “Maudlin’s Journey,” from last July 29. (Back then I was planning this trip to France. Now it’s today when I fly out.)

I listed some reasons there, but mostly I do it for the adventure, and to get away from the rut of ordinary, everyday life. But I’ll probably add some more reasons in those updates from France, between the two sets of asterisks above. In the meantime, wish me Happy Hiking!

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The hiking was mostly happy, but challenging, as I hope to detail in future posts. (While also commenting on upcoming Feast days, like October 18’s remembering St. Luke – physician, historian, artist. See also On Saints Luke, and James of Jerusalem – 2021.) The food was great, as were the many spectacular views from the tops of all those hills in the Cevennes. Which is another way of saying I’m still looking for an answer for people who ask, “Why would anyone want to do that?”

The upper image is courtesy of Robert Louis Stevenson Trail – Walking in France. See also On donkey travel – and sluts, my post from February 2015.

The Book of Common Prayer reference. The “corporate-mystical” prayer is on page 339, the post-communion prayer for Holy Eucharist, Rite I.

The lower image is courtesy of Pilgrimage – Image Results, which led me to Why the Oldest Form of Travel Could Be the Most Popular in a Post=COVID World: “Pilgrimages are the oldest form of travel,” from the start to go to shrines or temples and leave offerings, and/or connect to God or ancestors. Also defined as a “hyper-meaningful journey” or “sacred endeaver,” making it different from regular forms of travel or leisure; “it is the meaning or transformation that occurs.”

One pilgrimage that has exploded is the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage routes in Europe. There are many pathways, but one of the main pathways is the Camino Frances, which is a trail that goes from France to the Santiago de Compostela Cathedral in Santiago, Spain. 

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