Still haven’t found what I’m looking for - July 5, 2023

I ran into someone at the grocery store who I’ve met previously. He will go past León and continue. He’s not taking a rest day or doing anything other than walking and being with others. And, though he’s walked this Camino before, he still is searching for something right now. He doesn’t know what he’s searching for, but he’s searching. I pray with and for him as a song from the 1980s comes into my head…

I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire

I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
But yes I'm still running

You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Oh my shame
You know I believe it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

Unintentions- July 4, 2023

I was thinking about how we don’t realize sometimes that our actions can have effects or consequences far longer than we realize. Then last yesterday’s walk made it really obvious.

First, I was grumpily complaining that they made yet another change to the Camino route on our leg, this time out of Terradillos de Los Templarios. Now it’s by the road.  It’s a lot less picturesque for the sake of shorter distances and shade, and a whole lot noisier. You no longer walk through the sunflower fields but on the edge of them. But given the sunrise hour, we were actually able to take gorgeous photos with the sun shining on them rather than backlighting most of them. It made for much better photos. Both the change and the timing were unexpected pluses as it turns out.

Then when we arrived in San Nicolás, pilgrim Felix started chatting with me. He explained that he was touched quite a lot by Deb, a friend of mine in our group. Moreover, he was surprised and given much hope and much to think about because he saw and heard my husband and I in the convent singalong in Carrion de Los Condes. My husband pointed out that I was his husband during introductions and I mentioned that I was walking as a celebration of ordination. I didn’t fully realize that our transparency would have such an effect on someone sitting in that room.

Later, we walked under thick shade to Bercianos. When I last walked this stretch a decade ago, the sun was mercilessly shining on my head, as the trees were still just saplings. What a joyful relief! The planters certainly were offering shade for future pilgrims, but perhaps they didn’t realize that one day their action gave me such hope.

They did something that didn’t produce results until years later.

Maybe they never saw the results of their actions.

Their actions brought not just relief but also joy.

We may not know how our actions can affect others tomorrow or one day in the future, but if we do them in love, in fellowship, and in compassion, we can unintentionally bring joy. Unintentionally give hope. Unintentionally offer a blessing.

Life on the streets - July 3, 2023

Nothing reminds me that I’m getting older than having to get up multiple times at night to use the restroom. 

Processes that seemed easy to manage have become more challenging. So what a coincidence that my birthday fell on this leg of the Camino Frances. There is no restroom after leaving Carrion de Los Condes for 17km. That’s 3.5 hours minimum. I wouldn’t have batted an eye when I was younger but now know that a potentially 4-4.5 hour walk could mean finding an infrequent tree in case of an emergency.

It’s a real issue on the Camino. And it’s an issue for all of us as we get older. This can create anxious moments. But it’s natural and we should try to show kindness to those who might have problems. 

So today was a reminder that so many people live in conditions without access to toilets. The tent cities all over the USA are not adequately served. May we remember that our struggle is the same one held by those out in the streets and we need to find ways of making their plight less painful and more dignified.

YMCA - July 2, 2023

 It’s fun to stay at the YMCA! 🎵🎶

That song was playing in the restaurant where my group had dinner last night. And hilariously, spontaneously, every single one of us put out utensils down at the same time, at the right time, and did the arm motions that spelled out Y M C A.

Even more fun was that other pilgrims in the dining room were watching us groove and move our shoulders to the music. They KNEW what was going to happen before we even did. And they smiled and laughed with us. They weren’t Americans but they saw what was apparently an American custom.

We don’t all have to come from the same place or eat the same food or sing the same songs. And we can appreciate the sheer joy of others without judgment. We can smile with them and be joyful in our shared humanity.

From Easter - July 1, 2023

Julz is from Australia (and New Zealand and ancestrally from Samoa), and she has been teaching Stephen Aussie slang. She also doesn’t speak Spanish so I’ve been helping her pronounce some of the towns and words. This day, we walked to the town Frómista, which is sort of pronounced “From Easter” with an Aussie accent. 

Language is tricky. I am always amazed at how much English people know. Here on Camino, people come from all over the world hoping to get by on Español or English. But no matter where we are from, no matter the language, we come with hope, with a sense of adventure, with a desire for something new. We want our lives made new by Camino . We yearn for it.

So maybe without many fully realizing it, we pilgrims are all pretty much an Easter people, seeking life made new. And we all want to walk “From Easter.”

Waiting for Gorgeous - June 30, 2023

I wanted this section of the Camino so bad. I remembered how gorgeous the flowers were last time I walked this way. I was hoping it wasn’t a fluke.

And the flowers, especially the amazing red poppies, were present and beautiful. And, I realized that in the abundance around me, it wasn’t enough. I knew there was potential for more beauty. I had a glimpse of it once. So what was it I really wanted?

And I realized that night, as we slept in the bottom floor of a nearly empty ancient albergue in Castrojeriz, that Heaven on earth was all I wanted. Is that too much to ask for? I wanted unparalleled beauty and peace, with the lion sitting next to the lamb. Where death has no hold on us and we don’t have to time our visits to flower fields.

I know waiting is part of our lives on earth. I’ve gotten used to it. It’s worth the work to till the soil until we get that piece of Heaven, to forever be living in the gorgeous.

That hits the spot - June 29, 2023

Yesterday was a rest day in Burgos and we resumed walking today. It was a rather easy day, perhaps the easiest so far. The temperature was cooler than normal. But most importantly, I found the spot where I had a moment at a fuente with Silvia from Italy. That story is elsewhere in my blog. I found the spot where it happened, but it was interesting that the oasis is no longer used. The fuente was dismantled. The sign was taken down.

At least nobody will be misled to think water was present. But it did seem to point out how much we need water in our lives. And not just any water, but the water that is potable. Water that we need. Water that sustains us.

This planet is mostly water yet we thirst. The abundance is everywhere yet we are parched. And most of the time, as the Camino teaches all new pilgrims, we don’t realize how thirsty we are. We get dizzy from thirst.

But the Way invites us to fill up and fill others with all that quenches them, with all that brings joy. Fill yourself with life giving waters. And help fill those who thirst. Let all who are thirsty come.

Lost - June 27

I couldn’t find the labyrinths. There was one just before Ages and one just before the top of the peak out of Atapuerca. I walked them before and I couldn’t find them. I lost them.

Later, we got lost. Somehow we got on the optional route that frankly was unappealing. I wanted to walk by the river into Burgos not the industrial sections. We did get to run into the Irish grandparents and their grandson. They made the same mistake. And later I found that all of us had made that mistake. Maybe we were not lost . Maybe we were on a new route.

So maybe I wasn’t lost.

And maybe I didn’t lose the labyrinths. Maybe it was time for them to be taken apart. Or to be moved. Maybe it was time to say goodbye.

New things might leave us feeling lost. But they can also be an invitation to see things anew.

Stand in the forest - June 26

The walk from San Juan de Ortega started out cold and misty. We all were able to bump into each other and have a nice breakfast at Espinosa and again snack at Villafrancs de Oca. 

But I get a little uneasy going over the mountain here. It’s a place where hundreds of bodies were dumped during the Spanish civil war. To me, you feel raw pain as you walk through. It’s beautiful yes. But there’s a sadness that hangs in the air, and it haunts the walk. I feel frozen in place there, standing in sad awe of the history. I wonder why others don’t feel it. Maybe they do feel it, but it doesn’t weigh on them like it does me. Or maybe I’m just over sensitive. But death means more than the ending of a life to me. There’s ceremony and remembrance. Closure often comes from this. Without it, a hold is left gaping in the heart.

Thankfully, we move past this area and see the donativo woman of the forest. It now has warmed up and gotten sunny. She and her dogs welcome pilgrims year round. Most interestingly, her food stand is surrounded by wood totems. They’re alive with mirth and humor. 

What a contrast! Flesh turned to dust giving a feeling of sadness while wood painted to resemble flesh brings joy. All on the same mountain plateau. I hope that the souls rest in holy peace and that the families who visit that place find comfort at the food stand in the forest.

Let them beat as one - June 25

 I like to be in conversations with people. I enjoy the back and forth. And talking is a part of that dynamic. Sometimes in albergues, the dinners get pretty loud. It’s especially loud when people are communicating in second languages and everyone has to enunciate louder and clearer. Everyone ends up talking over the other rather than just with each other.

Which means if you are NEXT to such a table having an otherwise quiet conversation, it can get tough. This night, we enjoyed our dinner and conversation but much of our talk had to be repeated because of the loudness of the adjacent table. I’m happy that they speak with each other, but it did make it tough for me, with hearing issues, to focus. It seemed like a little quietness would have helped.

But I never want to suppress the conversation. Let it flow! If there were a choice between silence and overly loud talk, I’ll choose talk. We sit at tables with each other, some of whom we don’t know. We are at public dinners partly because we spend much of the day walking in silence. It’s nice to mix. It’s part of the Camino experience.

I have watched some members of my Camino group really getting into meaningful conversations with others. That’s a noise a celebrate. That’s no cymbal clanging loudly to no effect. It’s a sound of two heartbeats synchronizing. Let them beat as one.

Choose slow - June 24

Slowing down was not a normal strategy for me on Camino . Blisters are the only guaranteed way to make me remember to slow down. Physical pain in other words. But I also recognize and advise people to slow down. You have more time to process, more ways to see things, more time to ingest all that you see. 

In some ways, we speed through the Camino in just the same way we go through life. We have limited time, we want to maximize material events, we try to acquire more activities. It’s the temporal equivalent to hoarding things or money. 

But you cannot hoard time. You just end up sitting and waiting. Or you stop taking input sooner, possibly reducing opportunities to learn more, feel more, experience more.

I met Daniel on this stretch 7 years ago. And I wanted to be with him. But he walked very slowly with his crutches. So it meant I had to slow down if I wanted to walk with him. 

I see now that this was a complete blessing for me. He helped me find joy in slowing down. He made it my choice and my choice was for joy.

If I could only remember this every moment of every day. But that’s a work in progress. With luck, I can recognize that with each step, I can choose joy.

Fantabulous Fiesta de San Juan - June 23, 2023

We walked into Nájera fairly quickly and were able to rest before the Fiesta de San Juan. There were multiple meals beside the river and the festival atmosphere was obvious among the residents. We say people walking with kindling wood for the bonfire and colorful outfits. There seemed to be a color-code to the costumes but we couldn’t figure it out.

There’s an odd feeling watching people celebrating and having fun. First, there’s the intent on trying to connect with them. Why is a religious feast day so filled with alcohol and music and bonfires? Then it’s trying to understand just how they are having fun: what do the costumes mean? There’s also a question of why a one day religious observance gets stretched out over a week. 

We sort of felt happy that everyone was having fun but we were also sort of excluded. We walked around trying to enjoy bit it’s hard to emulate that feeling without the cultural context. And that’s ok. It’s not about us.

So here’s the twist. For me, this weekend is an important one for LGBTQ in the USA. This used to be when pride weekend was most commonly celebrated. People get upset about pride parade because they think it’s about bragging. Maybe it should be called “I don’t want to hate myself like you hate me” weekend or “no more lies” parade. The point is, if you’re not familiar with the context, you won’t easily feel the joy, the enthusiasm, and the relief of the celebration. It’s as foreign as a Fiesta de San Juan. It makes you feel left out.

And that’s ok. It’s not about you.

Resty McResty - June 22, 2023

 I used to walk quickly and because of that would just keep walking on the Camino. I would chat with other fast walkers as we continued, pausing perhaps to take photos but not really resting much. I don’t think I judged others if they stopped to rest. I just knew that if I walked slower or slept in, I might be walking in the hot Spanish sun.

It’s different on this Camino. I’m walking slower because of physical necessity. I’m older, heavier, and am more willing if necessary to just grab a bus or taxi if my body gives out. And I pause in the shade to rest. I chat with those who rest by me but often it’s just me. So I hum a little song to myself as I rest, typically a hymn. Lately it’s been “Day by Day: day by day dear Lord of the I pray. To see thee more clearly, Love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly, day by day”.

And when I do this, I find the rest to be more satisfying. It’s not just a physical rest. It’s also a mental and spiritual break. There’s a lot of processing while on Camino. Interacting with others, processing past relationships and events, exploring new thoughts. It’s wonderful and yet sometimes we need a momentary break. 

We stopped in a small but charming town Navarrete just 13km walk on this day. I had the best pintxo dinner so far here but the day was notable because we disconnected from the pod of people who were also walking the same distances we were. Two of our group continued with the group and are now a day ahead. And that’s awesome because they are deep in relationship with others and want to deepen them further.

We who took the short day now are among a new batch of people. Some we met before. Catherine of Ohio took a rest day in Estella so we got to break bread with her. We found Chrissy of Downey again. But most are new folks to us. We no longer see Timo of Netherlands, Arron of Hungary, Pastor Stewart of Canada, or Shannon of Florida. Maybe we will see then again when they next take a rest day. Maybe not.

Rest can be disruptive and break rhythms. But that’s what it’s supposed to do. Sabbath was given to us and was meant to recognize that rest is needed. I am learning to embrace this and hope to enjoy my rest on this Camino. 

Not enough - June 21, 2023

Walking from Los Arcos to Logroño, I found myself talking with a young man traveling with his family. They are spending a week in Spain walking the Camino before continuing elsewhere. He just graduated from uni and in a couple weeks would start a new job in a new city.

He has dealt with therapists and depression for years. He looks at his life as flawed and that he isn’t doing enough. Isn’t being enough. Isn’t anything enough. He holds himself to a measure that he finds impossible.

I prayed for him. He was enough. He was just walking his family’s Camino and not his own, literally and metaphorically. He did enough, had enough, and was enough for his journey. He and I were on journeys with others, but in the end we walk beside them in our own shoes. I pray for him because his anxieties sustain his depression. And I will pray for him and those who look in the mirror and see the creation of others rather than the creation of God.

Food truck in the middle of nowhere - June 20, 2023

 I love the food truck in the middle of nowhere. It’s about 90 minutes before you reach Los Arcos. The hills are gently rolling by and the crops are amazing. One farm area has now switched to lavender and the scents were divine. 

But this food truck is a true oasis. It offers food and shade and water when you didn’t realize how parched you were. I couldn’t wait to reconnect with this spot. But the truck seemed to be under new management. It was now operated by American and Canadian young women from a Christian non-profit. I wondered if it would be less of an oasis now.

But the food remained. The ice cream was there. The soda was abundant. And most of all, the pilgrims were there. And we laughed. We shared stories during our brief stay. Was it still an oasis in the middle of nowhere?

Yes, and it offered more than water and snacks. It refreshed us with people.

Peter? - June 19, 2023

 The walk out of Puenta La Reina was misty at first. Lovely agricultural land before we hit the steep hill.

But until the rains came, I walked the morning with Will. He had so much going on that he was processing. He’s on his fourth Camino and he talks with everyone. And despite or maybe because of his mindfulness practices, he remembers so much about us.

For example, in the middle of a field, we are walking side by side when another man with a huge backpack walks towards us with a couple dogs. Will watches him and when he gets to us says “Peter?” The man is stunned. He became guarded and said he was but didn’t know Will. As it turns out they were both at a campsite in 2017 on a prior Camino. Peter was on a prolonged Camino after having left Kyiv because of the war.

This ability to remember stories was powerful to me. When we meet people deeply, we get to know them. And they touch us. Will heard Peter. And Peter denied Will. As Simon Peter realized in denying Christ in fear, we too can deny those who touch us or whom we touch.

My walk in the rain for the rest of the day swirled around the ways we recognize each other. I would rather be recognized by my stories than my looks. I’d rather recognize someone else by the way they embrace their own stories rather than what they own or what they wear. And I pray that I never deny the face of God when they come to me in a lonely field.

Magically alive - June 18, 2023

 Pamplona at dawn is like NYC at dawn. Asleep and quiet yet still magically alive.

I fell again, this time hurting my other foot. So I took this frailty to heart. The walk up to Alto del Perdón would be steep so I walked with Deb whose pace complimented my own. So we walked. We talked. We shared stories. The best part was that she too knows how to get you to open up. I could already tell that she was meeting many people and touching hearts.

We reached the top eventually. It’s a forlorn ridge with windmills all along. She and Paula stayed behind for a taxi while Bill, Stephen, and I continued on. To our surprise, we had walked 2.5 hours before a taxi arrived. But they had great talking time and greeted all who arrived at the peak.

After the rainy dinner apart from each other, we met in the library of my albergue Jakue. Eileen, who is a priest, presided over communion. As a fresh new deacon, I served my second Eucharist. In Spain. On the Camino. 

It occurred to me that a deacon’s role is to listen and speak out in the silence of injustice. And that was what the day felt like. A day of walking with people, listening, and if needed, speaking. From the silent streets of Pamplona to the silent trudge up a peak, sharing joys, tears, and troubles in a faithful, holy way- I was alive in the quiet wind. It was dawn in my ministry and all was magically alive.

Falling with the bulls - June 17, 2023

There was beauty and there was beauty. After passing the hydroelectric plant, the river and forest from Zubiri became magical. This is what I remember and loved about this section of the Camino. A swimming hole in particular was enchanting. We waded into the water and gave thanks.

But there was also humility. It reached 91 and the heat winded us. And at one point, I missed a step and fell . Thankfully it was just a messy fall with no broken bones or bleeding. But Julz and Stephen had to help me up because of the angle of the hill. It made me feel frail, as did the heat.

I don’t walk the Camino in a triumphal March. I note that I’m of much of an athlete. You’re reading the words of a nerd. I go on Camino because of the spiritual and personal growth I witness. But still, I wasn’t prepared for saying to myself “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

We ended the day in a pod albergue then met up with the group for drinks, pintxos, and then churros at Cafe Iruña. We didn’t run with the bulls, but we walked beside all who run out of fear.

It’s not my Camino - June 16, 2023

 We got a little fragmented today. Eileen had to walk to the next town for a place to stay while the rest of us stopped in the village of Zubiri. Jenny and Julz stayed in different spots while the rest of us stayed in Segundo Etapa albergue. But Deb and her broken rib took a taxi from Viskarret which was for the best given the tough rocky trails so day.

I wished we could have enjoyed the forest together more, but that’s the way we are doing this pilgrimage. We each have our own caminos. So it’s not about my preferences but the needs and wants of the others. I want to accompany them as wanted. It’s about trusting their Camino to unfold before them. In the meantime, I just need to be there when called.

Back to the walk.

Lots of cows and streams until we reached some uphill climbs after Espinal. The star of the show though is the fiendish trek down into Zubiri. Over 300m descent via tons of broken rocks. But the bridge into town is as charming as ever. The area transitions from mountain to foothills . Soon we will be in Pamplona and the pintxos beckon . What better way to describe today actually. Bite size morsels where everyone can get exactly what they want. We aren’t here to make them eat one dish but to sample all that we can offer. 

Trust in Breathing

 It was a challenging day. Not just because physically the walk over a mountain range like the Pyrenees can beat up the body. Everyone in this group was grateful that we won’t have another day on Camino as challenging as today. But also because of my emotional struggle with my experiences seven years ago. The cliffs were there but not really as close as I imagined. I wasn’t in imminent risk in those hours where the fog basically blinded me with less than 20ft visibility. There were in fact very few places where you could fall off easily. 

But when you cannot see, when fear grips you, icy peril is all you can sense. It fills your lungs till you cannot breathe. But breathe we must. And if we want to allay those fears, we must trust and breathe in the Holy Spirit, the breathe of life, the rouach. Only when we do so will we find Shalom.

The group of pilgrims met tonight for snacks. I came back from the Roncesvalles mass and found them deep in stories of their lives, their day, the people they encountered. There was a thread about grief. But what I noticed most was a sense of trust. The Camino provides. God provides. If we truly believe that Christ walks beside us, we must trust the shepherd to guide us out of times of anxiety. The group filled my lungs with the warm air of love and trust .

The Camino Provides : June 14, 2023 in Saint Jean Pied-de-Port

The group met in Saint Jean Pied-de-Port last night. What a joy! Have not seen Julz since she stayed over at our home in 2018. We met on the Portuguese Camino.

Today Eileen, Deb, Paula, and Bill head up to Orisson. I pray them safety. And May God open their hearts as they open their eyes to the splendor of the Pyrenees.

Jenny arrived and we four had crepes. Did shopping for tomorrow’s food needs by visiting the Carrefour just a km out of town. Also explored the city walls, the citadel which is now a school, the river walk, snd napped often.

Most importantly, I examined my anxiety. If you recall, my prior walk over the Pyrenees was traumatic. I thought I would die because I could not see the trail through the fog and hail. The weather plunged from 80F in Saint Jean Pied-de-Port to rain and hail above Orisson. I had not noticed the trauma I felt. As we approached tomorrow, I felt increasingly wary.

I didn’t notice that i was still dealing with that trauma. When I didn’t hear from the four who went ahead of us to spend the night in Orisson, I became quite anxious. Thankfully, I was texted as three approached Orisson but had not heard from Eileen since she left Saint Jean Pied-de-Port . 

Trauma does that. It takes your joy and bleeds it from you. You may not know that it’s happening. But the anxiety is real, and it messes with your brain. Especially a brain that’s jet lagged.

So I turn to the song “Nada the turbe” (let nothing bother you) which comes from words of St. Teresa of Ávila. Put your trust in the Camino and in God. The Camino provides, we say. God guides us so that we will always be accompanied.

Eileen didn’t find a room in Orisson but she did get the last bed in the very next place just one Km past that village. The Camino provided and she enjoyed a delicious Basque pilgrim’s menu.

The Camino provides.

Walking through a hospital

I started CPE, which is Chaplaincy Pastoral Education, at a hospital this week in Los Angeles County. As we are just starting out, we first follow the chaplains around the hospital, shadowing and observing their interactions with the patients as they offer non-medical support to the patients. I'll be in this course through the end of the year.

During my hours of shadowing this week, I realized that there was a connection between my shadowing encounters and the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage. This week was akin to my first days of walking my first Camino.

On that first pilgrimage in 2014, I feared that my extroverted personality would find the long walks lonely. How do I encounter God mile after mile all alone? I was told by an albergue (hostel) roommate on my first night in Spain that I ought to take notes about every person I met, because though we all walk our own separate paths, we often would see others the next day or days. If we tended to walk the same distances every day, we would likely stay in the same villages and the same accommodations. We might even become friends. So, I took notes about different people, where they came from, what their stories were. My favorite questions were “What brought you here?”, “What did you hope to find here?”, and “Now that you’ve been walking, has what you’ve been seeking changed?”

It did not take long for me to realize that every person I spoke with, every hand I touched, every smile I shared, every tear that fell on our faces showed me that God was in our midst. God was present because we were present.

This revelation stayed with me throughout that first and all the subsequent Caminos. I no longer feared the quiet. The quiet was the time when I could process these encounters with God. And I definitely needed to process them. I jotted my notes. And when I met people once again, I could remember their stories. There were a lot of people I never saw again. But probably 25% of the people were folks I met previously. This meant that we could grow deeper into relationship. This doesn’t mean that the people I only met once had no bearing on my life or I on theirs. But it meant that our interactions could go even further or in other directions.

An important aspect of my spiritual direction in the past four years has been to grow and love and meet God while at home rather than on pilgrimage in another country. In other words, I need to make my daily life a Camino, a pilgrimage, a journey to find my way. Not just once in a while, but every day. I have been trying to view my life with the grateful and curious eyes that I open as though I am in a different bed in a different town every single morning.

Given that background, I jump to this context in a CPE setting. While talking with a chaplain after one of our rounds, it occurred to me that I had a similar Camino situation regarding hospitalized people. I would meet someone at their bedside instead of a trail. There was a good chance I had not met them before. If I met them, I might ask “What brought you here?”. “What do you hope will happen while here?”, “Have your hopes and plans changed since you’ve been here?” I realized this week that as I walk these hospital corridors, that I am on a new pilgrimage, a new way, a new journey of the heart and spirit. I may sometimes meet people again a few days later; I may never see them again. But perhaps, as we talk, as we spend time with each other, I can touch them and they can touch me. Perhaps we can be there for each other as we move through this thin space, this brief moment in time we have for each other.

And like the Camino, even if we aren’t meant to meet once more, our paths did cross, and we did share. My personal theology sees God as a relationship between Father/Son/Holy Spirit, as Love in creation, as Love among humanity, as Love in motion. Sometimes we must be in motion to be able to walk with God. Sometimes we just need to sit still and listen to what God has to say. So this pilgrimage as we meet our patients isn’t one about fixing anything but about shared journey, of walking beside each other, of knowing that there will be a time we head in different directions. But until we wander away from each other, we have this moment.

Camino of Shalom 2023

It's been a while, but it looks like the pandemic might be easing up just enough so that I can head back to the Camino. Just as importantly, I'll be graduating from Bexley Seabury seminary next year in 2023, so I'm going to want to celebrate with a walk along the Camino Frances from St. Jean Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela.

I'm calling this pilgrimage the Camino of Shalom. Shalom is a word that means peace, but in a much broader, more wholistic way than we think of the word peace. It also implies wholeness, satisfaction, reconciliation. As I finish my MDiv degree, I think this prayerful focalpoint will help me discern how my ministry adapts to my world.

And this Camino of Shalom is open to all! Everyone is welcome in shalom. If you are interested in participating in this pilgrimage, please contact me. We will leave mid-June, starting the walk around June 16. If you wish to walk the whole 800km, join us then. If you wish to meet us and do a shorter walk, we can tell you when and were we are likely to be, as we intend to do 25km per day average - with rest days in Pamplona, Burgos, and Leon - and walk into Santiago de Compostela on July 22.

I will be offering monthly Zoom meetings for those interested. We'll be talking about different topics each month. Our first meeting on May 23 was an introduction. Future meetings will be a short presentation on the topics below followed by Q&A.

• June 20 - Training
• July - Accommodations
• August - Travel to and from and within Spain/France / Insurance
• September - Mobile phones and gadgets 
• October - Learning: Books and Language
• November - Food
• December - Spirituality
• January - Touristy stuff
• February - Meeting people
• March - Music, Meditation, Yoga
• April - WHAT WILL I PACK?!
• May - Health Care / Emergencies 
• June - Bon voyage party!

These are the anticipated dates in 2023:

• Mon June 13 – Leave home
• Tue June 14 – Arrive Spain
• Wed June 15 – Rest Day / No Jet Lag Please!
• Thu June 16 – St Jean Pied-de-Port DAY 1
• Sat June 18 – Walk into Pamplona
• Sun June 19 – Rest Day in Pamplona
• Tue June 28 – Walk into Burgos
• Wed June 29 – Rest Day in Burgos
• Thu July 7 – Walk into Leon
• Fri July 8 – Rest day in Leon
• Sun July 10 – Walk into Astorga
• Tue July 12 – Walk into Ponferrada
• Thu July 14 – Walk into O Cebreiro
• Sat July 16 – Walk into Sarria
• Fri July 22 – Walk into Santiago de Compostela

So for example, if you wanted to join us in Sarria for the final 100km, you could depart from home on July 14, land in Spain on July 15, rest (to avoid jet lag while walking) on July 16 (and meet with us for dinner!), and start walking on July 17 with us.

Hope you can join us or at least follow the blog as we prepare and next year when we walk.

 

Sermons

 Sermons in descending order. Some sermons were delivered multiple locations. 

Locations

WG    

                        Westminster Gardens Retirement Community Vespers service, Duarte, CA

SGLC

                        Saint George Episcopal Church Sunday service, La Canada, CA

SAW

                        Saint Alban's Episcopal Church, Westwood (Los Angeles), CA

ASCP

                        All Saints Episcopal Church, Pasadena, CA

• 13 June 2021 - WG Year B Proper 6 - Mark 4:26-34 (pending)
• 13 June 2021 - SGLC Year B Proper 6 - Mark 4:26-34
• 15 May 2021 - SGLC Year B Ascension - Acts 1:1-11
• 18 April 2021 - SGLC Year B Easter 3 - Luke 24:13-34a
• 21 March 2021 - SGLC Year B Lent 5 - Mark 9:2-9 
• 28 February 2021 - SGLC and WG Year B Lent 2 - Mark 2:1-12
• 24 January 2021 - SGLC Year B Epiphany 3 - Mark 1:14-20
• 3 January 2021 - WG Year B Christmas 2 - John 1:1-9 
• 20 December 2020 - SGLC Year B Advent 4 - Matthew 1:18-24
• 15 November 2020 - SGLC Year B Christ the King - Matthew 25:31-46 
• 11 October 2020 - SGLC and WG Year A Proper 23 - Matthew 22:1-10
• 16 August 2020 - WG Year A Proper 15 - Matthew 15:21-28
• 28 June 2020 - WG Year A Proper 4 - Matthew 10:40-42 (pending upload)
• 29 March 2020 - WG Year A Lent 5 - Ezekiel 37:1-14 (pending upload)
• 25 August 2019 - WG Year C Proper 16 - Luke 13:10-17 (pending upload)
• 24 March 2019 - WG Year C Proper 3 - Luke 13:1-9

 

 

 

Litany for Our Pandemic

The original Litany for the Coronavirus Pandemic has been used with prayer services online as people shelter in place for 6 weeks now in various settings and groups large and small. During that short time - which for many feels like a lifetime - the nature of our prayer needs have changed. With suggestions from my deeply pastoral friend Rev. Peter Huang, I've modified the prayers to reflect where we are today, so that our prayers will remain pertinent

O God, source of life, wellspring of health and wholeness, whose love and grace raina down on all creatures: we cry out to you. Holy God, hear our voices as we struggle with the coronavirus pandemic. Listen to your people with compassion, as we pray for all who may be affected by the virus:

O God the Creator, Maker of heaven and earth,

Have mercy upon us.

O God the Son, Redeemer of the world,

Have mercy upon us.

O God the Holy Spirit, Sanctifier of the faithful,

Have mercy upon us.

For government leaders, and all who can reduce the suffering in our communities, our nation, and the world.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For first responders and all who serve to protect us.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For nurses, physicians, EMTs, technicians, social workers, therapists, pharmacists, and all who provide health care.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the research and science communities who may hasten the development of vaccines and relief to our miseries.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all essential workers who work to sustain us by feeding us, clothing us, keep us connected, and maintaining our basic necessities.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For hospital, nursing, hospice, palliative, and home care staff and housekeepers who have close contact with the vulnerable;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For educators and teachers, students, and parents of students now learning at home, as they all adjust to distance learning and for our youth as they work to understand these uncertain times.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For transportation crews, truck drivers, gas station attendants, and all who must travel and transport people and food and essential products.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those stocking grocery stores, department stores, convenience stores, discount warehouses, and all who provide us our food and daily necessities and who are helping us maintain social distance.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For bankers, store checkers, restaurant cashiers, financial advisors, and all who handle our money;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For restaurant workers, bartenders, coffee shop baristas, cooks, servers, chefs, dishwashers, waiters, caterers, and food growers and manufacturers as they bring us our basic needs as well as offering us the joys of comforting food.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For hotel workers, housekeepers, travel agents, and all who make our journeys possible.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For florists, artists, musicians, actors, singers, writers, poets, and all who fill our lives with beauty and art so that we can be reminded of the wonder of your creation.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those who provide us with news, communications, internet, lighting, and electricity so that we may stay informed and find safety during dark times.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are underemployed or unemployed and live with economic anxiety because of this pandemic.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those without food or shelter, struggling to maintain their health in a hostile environment;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the poor, the vulnerable, the migrants, the isolated, seniors, all the victims of racism especially those targeted by anger and fear of this disease, and all who need protection;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those incarcerated in body and in spirit.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For clergy, church staff, local and national faith leaders, and all who remind us that we are made in Your image.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the lonely, the sick, and those who suffer in mind, body, and spirit, and for those who cannot get adequate care because of the unavailability of medical resources.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are struggling with COVID-19.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all of us who are caring for those with COVID-19

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all of us who are asked to shelter-in-place;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain us.

For all who cannot be physically present with their loved ones to share final touches, words, and memories, and for those who cannot grieve together during these times.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who have died of of COVID-19 and their grieving families;

Merciful God, we ask You to grant the faithfully departed eternal life and peace. Sustain and comfort those who grieve.

Almighty God, who has promised to hear the petitions of those who ask in your Son's Name: We beseech you to mercifully hear us who have now made our prayers and supplications to you; and grant that those things which we have asked faithfully according to your will may be granted to the relief of our great need, and to the setting forth of your glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Melvin M Soriano

Litany for The Coronavirus Pandemic

O God, source of life, wellspring of health and wholeness, whose love and grace raina down on all creatures: we cry out to you. Holy God, hear our voices as we struggle with the coronavirus pandemic. Listen to your people with compassion, as we pray for all who may be affected by the virus:

O God the Creator, Maker of heaven and earth,

Have mercy upon us.

O God the Son, Redeemer of the world,

Have mercy upon us.

O God the Holy Spirit, Sanctifier of the faithful,

Have mercy upon us.

For government leaders, and all who can reduce the suffering in our communities, our nation, and the world.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For security guards, police, and all who strive to keep the peace in times of great uncertainty.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For nurses, physicians, EMTs, technicians, social workers, therapists, pharmacists, and all who provide health care;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the scientists, medical equipment manufacturers, toilet paper producers, sanitation providers, and all who may hasten the development of vaccines and relief to our miseries.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For hospital, nursing, hospice, palliative, and home care staff and housekeepers who have close contact with patients and the vulnerable;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For truck drivers, bus drivers, train and subway drivers, flight crews, sea captains and their crews, cab drivers, and all who must travel and transport people and food and essential products;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those stocking grocery stores, department stores, convenient stores, discount warehouses, and all who provide us our food and daily necessities;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For bankers, store checkers, restaurant cashiers, financial advisors, and all who handle our money;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For restaurant workers, bartenders, coffee shop baristas, cooks, servers, chefs, dishwashers, waiters, and caterers;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For hotel workers, housekeepers, travel agents, and all who make our journeys possible;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For florists, artists, musicians, actors, singers, authors, and all who fill our lives with beauty and art;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those who provide us with communications, internet, lighting, and electricity so that we may stay informed and find safety during dark times.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For teachers, professors, coaches, counselors, cafeteria workers, custodians, and all who work at schools and colleges;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For babysitters, daycare staff, family members, and all who teach, watch, and comfort our youngest children;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those without food or shelter, struggling to maintain their health in a hostile environment;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the poor, the lonely, the vulnerable, the migrants, the isolated, seniors, all the victims of racism especially those targeted by anger and fear of this disease, and all who need protection;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the lonely, the sick, and those who suffer in mind, body, and spirit;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For clergy, church staff, local and national faith leaders, and all who remind us that we are made in Your image;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who want but cannot get tested;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are waiting for test results;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who have tested positive to the coronavirus;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are asked to shelter-in-place;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are quarantined;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who have died of the coronavirus and their grieving families;

Merciful God, we ask You to grant the faithfully departed eternal life and peace. Sustain and comfort those who grieve.

Almighty God, who has promised to hear the petitions of those who ask in your Son's Name: We beseech you to mercifully hear us who have now made our prayers and supplications to you; and grant that those things which we have asked faithfully according to your will may be granted to the relief of our great need, and to the setting forth of your glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Melvin M Soriano

Carry and Roll

Lent is upon us. Many of those who follow this blog will likely know that I'm rather enthusiastic about this liturgical season, this time of pilgrimage to Easter. It's an opportunity for deeper reflection about Jesus and His ministry, His humanity, His cross, His death, His resurrection, His holiness.  Like many of you, I do more reading, more walking, more thinking, more praying.

I'm sometimes asked what I usually do as Lenten disciplines. Many give up things. My husband still likes to give up sweets and chocolates. In addition to taking things on, I do tend to do these two things:

• I don't exceed the speed limit. Weird huh? Speeding is a given in Southern California; when there's no traffic, you zoom ahead. I do this because often times I do so because I'm in a hurry. Except, in truth, I'm not. If I were more considerate to myself and others, I would make enough time to get some place without speeding. And, I do think that my need for speed makes me focus on me and my desires more than on others and their needs. They've got busy schedules as well. So, I stay within the speed limit and work on loving those that pass me by.
• We eat out a few times a week. I try to limit my purchases during Lent. I usually spend around $15-20 including tax and tip when I eat out. So I try to limit myself to eating just appetizers and drinking water so with any money I can save, I can donate to the local homeless services.If I spend only $8, I can donate $12. Donating the cumulative amount during Easter brings this Lenten exercise to life.

So here's something I'll be trying this year. For those of you who recall my posts regarding the Cruz de Ferro, it's a custom to carry a stone along the Camino de Santiago (via the Camino Frances) to carry a stone. (Check out a prior Lenten meditation.) The stone represents anything and everything in your life that weighs you down, that holds you back, that hurts you as it rubs against you. And yet you carry it. Maybe you don't realize how much it's hurting you. Maybe you are afraid to set it down. Maybe you think you cannot live without it. Then, at this enormous iron cross just past Foncebadon Spain, you leave the stone at the foot of the cross. You may have carried it hundreds of miles on your Camino walk, and you finally put it down for Christ to carry.

So I invite you to join me on this practice.

Starting Wednesday, I'll carry a stone with me. I'll carry it everywhere I go. The only time I will put the stone down is during our Taize services, when I will place the stone on the cross. And after the service, I'll pick up the stone and continue to carry it. Whenever I feel it in my pocket, I can reflect on all the things in my life that weigh me down, that hold me back, that hurt me, and pray for the strength to let go of that stone, to leave that stone with Christ, to look forward to the day I can let it go.

And on Easter, like those who visited the tomb on the third day, I'll roll the stone away. I'll put the stone down at the foot of the cross and pray that I do so for all the things I thought about during Lent. And in doing so, I pray that I'll find new life.

So go outside, look for a small stone about an inch long. On Ash Wednesday, pick it up and begin carrying it every moment you're up and about, thinking about all the things that you carry every day of your life. 

If you see me, I'll have extra stones that I can give to you, so ask me.

And we can walk together, knowing that we have our stones, looking forward to the day we can be freed of the stones in our lives.

O Little Laundrymat of Bethlehem

Last night at Laundry Love, I had it easier than normal, as I got assigned an aisle that had fewer washing machines. Over the course of the two hours, I helped out Gigi, Tanya, Randy, Shamika, and Dray. Gigi had her many bags of laundry as usual. Randy needed an extra machine than usual. Dray again had his stuffed in his suitcase and a gym bag.

Because it was quieter for me, I got more chances to chit chat with our guests, our friends. There was the usual "Oh they have Christmas brownies!" and "It's so cold, but not like Michigan" sort of conversations, as well as helping some of the kids play hide and seek. And then there's the simpler stuff.

Mary handed out Christmas cards. She thought that it'd be nice to give our friends cards so she got her church to donate for both lovely cards as well as a small gift card. It was really a nice way to say that we're all friends and family. We all see each other every month doing laundry, so we are in many ways spending more time physically, presently, and intimately "together" than we can do in social media.

I was there when Mary gave a card to Dray. She smiled and laughed as she did so, wishing him a Merry Christmas, before moving on to other guests. I watched as he turned the envelope over this way, then that way, quietly looking at the pretty envelope before opening it, carefully, making sure not to tear the card inside. Then he broke his silence.

"It's so nice that I get a Christmas card this year."

I looked at his face rather than his hands at that point, and he was clearly touched. "This year?", I thought. "This year?" Images of the cards we've been getting the past couple weeks flashed through my head. And when he pulled the card out he smiled a wide grin that said so much more than I could say here. And he was more than surprised to see the gift card, saying "Oh that's so nice. So nice."

Doing Laundry Love always has lovely moments, and I cherish them. But last night, I felt the tears flow down my face. And when Mary walked towards me again a few minutes later, I shared with her what had happened. And we hugged.

No gift is too small. No present is complete without our presence. Every slip of paper, every smile, every gesture can touch someone in ways we might never expect. Those surprises don't have to be only on Christmas. The gifts of love we share this time of year are just reminders. Love is present and manifest in our lives every day, every moment. We are awash in love. We just forget it most of the time.

May this Advent, this waiting for the gift of limitless love, wash over you, surprise you, touch you. Let your life and actions be tiny little Christmas cards to everyone you meet.

Advent reflection: Enter and Share

I saw a lovely commercial this week that uses Christmas as part of the story. It's a 2016 Polish advertisement for a company that teaches English

"English for Beginners"

It's a wonderful tear-jerker of an ad with more than a few jokes. Even the stronger language moment got a laugh because of the charming main character, Robert.

It got me to appreciate Advent a little bit more, as well. For during this season, we are starting to sit and think about Christmas, about what was happening with Mary and Joseph, their fears and trials, their confidence and trust. And most of all we await the coming a little baby, Jesus, who will change our lives forever.

Are we ready? Have we taken all the steps necessary? Are we ready to take some risks?

This commercial shows someone who prepared, someone who got ready, someone who took a risk regardless of his age.

He wanted to enter another person's world. To be present in that world, foreign as it might be. And he wanted that world drawn closer to himself. So he needed to talk, break bread, offer wine, share stories. Stories of our roots, of where we came from, of our dreams, of our love.

It's a good reminder to me that Christ will be coming soon, to be present with us, incarnate among us, all of us, in our world, living as one of us. So share stories in Christ's name. Share stories of our roots. Share stories of where we come from. Share stories of our dreams, our love, our Christmas together.

A Prayer on Fear and Abundance

Gracious God help me.

I fear scarcity. 

I forget the abundance that surrounds me.

I fear of going without food, hence I eat far too much and end up with body image battle scars. 

I fear of not having enough money, which I've had to deal with for most of my life. 

I feared of not getting enough love, which only shows my blindness to the endless love that surrounds me. 

I fear of getting physically and emotionally hurt because I look different, love differently, empathize differently.

Holy Spirit, help me release these fears. Help me release the anxiety about my life, about what I will eat or what I will drink, about my body, about what I wear. Remind me that life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Point me to the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet You feed them. Remind me that my anxieties will not add my name to the book of life, nor add a single hour to my life. Take my feet to the lilies of the field, to see how they grow, how they neither toil nor spin, and abound in beauty and life. Breathe your strength in me and through me and around me so that I may place those fears into the soil, where they can feed my already abundant life rather than bury it.