Churches, churches, churches. Every village has a steeple gracing the skyline. As I travel, I´ve been developing my own distinctions about churches; admittedly biased and based upon inadequate understanding, but my understanding, none-the-less. I find that churches tend to fall into ne of four categories and in many cases the community mirrors the energy of the church.
The first type of church is the one wiht the locked door. No opportunity for curiosity or to develop a relationship. Nada. Go away. Whatever is inside is for those who belong and I obviously don´t. So, time to move on. I experienced this most strongly in Najera, the town of negative, dark energy in the view of many pilgrims. It was the one place so far on the camino where I felt entirely out of the flow. The town where the night´s drunken party was still going on at 6:30 the next morning. The one town where I had trouble finding a bed. And one town I was very happy to leave behind.
The second type of church is one that charges admission. This is the church that feels important and that is willing to display its greatness for a price. No donativo here. No gift economy. It is all quid pro quo. Show me your money and I will show you my spendor. The cathedral of Santa Domingo de Calzada was my first experience with this type of church and combined with the craziness of a parade of clergy and relics and a brass band and dancers that congested the plaza and obstructed my progress, I couldn´t get out fo the city quickly enoug and back to the quiet of the countryside.
The third type of church is the quiet and dark church where one can sit in contemplation and feel the energy of centuries of pilgrim´s prayers. I have come to discover that even a few minutes of meditation in such a church will renew my spirit and, when combined with a few minutes of lying on the grass to renew my body, that I am ready for several more kilometers of walking. I am so grateful for these quiet dark churches that I found in Eunate, Logroño and Navarrette.
The fourth type of church is the inviting or hospitable one. In Villava, I stayed at an albergue built into a church that has been continually offering hospitality to pilgrims for over 1000 years. Last night I stayed at the albergue in Grañon that is connected by a secret passage to the church. After a delightful dinner that we, 60 pilgrims, collectively prepared, we went through the secret passage and sat in a candle lit circle where we passed a talking piece. We spoke in multiple languages but we all spoke from the heart and understood the language of the heart. The Art of Hosting is well understood and practiced by the hospitalieres of these churches.
Four different types of churches – and then I realized that these distinctions also apply to people. There are those who are closed, those who are available only for a price, those who are quiet and deep and who need to be searched for, and finally, there are those who are inviting. And then I came to recognize each of these energies in myself. I can be closed and inaccessible. I can see others as resources to be bargained for. I can be contemplative and quiet. And I am learning to be inviting (I hope). In fact, it feels like this has been a developmental process over my lifetime – from closed to negociated to contemplative to hospitable. It also seems like this development follow the stages in spiral dynamics from blue to orange to green to yellow (but that is too much for this reflection).
With each step of this camino, I feel gratitude for my life experiences that have brought me to this place. And I have clearer understanding of what it means to move from the inward journey of reflection to the outward journey of generosity, compassion and service. The hospitalieres on the camino have been wonderful models and teachers in the art of generosity and hosting and it is inspiring for me even more to want to live and work in this way.
Buen Camino
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