A Trip Becomes a Pilgrimage

I am convinced that pilgrimage is still a bona fide spirit-renewing ritual.  But I also believe in pilgrimage as a powerful metaphor for any journey with the purpose of finding something that matters deeply to the traveler.  With a deepening focus, keen preparation, attention to the path below our feet, and respect for the destination at hand, it is possible to transform, even the most ordinary journey into a sacred journey, a pilgrimage.                             –Phil Cousineau, “The Art of Pilgrimage”

It was the second day of our trip to Paris, our first full day in France.  The skies were thick with dark clouds hanging low and threatening rain.  It was not an ideal day for visiting the cathedral in Chartres, so famous for the amazing colors, vibrant blues and deep purples, of its stained glass windows.  But this is Friday and the only day when there is a “possibility” of walking the labyrinth inlaid in the floor of the central nave.  There is no guarantee.  Normally chairs cover the entire nave, arranged in cathedral seating with a center aisle and two sections of wooden chairs for people to rest, to sit and pray, and to worship.  But Friday is the one day when, unless something else is scheduled to take place in the nave, they will push back the chairs and expose the labyrinth.

Thus it was that I found myself sitting in the amazing Cathedral Notre Dame of Chartres watching about 20 people walking the labyrinth.  (That’s right; there are actually many Notre Dame Cathedrals in France, which translates “Our Lady,” for they are usually dedicated to Mary.)  As I began writing my thoughts in my journal to prepare myself for walking the labyrinth, it slowly dawned upon my how important this experience was to me.  We did not go to France so that I could walk the labyrinth in Chartres.  This was not a pilgrimage.  Yet at that moment, sitting in that Cathedral, gathering my thoughts and beginning to listen deeply to my own spirit, it became clear walking this labyrinth was something I very much needed to do.  At that moment, as Cousineau suggests, my trip to France became a pilgrimage.

When did I become enamored of labyrinths?  I cannot recall.  Dianne and I visited San Francisco in 1995 which is home to Grace Cathedral, an Episcopal church where Lauren Artress serves as Rector.  Lauren is one of the founders of Veriditas, the organization promoting the resurgent use of labyrinths as spiritual prayer tools.  Dianne actually visited Grace Cathedral while I was in General Synod meetings and walked the labyrinth they have, but I did not.  I do recall an outdoor labyrinth at the retreat center in Lake Worth, Florida which I visited often in the late ‘90’s to see a Spiritual Director.  But that labyrinth does not feel like my first labyrinth.  I can remember walking the outdoor labyrinth at Ghost Ranch Retreat Center in New Mexico sometime before 2005.  And of course I helped build a labyrinth on the Christ Church campus in August of 2005.

Most of these labyrinths were all patterned after the Chartres labyrinth, an 11-circuit.  While it is not the only pattern for a labyrinth, it has become one of the most well-known.  At one time there were 17 labyrinths laid in the floors of cathedrals across medieval France.  The labyrinth in the Chartres cathedral, placed in the floor sometime between 1194 and 1220, is the only one which remains.  No one is quite sure why labyrinths became popular in medieval Europe.  Some feel it was to provide a “virtual” pilgrimage to Jerusalem for those who could not make the actual journey themselves.  There is some suggestion that pilgrims would walk the labyrinth on their knees to heighten the experience.

Some think of a labyrinth as a maze, but it is not a maze.  A maze is a puzzle, with dead ends and little reason or rhyme to the path.  A labyrinth is a path representing a journey.  There is one way in to the center and one way out and you cannot get lost (at least not intentionally) on the path.  It is a simple spiritual prayer tool; it offers a way to physically pray, not so much or just with words, but with one’s whole being – body, mind, heart and soul.  Every time I have ever walked a labyrinth it has been a powerful spiritual experience.

And so it was this time!  The opportunity to walk THIS labyrinth, in the Chartres Cathedral, at THIS moment in my life, was truly a Divine gift.  I arrived in Chartres after a very difficult summer in my ministry and my life.  I arrived carrying many burdens and many questions.  As I sat in that sacred space, I was able to focus my thoughts, gather up my emotions, my burdens, the experiences of my life in the past few months, and offer them up to God as I walked into the labyrinth.  Surrounded by the symbols of faith, the altar, the Communion Table, the beautiful stained glass windows telling the stories of the Bible and the Church; moving with other pilgrims, experiencing their devotion, adjusting my pace and rhythm to their pace on the path, pausing for them to pass; realizing I was walking the very same path hundreds of thousands if not millions of other pilgrims had walked since the 13^th century, nevertheless I was totally immersed in the moment, opening my heart, mind, and soul to the presence of God to allow God to lift my burdens and to speak to me God’s Word and God’s Wisdom.

I have no concept of the time I took in the labyrinth.  I did not rush through it, but I did not dawdle.  I moved at a steady pace, but I paused when it seemed appropriate and I drank in the amazing surrounding environment of the Cathedral.  I spent significant time in the center rosette, specifically sharing my questions and seeking God’s guidance and wisdom.  When I moved back outward on the path away from the center toward the entrance I did so with the intention of moving back to my life and back to the world.  I did not hear a “voice” or direct message from God, but I clearly had a sense in my heart and soul that God had lifted my burdens and God was giving my guidance.  I experienced the power of the labyrinth once again.  And the labyrinth ministered to my heart and soul as I needed at that moment.  I came away from that experience with a deep peace about myself, about my life and ministry, and about the future.

The Wonder of La Mezquita

If ever a place on earth can truly convey the concept of infinity, La Mezquita in Cordoba, Spain comes closest. This huge mosque was the jewel of Western Islam from the late 700's when it's construction was begun by the Caliph Abd Al-Rahman when he assumed rule over Moorish Spain in Cordoba until 1236 when the Christian King Ferdinand III conquered Cordoba and reclaimed the city for Christian Spain. It is truly an amazing building and beyond inspiring! Even with the changes to it brought by the Catholic Christians (closing off many of the entrances, especially those that led in from the Courtyard of Orange Trees, by the construction of private family chapels by those wishing to be buried within the walls of what became a Christian house of worship, along with the building of a giant cathedral right in the middle of the mosque) it is still a wonder to behold. There is nothing else I have ever experienced which has conveyed such a sense of wonder and mystery.

With its sea of columns in muted shades of rose and blue, a ceiling that is only 30 feet high, yet broken up by double arches of red brick and white stone so that it feels even lower, and simple floors of stone or brick it conveys a sense of the embracing, sheltering presence of God. It is the complete opposite of everything a cathedral attempts to communicate. Cathedrals stretch upward, striving to reach heaven, extending the gaze upward toward a distant God. Cathedrals want to remind us of the majesty, wonder, awesome might, grandeur, and power of a God who is both Creator and Sovereign, Ruler and Judge over the Universe.

That is not the sort of place where I worship at home. It is not the type of place which draws me closer to God and evokes within me a sense of God's presence and love. I can be moved by the awe-inspiring works of God in the world - Yosemite Valley, the Grand Canyon, mountains rising to the skies, plains and oceans stretching to the horizon - but it is in the quite times in my own closet, the serene times in a forest glade or by a mountain stream, in the small chapels and simple churches where I am most aware that God is with me. It is in these close, intimate, womb-like spaces where I receive the assurance again that I am beloved by God, that I am not alone in this huge, often cold and impersonal world, but God is watching over me, protecting me, and embracing me in love.

La Mezquita in Cordoba embodies that for me.

Adios, Bariloche!

This is my last post from San Carlos de Bariloche. It has been a wonderful place to visit and live for two weeks. My soul has been greatly nourished by the mountains and lake, even by the snow. I have seen amazing sights, I have met wonderfully gracious and enjoyable people, and I have reached the Intermediate 1 level in my Spanish studies. It was a great two weeks. In a few hours I board a Via Bariloche bus to return to Buenos Aires and life in the big city. I am much more ready for that reality now than I was six weeks ago when I stepped off that plane from Miami. I am looking forward to the experience of simply living as a local for the next 4 weeks.

As I leave Bariloche I want to share with you the Cathedral of La Nuestra Senora de Nahuel Huapi. You have already seen exterior photos of this Cathedral, because it is right in the center of the view from my apartment bedroom. But one day this past week I visited the Cathedral and it is a wonderfully peaceful, sacred space. I could truly worship there on a regular basis and find a connection with God. It is not the oldest church I have visited in Argentina, but it is one of those where I felt a strong presence of Spirit.

The Cathedral was built in 1946 and the construction is clearly more modern than the ancient cathedrals, including the use of concrete in the pillars, walls, and vault structure. But it also made heavy use of stone and it quite attractive. The name remembers the image of the Virgin which accompanied the first Jesuit missionary to the region in 1670 and they have a replica of that image, a sculpture, that graces their altar area. It is quite lovely.

Only two blocks from the Lake, the Cathedral sits on a small bluff overlooking the water. As a result, even though the lake shore drive, a very busy street, runs right alongside, it is several meters below the level of the Cathedral and the park which surrounds it, and it does not impact the serene setting. On my last day of class, walking by the park, I spotted a flock of raptors, some sort of hawk or small eagle. I never knew these birds to function in flocks, but these clearly were. It was not a huge group, maybe six birds, but still, I have always known raptors to be solo creatures, at most functioning in pairs. It was interesting and I got some great photos.

Anyway, follow the link below to the Kodak Gallery Album to enjoy the inside of the Cathedral. Someday, I hope to return to Bariloche and share it directly with Dianne. If you make a visit to Buenos Aires, I would encourage you to definitely put it on your itinerary. It is a gem spot in a country filled with amazing and beautiful places to visit.

The link for the Cathedral photos is: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.8qae3nkm&x=0&y=-6geaaz&localeid=en_US

The Churches in Cordoba

While in Cordoba I visited many churches. It is a city filled with history. Cordoba is one of the oldest cities in Argentina, founded by the Spanish extending the reach of their territory from Peru, in 1573. With the arrival of the Jesuit missionaries 23 years later in 1596, Cordoba quickly became an important educational center in the new Spanish territory and colonies in South America. I will say more about this and the Universidad Nacional de Cordoba in a future post. Now I want to share with you about the churches.

The oldest church in town, at least in terms of the beginning of its construction, is the Iglesia Catedral, the Cathedral. Construction began in 1577, but dragged on for over two centuries under several architects, including Jesuits and Franciscans. As a result it lacks architectural unity, but it is still a beautiful structure. Crowned by a Romanesque dome, it overlooks Plaza San Martin, the main Plaza de Armas of the city. Its lavish interior was painted by renowned cordobes (Cordoban) painter Emilio Caraffa. As in many Catholic Churches, I found the interior very gaudy, overly decorated, and filled with all sorts of statuary, dioramas, and other religious art work.

The second oldest church in town is the Iglesia de la Compania de Jesus. Its construction began in 1645 but was not completed until 1671. It was designed by the Flemish Padre Philippe Lemaire, who was once a boat builder. This fact is important because it helps explain the most interesting ceiling construction of the church, which is designed like an inverted hull of a ship. There are not apparent supports, other than the walls, and to achieve this effect, Lemaire constructed the entire ceiling out of Paraquayan cedar, a very light wood, from Misiones province, in northeast Argentina. The entire design is new world baroque, and the baroque altarpiece is also constructed from Paraquayan cedar, which is overlayed in gold. It is also interesting that the structure was built in segments in Misiones province, to exact dimensions taken by Lemaire, and then transported to Cordoba to be assembled in the Church.

The other extremely interesting church I visited was the Parroquia Sagrado Corazon de Jesus de los Capuchinos. This was probably the most fascinating of the Churches. It is built in the neo-gothic style and was constructed between 1928 and 1934. Its glaring oddity is a missing steeple (omitted on purpose to symbolize human imperfection.) It is gorgeous inside and out. Outside the facade is covered with statues, beginning with the lowest statues a series of Atlases symbolically straining to bear the spiritual weight of the religious figures above them, which include the 12 apostles, Jesus, numerous female characters, or angels, etc. Be sure to check out the pictures in the Kodak Gallery link.

Cordoba will go down, probably, as my most religious week in Argentina. I began the week by attending worship in a local Evangelical Church. I learned that they worship primarily in the evening, probably because Argentinos stay up late, sleep late, and are more geared to night-time activities, but my hostess really didn't know the reason. I visited six Catholic churches, two of them twice, and three of them on Sunday when mass was being held (I did not stay for any of the masses, but I did look in and noticed that they were fairly well attended.) My impression is that contrary to what I have been told by many of the local people, the religious life, even the life of the churches, is alive and well, even vibrant. Undoubtedly it could be stronger, but then again, the religious life in the United States could be stronger as well.

If you are interested in viewing more pictures of these churches, follow these links to the Kodak Gallery albums I have created. You do not have to join anything to view the albums, just click the "view album" option. If you want to save the photos to your own account, then you have to open an account, which is free.

This link goes to pictures of the Main Cathedral: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.8ei6fytm&x=0&y=uzfbz3&localeid=en_US

This link goes to pictures of the Church of the Jesuits: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.9o8kje16&x=0&y=clvf24&localeid=en_US

This link goes to the Church of the Capuchinos: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.3q1l2bgq&x=0&y=n9im85&localeid=en_US