From the Camino: I regularly encounter art that moves me. Though I’ve never been on the Camino Frances, there are some iconic works of art on it that show up in enough places that they inform my spirit, though I’ve only seen them in pictures.
One of those is the cleverly hewn, masterly shaped, figures on the Alto de Perdón, some twelve kilometers from Pamplona, up a lengthy climb. The location was named after a hermitage and pilgrim hospital, in existence until the 19th Century, dedicated to Our Lady of Forgiveness.
Standing there is a sculpture, entitled “Monumento al Camino,” “Monument to the Way,” fashioned from sheet metal by Vicente Galbete in 1996. It was erected by EHN, the company that manages the nearby windmills, and the Association of Friends of the Camino de Santiago of Navarra. It depicts twelve pilgrims from a variety of times in the Camino’s history.
If you are not lucky enough to be standing there, to see the sculpture, it is worth viewing online by searching for Alto de Perdón.
Inscribed into the monument are the words, “Donde se cruza el camino del viento con el de las estrellas,” which means, “Where the camino of the winds crosses that of the stars.” It is a fitting note for a high pass where the strong winds drive the windmills on the surrounding slopes, and the peregrinos of the Camino also pass by.
When we journey through, several options are available to us. We can continue, more moved by the winds or the countryside, which stretches out to the horizon. It’s impressive. Why wouldn’t we be moved by it? We can take a quick photo of the sculpture, to process at some later date, which probably won’t happen. We can position ourselves in the procession of figures and take a photo, which is humorous, but does begins to respond to the installation’s intentions. We could also look closely at the figures, and take a slightly deeper dive.
Proverbs 2:6-10 – 6 For the Lord gives wisdom, from his mouth come knowledge and understanding; 7 He has success in store for the upright, is the shield of those who walk honestly, 8 Guarding the paths of justice, protecting the way of his faithful ones, 9 Then you will understand what is right and just, what is fair, every good path; 10 For wisdom will enter your heart, knowledge will be at home in your soul.
For reflection: There are twelve pilgrims. Twelve is, from ancient times, the number of the People of God: twelve sons to Jacob founding twelve tribes of Israel, and twelve apostles founding the Church. This sculpture becomes a fitting for the Church, a pilgrim people, always on the move. Consider, if you are a follower of Jesus, that you are already incorporated in that sculpture.
Eleven of the figures are joined by a series of lines extending from what are walking sticks for at least three figures, though many are not held by the figures at their side. Throughout the centuries, we are pulled along, as are the figures in the sculpture, by the path formed by the feet of the many, many who have gone on ahead of us to Santiago.
The first person in the sculpture, at the front of the procession is alone and striding boldly forward, head thrown back and open to what lies ahead, breaking new ground. Perhaps a pilgrim, from the earliest times, perhaps us in the morning, fresh and ready for the day. Rather than dreading the ending kilometers of the day’s walk, perhaps we might start each day, in the moment, in the freshness of the morning, enjoying our strength, head held high. Let the walk’s last kilometers tend to themselves.
The next figure, amply decorated with scallop shells, wearing the pilgrims cape, is focused on the pilgrimage, its symbols and purpose. After a fresh start to our daily walk, is there anything that we need to dedicate ourselves to considering or discussing? Is there someone we need to listen to closely? Is there a need for silence? Is there an area for inner growth and transformation? Does the moment call for an awareness of our happiness or sadness, an appreciation of the beauty, or perhaps the heavy weight of some industrial blight?
The next pair are male and female companions together. He bears two scallops on his clothing. The wind lifts the tie of his hair and the ends of her scarf. The companionship of a friend, a partner, a new companion, a spouse lifts us up, too. Consider the partners you’ve brought, and the friendships you’ve made, and be grateful for what they’ve brought into your life. Carry on together as long as the companionship is graced…which doesn’t necessarily mean easy. Is there something to learn or to teach? Is there a connection that binds? Are there shared experiences of mutual care? Is there a challenge, a gauntlet thrown, that needs to be probed, accepted or discarded?
The next figure, marked with the words “Parque Eólico del Perdon” (“Windfarm Park of Pardon”), rides astride a donkey, along with the pilgrim’s possessions, prodding the donkey from the rear with a short stick. When we walk, for the most part, we are our own donkey, carrying our possessions. Some choose to employ taxis to move a small bag ahead of them. Some will disparage this, but we know from the most ancient sources that people used animals to carry their possessions on pilgrimage when they had the means. If you can carry your gear, and learn that set of lessons, it’s a grace. If you can’t, get yourself to Santiago if you can, as you can. Do what you must, be it donkey or taxi.
Following the donkey are two people astride their horses, accompanied by their dog. Their spears (?) fly pennants with shields. Are they wealthy entrepreneurs, or more likely, nobles, with their medieval haircuts? Consider your own place in life. The average modern westerner has a broader diet, a more comfortable bed and clothes, far more speedy forms of transportation, and a much readier access to clean water for drinking and bathing than the kings and nobles of the medieval world. If we appreciated what we had, we might compare ourselves less, and find some joy with our place in the world. We’ll all stand naked before God, clothed only in our faith and the good we’ve done. So the nobles are in line with us. They also need to go to Santiago.
After the nobles, comes a figure, holding a walking stick, arm pulled back and pulling a loaded donkey, whose high head might suggest that the beast of burden is resisting. We, all of us, pull all manner of experiences, memories, scars and hurts along with us in life. Their weight oppresses us, slows us down, and demand our attention. We might do well to focus on the road ahead of us, as opposed to the trials behind us. Can you envision that young figure casting off the donkey and the constant, pulling resistance from behind, and charge forward? Is there anything you need to let go of today…even if it’s just for today…so that you can charge forward in your life, or perhaps just on today’s walk?
Many of the figures are ambiguous, regarding gender, but the next figure is that of a woman, walking alone, holding strongly to her staff, carrying her cloak. She doesn’t wear a long dress, as one might have expected. She has shed some of past cultural restraints. She’s a strong figure, looking forward, with head held high, to the road ahead. The crook of her arm forms a scallop shell. She is truly a pilgrim. The Camino has always been a place for women, but never more than the present moment. If you have fears, stare them down and overcome them. Make wise choices. Know that you are strong and gifted. Your journey has a purpose. You have your own proper place in the procession.
In the last three figures, clothing becomes a focus. The solitary figure, with hair tied back, wears clothing from the enlightenment. With the Reformation, advances in the sciences, and the perpetual political problems that have dogged human history, pilgrimages shrank drastically in that time, and this figure walks alone, the only representative of that time. All of us, though, need to walk alone in the sense that we don’t and shouldn’t be simply representatives of our time. Sometimes we need to rebel from the broken assumptions of our contemporaries, and the shallow values of our cultures, and the violence of our times. The figure is somewhat bowed down, and you might be, too, by the world you live in. Even so, the figure walks a solitary way to Santiago. The very determination that inspires this pilgrim may also be yours. Walk on, if weighed down, still hopeful.
Finally, the last two figures wear clothes you might be wearing, and carry modern backpacks. We may have found new ways to dress ourselves, and to carry our possessions, but the human drama of pilgrimage plays on in our lives, and we, like the very last figure, are marked by the scallop, as true pilgrims of our times.
Behind them, I envision many further pilgrims, who will look forward to what we did, and wonder what we were thinking and moved by in our own ancient times…in the twenty-first century. And they will walk in our footsteps, wondering about us, but focused on their own need for transformation and yearning for their own experiences of God.
