Sunbathed in Hope

8 October 2015

Rabanal

Sunbathed in Hope

Rabanal is a small village on route to the famed Cruz de Ferro, the Iron Cross. I was blessed to stay at the same albergue I had visited two years ago. It is run by an English speaking Fraternity of Pilgrims. Cozy, a scheduled tea time, and with an intention to get pilgrims to interact and meet eachother. It is the right fuel for the test that comes the next day.

We began the morning with the remainder of a 1550m (5100 ft.) climb. It is higher in elevation and climb than the Pyrenees Mts. The reward is experienceing the holy shrine at Cruz de Ferro. It was erected in the 9th century. Historically, pilgims leave their home for the pilgrimage to Santiago with a burden stone. It is a stone they carry that represents some heavy burden they wish to release at the foot of the cross. With each straining step up, I rehearsed the names and one word burden request of family and friends. There are such heavy burdens we carry. Some burdens I was asked to carry included cancer, disease, infertility, dementia, depression, and so many other heartaches. I was privileged to carry them.

There is an exhilerating moment upon the first appearance of the monument. About 100m away you spot the rusty, iron midieval shape of the cross high in the air, a telephone post-like- mast holds it, then the mountain of stones built up about 10 feet from the trail's base. Millions of pilgrims have placed their burden stone there. Most all pilgrims approach the cross with reverence and a solemn prayerfulnes. Many pilgrims just stand at the base in tearful silence, some weep deeply, some cross their arms and bow their head in prayer. Afterall, this is a place for pilgrims to lay their burdens down.

I shed my pack and poles and made my climb to the base of the cross. I first placed the special holy card of Saint Pope John Paul II that the Gooch family asked me to offer for their family. Then I knelt down in the rubble of stones with a myriad of shapes, sizes, and some with messages written on them. I held out to the cross my burden stone. It was one I had on my desk for years that had painted on it the one word burden that I chose for my Camino. When I held up the stone, my word choice held an echo of divine irony in it. For I walked this Camino with the burden of desiring HOPE, more hope to be found on many elevations of my life. The irony that struck me was that while I was carrying nearly 82 names with their burden words, my single word HOPE startled me with a prayerful insight that HOPE is the answer for all of our burdens. God offers HOPE for all our needs. Was this Godcidence or divine irony?

I knelt on the rocks under a dark, cloudy sky at the foot of Cruz de Ferro, reading and rereading the names and prayer needs of all I carried in prayer those 300 plus miles. Each person's face came to mind, their life's heartache, their dear faith, their love for me, their hunger for God's mercy all contained in their one word burden prayer. I simply carried the single word they privileged me for which to beg God's mercy on their behalf. I felt such an honor to place those sincere prayers at the foot of the cross.

Cruz de Ferro is such a deeply contemplative place and is surrounded by many who also are desperately seeking God's intervention in their life. I chose to stay and prayerfully meditate in a simple shelter just 30 feet away. The morning unwound in my thinking. "What do you want me to take away from this moment, Lord? The irony of how hope connected to all of our burdens? What might you offer me to remember your gift of hope in a memorable way? You gave us the rainbow as a message in the sky to remember your promise. What might be painted within me to remember HOPE?"

Call it another Godcidence, coincidence, just a natural moment in any ordinary cloudy day, but something really touching occurred. Upon finishing the reflection, the dark clouds began to strain apart revealing glimpses of a brilliant white sun above. Far above the darkness, the azure sky and that gorgeous sun pierced the mound of the cross. It was such a stark contrast to the darkness and the warmth filled my chilled body. It was almost magical to experience. I gave long notice to the movement of dark clouds that veiled the brilliant sun far above the gloominess.

The experience played metaphorically in my prayer time like this. I contemplated, the sun is God's hope. It is always shining, just as the sun always shines on earth. Somewhere on the planet, there is sunshine. The dark clouds cover over. They drift in unwelcomingly into life. Their dark, rolling, heavy nature press down and stretch over a long horizon of days. Will the darkness of carrying this burden ever break? Where are you Lord in the cloudy darkness?

Questions like these pressed upon me. But the simple little moments the sun's breakthroughs served as that "rainbow in the sky" kind of message for me. HOPE is represented in the sun. A bright sun with all its warmth and light has become a new message within me to not give much attention to the temporary cloud cover because HOPE is still shining above. And, HOPE will break through again. All I need to do is to have faith.

Faith moves me forward, hope lights the path, and love makes the journey endearing.

So here is where the message goes from curiously interesting to spooky. Just as I was about the leave the cross, I said my final prayers of thanks and praise, the sun burst through the dark clouds. Heaven's floodlamp of "Son light" illuminated the monument.

I stood there sunbathed in hope.

Many may call it happen stance, coincidence, luck, or just a natural moment in an ordinary weather day that happened at just the perfect moment. I embraced it as a gift to me on the Camino. I pray that during my whole life I view a sun filled sky and think of it as God's sign that His hope is always there.

Sunbathed in hope,

Deacon Willie, DW