Jesuit student, John Callanan, tells about his experience on the “Camino de Santiago” and how interacting with some of his fellow pilgrims gave him a new sense of God.
You might think it wonderful to be a twenty-four-year-old student, just finishing four years of study. Maybe it is, but that’s not the way I felt two or three weeks ago. I was overworked and underpaid. But that’s when something wonderful happened. I got the chance to top off my college experience with a really creative and reflective exercise, and the whole thing happened by chance.
Something brought my eye to a notice up on the University boards. It explained that our chaplain and one of the student advisers would be taking a group of students on a pilgrimage in the footsteps of St. James. The route we would follow is called the Camino de Santiago and it’s one of premier pilgrimage routes in the world, situated in northern Spain.
Normally I’m not exactly ‘gospel greedy’ but I was prepared to see what might happen. The idea of Spain, and good company, combined with exercise and fresh air after the rigors we had been through all seemed attractive. The walk turned out to be a bigger ‘God experience’ than I had anticipated.
As soon as the exams finished, fifteen of us, from various courses and disciplines, set out on the two-week treck, gathering funds for Fr. Peter McVerry’s project for homeless young people in Dublin as we went.
On this pilgrimage, each day quickly took on a shape of its own. We started out just as the sun was rising, and walked until the really big heat of the day arrived. We managed 220 miles in all, and we were not alone. About one million pilgrims attempt the walk each year and to help them out, basic hostels are set along the trail where you can put down your head for little or nothing each evening. The two weeks was within even a student’s budget.
Each evening, our group met for liturgy (well, we did have a Jesuit priest walking with us and we had to keep him busy) and this was followed by a relaxing evening meal. As one of the group said, this was his third year in university and before that he had shared six years in secondary school with peer companions, but he had never experienced such a sense of comradeship before.
What he said was true, and I have to admit that I found the evening get-togethers pretty special. They gave us a chance to chew over what had been going on during the day and to reflect on experiences encountered during the university year. You could make sense of the madness.
For me, one of the most striking features of the walk was the number of interesting individuals I encountered. You meet all sorts along the way. Each has their own story.
Conversations with strangers would often start if I asked them what had given them the idea to begin. One answer stands out particularly for me. It came from a young Australian woman who revealed how she had been through a terrible time during the past year. God seemed to have deserted her. At least, that was how it seemed.
Her brother suffered from mild mental illness, and a year previously had been released from hospital. Her family was unprepared for this and felt the lad was far from well. In short, they believed the authorities were trying to get rid of her brother as they found him a bit of a handful.
As she put it herself, ‘As soon as he came back we were supposed to look after him. We did our best, but the pace of the city, allied to whatever demons he carried in his soul, were more than he could manage.
‘Within a very short time we were in trouble. One night, when everyone in our house was asleep, he just upped and left. Sightings of him indicate that he headed for local hills but that was over a year ago. No trace has been seen of him since. We have to assume that trying to survive the rugged landscape was too much for him and he just perished.’
‘I was devastated after he left and felt responsible. This weighed on my mind for weeks and I began to go downhill. Where before I relied on God, now He seemed totally absent.
‘All my friends noticed the change. They were really worried about me. Finally one of them suggested that I might take on this sponsored walk and make some money for those in Australia who suffer from depression. That’s exactly what I’m doing now.
‘As I’ve walked along, I’ve tried to think about my brother. I’ve talked about this with a few individuals along the way and the very act of talking seemed to relieve my plight. Sharing my guilt and shame has helped me regain a sense of balance.
‘In some strange way, I sense that his life and death have brought about something productive. I’m not saying the walk has been easy. It hasn’t. I almost gave up, but the friends who pushed me into starting in the first place kept e-mailing me with prayers and encouragement. Whatever they have been doing, it’s working.’
I’ve thought about that conversation many times since my return from the pilgrimage. Both the exchange and the walk have had a profound impact. God seems more real and accessible. After all the mental exercise of college, this experience has been an antidote. I needed to get my head, heart and gut into balance. In the space provided I was able to stop rushing and let my spirit catch up with the rest of me.
This article first appeared in The Messenger (July 2008), a publication of the Irish Jesuits.
