At the End of the World

Today, our first stop was Finisterre which means, literally, the end of the world. It was a name given to this cape in the northwest corner of Spain by the Romans—a political name, to signify that the Romans had conquered to the very edge of the known world (the world was flat then, after all.) Finisterre also became a place of religious significance because, if it truly was the end of the flat world and everything over the horizon fell off to hell, then Finisterre was the closest earthly place to Purgatory. By many, Finisterre is considered the very end of the Camino de Santiago—the story is that as Charlemagne commenced his slaughter of the Moors, he embarked on a pilgrimage on the Way of St. James and was told to follow the Milky Way to the tomb of St. James—the stars supposedly led him to Finisterre. 

Our day was marked by one squall after another, interspersed with moments of clear skies. Somehow we got lucky at every stop and avoided the driving rain.

The most spectacular spot to end our Camino, however, was further north and west of Finisterre, at the point of Muxia. It is hard to believe that the church here would be capable of burning, but the 12th century structure was struck by lightning in 2017. It was rebuilt and now contains, among the usual saints, models of fishing boats hanging inside.

Muxia has been the sight of countless shipwrecks, including the huge oil tanker that cracked on the rocks in 2003, spilling millions of gallons of crude that absolutely destroyed the livelihood of thousands of local fishermen.

It’s hard to believe this trek is over, but I believe I’m ready to head home tomorrow. I’ve had a lot of time to think and contemplate my faith—which was the whole point—and, for me, it all comes back to Frederick Beuchner:

                                           “Faith is less a position on than a movement toward.”

And I think THAT is how my perspective on my faith will change. If it’s all about “a movement toward,” then we experience that dynamic aspect of faith—it is capable of change, and may even REQUIRE change in order to stay relevant and alive. The downside of that, is maybe you never really ‘arrive.’ And that can be a challenge for me—I am goal oriented, I like to get to where I set out to go. 

Maybe, instead of trying to contain my faith in a ‘correct’ and static form, one of ‘arrival,’ I can explore allowing my faith to be dynamic, changeable, yet not buffeted or destroyed by all that noise around me. I don’t think I’m totally clear on how all that might work, but maybe that’s part of it, too. Maybe I just need to work on locking my controlling self in the shed somewhere and try being okay with not knowing every twist and turn my faith might take. And through it all, remember that the teachings and stories and example of living and acting from Jesus are a guide for a very good way to be in the world.

Good bye, for now, to Portugal, Spain and the Way of St. James. And thank you very much for the time, head and heart space for true reflection.