Camino Reflections: Resculpted

Since my return, a number of people have asked me how the Camino experience has changed me. It’s really difficult to summarize a two-month journey and its impact. One American Lutheran minister I met towards the end of my journey told me that it took him a year to full process his first Camino. While that seemed long to me at the time, I am starting to understand what he meant. Like an onion, you just keep peeling back the layers and sometimes there are tears that come as a result.

The short version of how I was changed can be described as having my heart resculpted, reshaped and made much more sensitive to those around me. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve not been cold-hearted and unfeeling up until this point, but it feels a little like every encounter has left its mark on me.

The Ukrainian soldier who was on leave to recover after being shot who walked the Camino alone, reflecting on the loss of all of his friends in the war. The Hungarian man who lost his wife of 40 years to Covid and walks to remember her and remind himself of her essence. The young German man who struggled with alcoholism and was walking away from things far more than walking towards something. The young Israeli woman who winced when she heard a celebratory cannon shot in a local village. Two young people who found love as they walked. An American couple who offered fellow pilgrims a blessing with their glow in the dark pendants. The people who lost something precious to them on the road only to be reunited with it because another pilgrim found it and carried it along in the hopes of finding its owner. The young man from France who was studying for a poetry exam and discussing what Rimbaud was trying to express. And I’m barely scratching the surface of the stories I heard and carry with me.

This is what I mean when I speak of a resculpted heart and the tears that well-up in my eyes when I remember each of these people. We all walk the path for all sorts of reasons, but the thing we have in common is that we walk it with open hearts. We come to the Camino anticipating transformation and are therefore open to it. When your heart is open, it is also quite vulnerable. Put all these open-hearted people onto the same road and it’s hard not be transformed.

I’ve heard some people tell me that they were expecting some outer experience of revelation along the path and were disappointed when it didn’t happen. I guess it depends heavily on your expectation of where revelation comes from. Many people consider God or the divine presence as something outside of themselves, at a distance, that occasionally comes to visit in the burst of fire of a burning bush or a sky opening up with a loud voice from above. My divine encounters have always been more intimate than those. Even my call to ministry was in a very ordinary place (a laundromat) and revealed itself like a curtain being pulled back, allowing me to see my innermost self. My soul’s purpose revealed.

The Camino is profound if you walk it intentionally with an open heart. The transformation doesn’t come from outside of yourself… it comes from an internal openness to the experiences and encounters along the journey. It reshapes you, opens you up even further. It helps me feel joy and sorrow more deeply. It helps me have empathy in new ways. It has shaken me in ways that will take a long time to fully process, but in ways that I think make me more aligned with God’s dream for us all.

When I consider our congregations’ ministries, I think about how essential it is for us to offer space for that transformative encounter. Those who walk through our doors for the first time have come with anxiety, but they also come with an openness to the encounter. How do we accompany them and provide them with the space to touch the divine in our midst? Can our gatherings facilitate the heart-shaping, deeply engaging spirit? Can they be filled with awe, with mystery and with profound love?

When many of us light the Christ candle in our worship services, we speak of the candle’s light as Jesus. I think of the church as the place that helps to carry that light, the candle and wick that helps people to connect. We are not the light ourselves, we only give it a space and some energy to shine, just as the Camino provides the space for transformation. Our church has said that deep spirituality is a key focus for us. I think that’s what it looks like.

Rev. Éric Hébert-Daly spent June and July 2024 walking the Camino del Norte, the Camino Lebaniego, the Camino Primitivo, the Camino Inglés and the Camino Muxia/Finistera as part of his sabbatical. He walked 1458kms carrying his backpack across mountains, fields and coasts while holding communities of faith and ministry personnel in prayer. Éric will share some insights of his journey over the coming months.