While we were on pilgrimage, the US Supreme Court (SCOTUS) held forth its opinion in the case of Masterpiece Cakeshop v. Colorado Civil Rights Commission (CCRC), popularly known as the “anti-gay bakery case.” I would like to revisit it now, because the popular views of the court’s ruling (both for and against) were so misinformed as to be unintelligible, and to consider what this case portends with respect to the ongoing crisis of incivility.
First, to the facts of the case. It is important to understand that what I write in this paragraph is not an opinion of mine or anyone else. The facts of this case were never in dispute: neither the plaintiff nor the defendant disagreed about them. Those facts were: Mr. Phillips was a Colorado baker who makes both normal, daily bakery items and custom-ordered designs. Mssrs. Craig and Mullins were a homosexual couple living in Colorado and planning to get married in Massachusetts, and they went to Phillips’ Masterpiece Cakeshop to order a custom cake to celebrate their impending nuptials. Phillips refused to create such a cake, due to his religious beliefs that marriage was only between a man and a woman. Phillips admitted he had no religious obligation to refuse them normal service, and offered any off-the-shelf product to his customers. Mssrs. Craig and Mullins filed a civil complaint before the CCRC contending that Phillips violated Colorado’s law against discrimination. The CCRC held Phillips in violation of the statute and fined him.
SCOTUS held for Phillips, the plaintiff, voiding the penalties applied to him by the CCRC under Colorado law. Conservatives of various stripes hailed this as a victory for personal religious liberty; progressives cited it as a legitimization of hate. Most news coverage highlighted these viewpoints, even though both views were wrong. Let me explain.
The plaintiff’s case relied heavily upon freedom of speech, and only secondarily on freedom of religion. Phillips’ argument was that making a custom cake was artistic expression (already held to be freedom of speech by SCOTUS), and he could not be compelled to express a belief (gay marriage) he did not hold simply because his services were for sale. While all the opinions discussed this issue, it was not the basis of the decision. Writing for the 7-2 majority (an important point, that), Justice Kennedy never resolved the discrimination vs. religious liberty issue, although he did concede that freedom of speech was at risk. What he focused on was the CCRC ruling, or more specifically, what the CCRC did and said in making that ruling. This is where it gets very interesting.
Citing the transcripts of the CCRC hearings, Kennedy found that the commission–which is responsible for protecting against all unjust discrimination, including anti-religious discrimination–had in fact engaged in anti-religious hostility. Commissioners “endorsed the view that religious beliefs cannot legitimately be carried into the public sphere or commercial domain, implying that religious beliefs and persons are less than fully welcome in Colorado’s business community.” One commissioner “even went so far as to compare Phillips’ invocation of his sincerely held religious beliefs to defenses of slavery and the Holocaust.”
I mentioned the outcome was 7-2. Unlike some of the controversial 5-4 SCOTUS decisions recently announced, Masterpiece Cake shop’s majority included Justice Kennedy (who established Gay rights in his former majority opinions) along with Justices Breyer and Kagan! The last two published a concurring opinion which emphasized that it would be ok for a state to punish the baker’s refusal, but in this case the state had engaged in religious hostility. Thus this aspect was not narrow, and the outcome even more striking.
Contra much public reporting, this case neither established a religious exemption for behavior nor legalized hate. What it did do was more important, in my opinion. SCOTUS held that suggesting religious believers, even individual ones, cannot express and act on their views in public is a form of anti-religious bigotry. Further, suggesting “religious people” are inherently no different than Nazis or slave holders is inappropriate. One can hear these arguments made regularly on social media. It is heartening to know that in the United States, such views are beyond the pale, and subject to civil sanction.
Civility demands we not question each other’s motives. Everyone is free to bring ideas forward for consideration, and those ideas will fail or succeed based on the merit in them. The Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., hoped for a nation where one was not judged by the color of one’s skin, but on the content of one’s character. It goes without saying our ideas should not be judged by the religion (or irreligion) of whoever proposes them, but by the quality the ideas possess.
Those who regularly follow my blog know I rarely venture into political commentary, as that field is overgrown with poisonous weeds and nasty critters. Sometimes, stuff happens that you just can’t ignore; this is one of those times.
The current US administration policy requiring the separation of illegal migrant children from their parents–for whatever reason–is an abomination. The DHS Secretary and others claim that this is simply the inevitable result of a series of court findings and laws passed under previous administrations. That is a technicality, and irrelevant. If it were the case, the separations would have commenced back in January 2017. Attorney General Sessions has admitted part of the reason is ‘to send a signal’ to deter further illegal immigration. You do not send a signal by mistreating children, unless you are the Mob, or MS-13.
This is an administration choice: a conscious policy decision. It must be reversed.
Why is the administration doing this? I contend that President Trump is irritated that he cannot get his border wall funded by Congress. Further, the policies of President Obama set a precedent that children illegally entering the country would be treated more favorably, and this predictably caused the latest immigration challenge of minors (with or without parents) arriving at our borders. It was a crisis in 2014; it is less so today, but still a challenge. We must be honest about the conditions that created the opportunity for this vile policy.
All that said, nothing justifies the current policy: it is abhorrent. We have to come to grips with several real issues.
First, the Unites States cannot accept all families and children who are threatened by violence in their native lands. It sounds sweet, but it cannot be. Thus we have to give our immigration officials guidance to determine who does qualify for asylum under such circumstances, and who does not. This will be hard, and will result in some sad cases. Anybody who wants to join the argument must answer the question “where would you draw the line?” If you just want to post pictures of children crying, you disqualify yourself from the debate. Posit a solution.
Second, we need to clearly publicize our policies in those countries which are the primary source of such immigration, mostly in Central America, and we need the cooperation of local governments with our policy. We also need to improve our relationship with Mexico, as this is the means for such migration and when we have poor relations, the Mexican government feels no need to assist us in reducing it.
Third, we probably need to fund President Trump’s wall. Notice I didn’t say “build it,” just fund it. It won’t work; I explained why here. But as long as it remains unfunded, he will continue to search for ways to leverage any issue into a trade for funding. That is what is happening now, in my opinion. It is a huge infrastructure project, it won’t get done anytime soon, and we can pull the funding as soon as the chief proponent is gone.
Fourth, we need a rational policy for temporary workers from Mexico. We had a good guest worker program (Bracero) for years until President Kennedy went along with spiking it in the 1960s. Re-institute it, which will immediately improve the US- Mexico relationship, help ICE re-direct to more important matters (like violent criminal aliens), and provide needed workers in agriculture (we are approaching full employment, meaning soon there will be more jobs than people to do them).
Fifth, whatever rules we come up with for families with asylum requests, or for entering illegally, we will need to have some way to detain them. Anyone arguing to resume the failed “catch-and-release” policy of past administrations is being irresponsible. While there is no immigrant crisis, the notion that we can simply detain such people then release them in the country until they eventually (could be years!) get a hearing is unworkable. Think it doesn’t cost us much? It led to the Trump phenomenon. Ponder that for a moment. Therefore, detaining families or unaccompanied minors is going to mean some type of camps, and we need to be clear-eyed about the conditions. They need to be safe, secure, and comfortable (remembering the standard of comfort migrants expect). The camps we have now are pretty good; don’t believe me, read this from the Washington Post. When we compare them to the Holocaust we undermine the case. The camps are not the problem; the stupid, immoral policy is the problem.
I will not apportion blame in this case; there is plenty to go around. Both sides are playing to their bases, using images and sound-bites to fire up the crowd. Since Mr. Trump is President and the Republicans are in control of both houses, it is incumbent on them to lead. The Democrats must stop using this issue as a tool for the mid-term elections. If anyone really cares about the people, the children, they will stop scoring political points and act, by compromising.
This is difficult, not impossible. This is unspeakable, not unsolvable.
During my social media sharing of our adventure on the Camino Frances to Santiago de Compostela, some asked me what was my spiritual goal for becoming a pilgrim. I had a ready answer: to give thanks and praise to God for a life filled with blessings. After all, what can we give God: He needs nothing from us. He desires our love, and merits our praise and obedience. but how do you operationalize that, especially during retirement?
So I chose to go on a pilgrimage as a sign of respect and obedience and faith: God has given me so much, I should accept what He has in mind in this endeavor, too. I naively anticipated spending a lot of time in prayer at exquisite, ancient churches, long hikes on a smooth trail under a favorable sun, deep discussions with fellow pilgrims about the meaning of life.
What is that old saw? “If you want to make God smile, tell him your plans.”
What my wife and I got was something far more physically and emotionally challenging than we anticipated, despite many hours of training and over a hundred-and-fifty practice miles of hikes in the mountains of Mexico. The biggest challenges proved to be the keys to what God wanted me to learn, or at least that’s what I have discerned upon further reflection. Those challenges were: first, the overly positive view of the camino I absorbed from guidebooks and online sites, and second, the relentlessly, freakishly bad weather which seemed to follow us like Joe Btfsplk! (Lil’ Abner character if you don’t know; he always has a rain cloud over him)
(Blogger’s note: I covered this first learning point once previously here, so if you want to skip forward, please do. Go to the paragraph which begins “The second challenge was the weather.”)
Some who walk the camino have a remarkable spiritual experience that helps clarify the rest of life. They truly love the camino and want others to have the same type of experience. They often go back and do multiple routes or the same route multiple times, learning new things all the time. In their passion for what the camino has provided to them, they have a tendency to overlook how the camino might be experienced by other new pilgrims. They begin to describe steep hills as “gently rolling terrain,” forget about the dreadfully bad trail conditions going up and downhill, or just how truly dangerous the weather can get. I took such advice without the necessary grain of salt, and we (my wife and I) found ourselves in some very bad circumstances.
Up and down and rocky: this was a good part!
When we survived these situations, my relief quickly changed to anger, then rage. Neglecting to mention such challenges, or minimizing them, puts people at needless risk. This isn’t a question of “learning to overcome challenges”; as a former soldier, I know how that works, and it doesn’t involve exposing others to risk by failing to inform them. During my long camino hiking days, I wondered why God led us into such situations, and was I overreacting? Anger is a tricky emotion, as it can easily lead to all kinds of sin. I kept coming back to the notion of righteous anger: anger that is justified. Think Jesus with the money-changers in the Temple, Saints James (yes, Santiago himself) and John calling for vengeance, or “wipe the dirt from your feet” (Matthew 10:14).
Why would the Lord want me to experience such anger? What could it teach me? Prompted by the Holy Spirit, the thought occurred to me that I was tasting a small sample of God’s righteous anger at humanity as we fail him day after day after day. His justice would seem to necessitate severe punishment, and yet He relents, due to His Divine Mercy. My take was I was given this taste of divine anger to learn how to show divine mercy. Long way to go on that one, but at least I think I know what I am working toward.
The second challenge was the weather. If we had experienced even average weather for May in Spain, our camino would have been more enjoyable. I have to admit, the weather reminded me of the major military exercises I was involved with over 30 years ago in Germany (ReForGer, anyone?). It seemed like those exercises always occasioned long periods of gloom and rain. Bad weather is just one of those things that can affect any trip: so what?
I love puddles
This one was harder to understand. The poor weather interfered with my ability to pray as much as I intended: I had to focus on the slippery trail, the foggy route, or how hard the rain was falling. We had to spend more time on simple things like doing laundry, or finding something warm to drink, and less time visiting shrines or taking in the beauty of the countryside. So my initial reaction was that the bad weather was just bad luck.
When I returned home, one conversation I had on the walk up the mountain to O’Cebreiro kept coming back to me. The weather was cool that morning, and the fog dissipated. The clouds were thick but nonthreatening, permitting a little better view of the climb ahead of us and the valley behind us. For once, I was a little less obsessed with the weather, but still tired and not looking forward to the long uphill climb.
O’Cebreiro
Another pilgrim approached me along the way; I recognized him as someone who had been staying in some of the same towns, someone we had passed or had passed us numerous times. As he passed by me, I gave him a lackluster “Buen camino” and he responded with a hearty “it sure is! What a lovely day.” “Really?” I intoned. He explained that this is one of his favorite parts of the camino, and the weather was perfect for it. He had walked the Camino Frances several times, the earliest being back in the 1980s, before it was so popular. He remembered when O’Cebreiro, our goal for the day, was little more than a church and a few barns on top of the mountain. Now it’s a quaint little purpose-built village of bars, albergues, shops, and that church.
I admitted that I wasn’t feeling that warm, fuzzy glow about the camino he clearly was. He took that as a challenge. “Where else can you get a view of beautiful mountains and lush green valleys like this?” he asked. He didn’t expect my retort: “From my house.” “But what about the weather?” he parried. I replied, “Clearly better at home. I would be in shorts and sunglasses at home.” “Fair enough,” he continued, “but here on the camino you can meet total strangers and make quick friends over a meal, or a walk. Can you do that where you live?” Why, yes, I thought, that is exactly like where I live! But I didn’t say it: I simply smiled and told him, “Ok, buen camino!”
Home
That conversation eventually came back to me as a second spiritual growth point. Many people fall in love with the camino because it is so different from where or how they live. That wasn’t going to happen for me, because I already experience those advantages every day. I went on the camino in thanksgiving for blessings received: God was showing me that it need not necessarily have been that way. It is easy to accept blessings and become accustomed to them, especially when they seem so constant. I think the constant bad weather was a little reminder to enjoy what I already have, and to not take it for granted.
So I met my spiritual goals, even if it didn’t work out the way I anticipated. Pilgrims like to talk about finding “your way” on the camino. Sometime we have to remember what Jesus said: “Yo soy el Camino…”
As someone who just completed my first (and probably only) Camino, I want to take advantage of the perspective fresh in my mind to offer some thoughts to those considering taking on their first Camino Frances. I will approach this topic as objectively as possible, and try to note where my experience might have been unique, or what the general lesson is one should draw from my specific experience.
Nice trail; where’s the giant rolling ball?
First and most importantly, do research and training. On the latter, get all your gear, try it out and wear it in. If there is one area in which I would not economize, it is gear. Hike in varying weather, and do a lot of hills, not just up and down a mountain (like we did). Hike several (at least three) days in a row. Yes, there are people who just go and do the Camino. I was 19 once (and stupid), and just went and “did” a marathon. I even finished. It wasn’t fun. Training will make your actual Camino more enjoyable. My take away is there were far more hills than I expected, and far worse trail conditions, neither of which were adequately depicted in maps, guidebooks, or online. The worst trail conditions
Anybody need a rock?
occur on the steepest up and downhill portions, arguing for stronger ankle and sole support than you might otherwise use, and the use of hiking poles. Also consider buying shoes larger than usual to account for swelling of your feet. Make sure you practice whatever shoe/sock/treatment you select to prevent blisters and it works for you over long distances.
As to research, here you have to be careful. The obvious approach is to buy a guidebook and find a Facebook site and join a community like www.caminosantiago.me for info. One thing to remember is that online sites are full of other first-timers like you and Caministas, people who love the Camino. Think about it: those who quit the Camino, or hated the experience, are not hanging around to re-live it online. People who love something tend to overlook its flaws, so you have to take that into account. You can find lots of encouragement online, but also people who will tell you the trails are pretty good, the hills are all manageable, and that there’s always a cafe open in the next little town. They love the camino (which is a beautiful thing); they remember it that way, but they are romanticizing the Camino.
As to a guidebook, the online sites like Gronze or the Camino Pilgrim app are far more current and useful. I had two copies (different editions) of the infamous John Brierly “practical and mystical” guide to the Camino Frances, and they were practically and mystically useless. Mr. Brierly may be the world’s leading Caminista, but his “maps” are full of inaccuracies, which is an unpardonable sin for a guidebook. I only read a few of his “mystic” commentaries, which I found to be of Hallmark greeting card depth. If this works for you, great! His historical coverage was very good to excellent. If you are really dying for more Camino info, borrow an old Brierly edition from a friend or get one out of the library, but do not waste money buying this book, or ounces carrying it.
Consider “why” you are going on a Camino, and be as specific as you can. This may seem silly, but as you walk, you’ll face choices that will require you to revisit the “why?” So you need to have the answer in your pocket. Is it to walk every step from St. Jean to Santiago? To cross the Pyrenees? To be like a medieval pilgrim (more on that soon)? To get in shape? To get away from it all? To find yourself? A combination of these? Figure it out as best you can before you set off on the journey. It will make the decisions easier.
This one may be controversial: start in Pamplona. Why? Because it is easy to get to, it skips some awful trail time and very unpredictable weather, and it is a neat city to spend a day or two getting over jetlag. St. Jean is achingly cute, but hard to get to: right now there is no train (the line is out) and the bus is often oversubscribed. It leaves you to start with the difficult Pyrenees crossing, which can be very inclement: we had 2-3° Celsius, heavy fog, and howling wind on May 3rd! The bomberos rescued two pilgrims there with hypothermia the end of May. If you start at St. Jean, you’ll need to pack for cold weather you may not face for a while and the long downhill into Roncesvalles is prime territory for falls, blisters, and other trouble. It is not worth it, unless your goal requires crossing the Pyrenees (see earlier comment about “why?”)
Very cute
Some related thoughts: yes, the Camino Frances “starts” at St. Jean Pied de Port, but what does that even mean? When you drive somewhere, do you insist on driving to the “start” of the road? It is worth considering what a medieval pilgrimage was like, versus some idealized version we may have today. Pilgrims started from home. They walked because that was the only way to get there: you had to be rich to have a horse, and to keep it fed on such a journey. So don’t make a walking fetish out of their necessity! Do you think a medieval pilgrim turned down a cart ride to the next town? They walked the route of least resistance, begging or offering to work for room and board. The point was not to suffer, because life itself was already full of suffering. The point was to place yourself entirely in God’s hands, either as penance, or in thanksgiving, or in praise, and let whatever happens, happen. Guess what? Many pilgrims died on the way (to the oft quoted “the Camino provides” I always wanted to say “what? an early death?”). So you should probably disabuse yourself of the notion you will be recreating a medieval pilgrimage. It frees you to have your own Camino.
About that phrase “the Camino provides.” Now I know this phrase is shorthand for the spirit of goodwill one encounters on the way, but I think it is a little misleading. The Camino is a route. It is inanimate. It provides nothing. Sometimes, perhaps many times, other people provide help when it is most needed: other pilgrims, hospitaleros, locals. But do not think the Camino will provide. Consider this thought: if you choose not to carry Compeed for your blisters, and you get some blisters, you can sit and wait for help. But if the pilgrims following you all expect the Camino to provide, they will not have Compeed either! So help yourself by preparing with a few key items, which even if you don’t use, you can share. Among these are Compeed, pain reliever, anti-diarrheal, extra water, salt, sugar, cold meds, and antihistamines, and appropriate snacks. Most of these are things you can get at the next farmácia, but if you need an AD now, the next farmácia is always too far!
Try different lodging arrangements for the first two weeks, then select what you like best and schedule out three to four days in advance. Municipal and parochial albergues and donativos are great ways to meet people and save money, but if you want to stay in them, invest in some high quality earplugs or noise cancelling headphones. You will hear snoring the likes of which you never thought possible.
Splurge!
Private albergues, pensions, and hostals cost more and provide some privacy. You may decide to continue mixing it up after the first few weeks; just remember to keep scheduling out your reservations; once you hit Sarria it is essential, due to crowding.
Find an eating rhythm that works for you and Spain. In the smaller towns you can find places which cater more to pilgrim hours; in the big cities not so much in my experience. Many pilgrims get up early (0600) and have a small breakfast, get walking, stop mid-morning for a second breakfast, do lunch around 1330 and then dinner at 1930. Some pilgrim restaurants will serve a pilgrim menu (prix fixe) at lunch, some at dinner. Remember there is a siesta time in the later afternoon when even bars may close, and other hours where only tapas are served. Watch out for when breakfast (desayuno) is served, and especially for Sunday morning, when very little is open.
Consider taking shortcuts of all types. What!? No real pilgrim takes a shortcut: oh, but they did, and still do! Bring too much gear? You can ship it forward from any post office (Correos) in Spain. Have too much stuff to carry up that hill tomorrow? You can ship your backpack forward to the next stop. Notice a route where you are 500 meters from the next town, but the Camino zigs two kilometers to pass a church or Roman bridge? Go straight to the town, if you like.
Worth the extra time
Another even-more controversial idea: use the bigger cities as a way to make up time while extending your city-visit time. Big cities have buses, trains, and taxi routes. As you approach a big city (Burgos or León, for example), catch mass transit going in to avoid hiking the suburbs, and the same on the way out. Take the time you save (which could be as much as a day or two) and stay in the city. It is a shame to walk through a magnificent city like León and hurry through it. Don’t like the repetition of the entire Meseta, or the nasty downhill into Ponferrada? Skip some or all. Again this might seem like heresy, but do what fits in with your schedule and personal goals, not what everybody else does or a Camino purist suggests. You will hear people say “it’s your Camino” but that phrase sometimes comes with an implied “tut-tut” when what you have decided to do does not meet with the other person’s ideal Camino. Here is the plain fact: everyone walks their own Camino, and no one walks the same Camino twice. It is just “the way” to where you are going. Be confident in your choices.
Know what weather most affects you, and prepare to mitigate it. I can easily handle hot weather and rain; I find cold rain and wind unbearable. You can’t prepare equally for all the weather possibilities, especially in the Pyrenees and Galicia. For the outlier weather, you might consider rummaging in the “give-and-take” box at your albergue. Take something, wear it as needed, get it washed, and either drop it off or return it.
Ugliness wins!
Fight the urge to leave behind something about you on the Camino. Graffiti is ugly, tasteless, and illegal regardless of what it says. Some like to place rocks on everything. Making a stone-pile arrow to point the way? Very cool! Piling rocks on every route marker? No. Sometimes those markers are the only place to sit down for miles! You will see some nice permanent memorials to recent pilgrims who died on the way; others add pictures and papers and toys from their loved ones to these memorials, which is
Let it be
touching, but eventually results in a wet pile of rubbish. Some pile up rocks as little altars; perhaps they anticipate small druids coming behind them? Here’s a suggestion: if you have this urge, find some larger flat rocks and make a seat. I guarantee you pilgrims coming along behind you will bless you everyday. Better still, use your sharp ended poles to pick up trash; carry a spare bolsa with you and dump it when you take breaks.
On a related but delicate topic, you will probably do as bears do and poop in the woods at some point. Some pointers: do not stop, drop, and roll. First, identify a relatively private spot. Second, use the heal of your shoe to kick (back and down) a small dent in the ground: it might take several kicks. Aim and fire. If your aim was bad, use your TP to get your product in the hole. Place the TP there too, then kick dirt back over the hole and move on. I guess this word hasn’t gotten around, based on the elephant burial grounds I stumbled into off the Camino!
The fewer clothes you bring, the more you will rely on laundry. This means to keep your pack light, you become more vulnerable to whether (your next stop has laundry services) or weather. Sure, under some circumstances you can just wear the same clothes again, but do you really want to? We had cold, wet weather nearly the entire month of May. We could always hand wash our clothes, but that meant wearing clean wet clothes in the morning. Sometimes the dryers worked, sometimes not. In the bigger towns, we usually found a laundromat, which was always clean, well-equipped, and cheap. I strongly encourage pilgrims to consider this option, as it only cost about an hour of time and six Euros for warm, clean, dry laundry.
Finally, a comment about pain, suffering, and discouragement. You’ll encounter all of them on the camino. Some suggest this is the heart of the Camino, this is how you discover something about yourself: they did. If that is the case for you, I can assure you, the Camino will indeed provide. You don’t need to seek pain out, or add to it. One of the main lessons I re-learned is we all have our limits, and they are all different. When well-meaning enthusiasts are telling you to just keep going, keep carrying, it’s not that bad, remember all those pilgrims who didn’t make it, back then or now. Yes, push yourself, but recognize your limits, and finish your Camino, according to your goals, under your rules. Buen camino!
Here’s a collection of thoughts I had walking in the rain across Spain. I was too tired most nights to flesh them out and post them, but they lingered in my mind, so here they are now. If they are half-baked, put them back in the microwave for a few minutes and see if they make more sense.
Extroverts probably enjoy the Camino more then introverts. Introverts can certainly find quiet time and walk alone, but for extroverts, the Camino Frances is like an extended, adult summer camp. Every 100 meters or so, there is a brand new friend you can share your life story with, and who will share theirs with you! Look, we already have something in common: we are on the Camino! Extroverts can overshare with little worry, pledge to be BFFs, then move along to the next fellow pilgrim. That has to be very attractive to extroverts!
Oooh, friends!
The single biggest variable in whether you will enjoy your Camino is this: do you really like the great outdoors? Yes, I know, Captain Obvious talking here, but in all the reading and research I did before the Camino, I never saw it put that way. You’re spending 8-12 hours outside every day. If you are an outdoors person, you will find a way to love the heat, the cool, the rain , the fog, the mud, the dry, the pollen, the manure, and (ahem) eliminating in public. If you’re not such a person, these things will wear on you. Simple as that.
I love puddles!
John Brierly of guidebook fame had a social media post the other day where he was defending his inclusion of “mystic” guidance in his books because he feared that pilgrims were losing the notion of pilgrimage as something more than a hike. I am sympathetic to his view, but he misses the religious forest for the mystic trees. Would-be pilgrims come primarily from a variety of advanced, industrialized societies that are increasingly secular. You can’t take someone steeped in non-religious or anti-religious culture and give them a few mystic thoughts for their walk in the woods and get a “pilgrim.”
99.9% of the Bicigrinos (bike pilgrims) are wonderful people who ring bells, shout “buen Camino” and share the trail well. Those that weave through the walkers at 30 kph on treacherous downhill sections without warning? Saint James would like a word with you.
Northern Spanish cuisine, in which I include Basque and Galician, is very simple but delicious: high quality ingredients without many additional spices or sauces. It restored my faith in peppers as something not to be feared, just enjoyed.
Speaking a little Spanish goes a long way on the Camino. Just mastering a combination of por favor, buenas-, gracias, ay-perdon, lo siento, and donde will help immeasurably.
Some pilgrims (apparently) carry things like Sharpie’s in order to write something profound and permanent in public. Don’t. You are not profound, even after a pitcher of sangria. Nor are you witty, or original, or encouraging, or motivating, or appreciated, when you scrawl or scratch something on a fence, tree, rock, or whatever. Just walk, por favor.
No.
How many more pilgrims can the Camino Frances sustain before it becomes a Disneyfied charicature of a pilgrimage? The numbers keep increasing, and the way from Sarria at times resembles the walk toward a football match from a distant parking lot. It is ok for now, but continues to grow at a steady rate.
The Camino will redefine the meaning of the word “hill” for you. Mountains will still be the same, but from now on, when someone says “there’s a hill” you will go all Crocodile Dundee with a “that’s not a hill, this is a hill” story from the Camino.
I got very angry several times out on the Camino: not just mad, but downright seething. It was always due to bad information provided to me, that led in turn to either bad advice or bad decisions, which could have been dangerous for my wife and me. I prayed about why this was happening. Certainly God didn’t want me to accept this with equanimity (“hey, we could have been seriously injured, but no harm, no foul!”). No, this was righteous anger, and it was our very own pilgrim St. James, one of the sons of thunder, who asked Jesus to call lightning down on evil-doers. In a moment of clarity, the Holy Spirit inspired this thought in me: my righteous anger was a tiny taste of that which God experiences every day, as we promise to do better and then fail Him time and again. His justice would demand severe punishment, but his Divine Mercy is fathomless and unrelenting, if we only ask for it. So He forgives us. My anger was just a prelude to learning how to be more merciful, just as God is merciful.
Angry like this guy
One of the big mysteries of the Camino is “will the Botafumeiro swing when I reach Santiago?” Here is a good clue. Around 1030, go to the museum and get a Pilgrim’s ticket and walk around. When you get to the 2nd level, the cloisters, walk around the courtyard to where the entrance to the Sacristy is (it is marked, but with a Prohibida sign). If there’s a brazier out in the corner of the courtyard and it has charcoal heating up, the Botafumeiro will swing at the end of Mass. You can use the side entrance from the museum to go directly into the cathedral and see the Botafumeiro, then return to the museum.
Look, a clue!
I will have one final Camino post, a wrap-up for those considering doing the Camino.
Those who suffered through my last commentary (Everything you know is wrong III) learned about the US Republic, but you probably left the blog wondering “what was that all about? Did Pat drink some bad tequila?”
The answer to the second question is “no” (because there is no bad tequila), but here’s the answer to the first question.
The fact that the US is a Republic based on a Constitution has two important implications: one about the document itself, the other about the people it serves.
Americans hold their Constitution in high regard. We are right to do so, as intelligent observers around the world have commented on its simplicity, its insight, and its longevity. But the document is not magical. It works not just because it was brilliantly designed, but because it was ideally matched to the culture and characteristics of the American people (circa 1791).
Freed America slaves who returned to Africa to establish the nation of Liberia borrowed large parts of the US Constitution to little success. The US Constitution begat similar efforts in 19th century Latin America, post-Great War Europe, and post-colonial Africa, again with mixed success. The US Constitution was a unique match of brilliant political theory and informed citizenship.
What was the indispensable characteristic of that citizenry? Here the founders were unanimous: virtue, or as we call it today, morality. Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, Patrick Henry, and George Washington wrote about it. Samuel Adams said “Neither the wisest constitution nor the wisest laws will secure the liberty and happiness of a people whose manners are universally corrupt.” John Adams said, “Public virtue cannot exist in a nation without private virtue, and public virtue is the only foundation of republics.” and added “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”
And these are just the pull quotes. All the Founding Fathers wrote and spoke about how important the virtue and morality of the American people were. This is not to say the Founders or the citizens were saints. Those same Founders tolerated America’s original sin–slavery. The candidates and their supporters in the Presidential election of 1800 engaged in far more slander than anything any candidate said in 2016!
Rather, the comments about the virtue or morality of the American citizenry described their common understanding of right and wrong. While the United States had no established religion, its people broadly accepted a code of conduct based on Judeo-Christian values. Even the Founders, many of whom were Deists, held the same beliefs, as Deism was a Christian off-shoot (heresy is the technical term). This morality, these virtues, matched uniquely with the Republican government developed under the Constitution.
Back at the beginning of the Republic, the American people had a common conception of right and wrong, even if those same citizens were individually more or less virtuous. Today, our citizens are just as likely to have different levels of virtue, but there is no common understanding of how to measure right and wrong. Religious participation continues to dwindle, and many organized religions follow, rather than lead, public mores. Some argue religion has no right to a voice in American government: a point historically inaccurate and (frankly) bigoted. Nevertheless, I would concede that religion has mainly lost its voice, while no alternative voice has succeeded it.
Instead, we have replaced a shared public morality with an individualistic one. As Justice Anthony Kennedy put it in Planned Parenthood vs. Casey, “At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.” There is little room for me to compromise with you when you have the right to define the meaning of the universe.
All of which leads to my final point: many of the problems we as Americans identify today are actually only symptoms of the real problem: the lack of a common morality. Our Republic requires it. Arguments about policy are just about politics (the art of compromise), while arguments about morality are good versus evil, and compromise is immoral. You can see this play out in issue after issue today: gun control, abortion, free speech, police violence, marriage, welfare, etc.
This is not a call to return to the days of that good, old-fashioned religion; a culture can never return to its past. This is more a caution. America has only once experienced a similar moral debate: slavery. The issue was fundamental to concepts ranging from individual freedom and human rights to property, states’ rights, and habeus corpus. It took a bloody civil war to address that issue, and another one-hundred years to finish the argument.
I trust I have made a case for why our Republic needs a shared morality. I wish I had an easy answer for how we regain one. I have not heard anything beyond some platitudes thus far. I am open to good ideas: I know I am praying on this already.
As Paul Harvey used to say, my friends, “and now you know the rest of the story.”
The topic today is government, specifically, the type of government in the United States. If I asked you what form of government the United States has, what would you say? A democracy? A constitutional democracy? A representative democracy? An oligarchy, run by big government elites? Anarchy (especially under the current administration)?
This is not an academic question: if you don’t know what type of government you have, you may be surprised when things happen that you thought could not–or should not–happen. I noticed this after the last Presidential election, when the popular vote did not track with the electoral outcome, and many commented that this should not be. I saw it again recently when the very vocal students marching for gun control were talking about making democracy work. You will often hear politicians and thought leaders referring to “our democracy.” I trust they are using a shorthand reference, but are they correct? What is our form of government? As Warner Wolf used to say, “Let’s go to the videotape.”
Anybody remember him?
Okay, there is no videotape, but there is a historical record. But when asked what form of government the new Constitution established for these United States, Benjamin Franklin responded, “A Republic…if you can keep it.” The Founding Fathers had many negative things to say about democracy as a form of government: they saw it as majority rule, or the rule by factions, as they called it. The Federalist Papers (especially Federalist #10) detail their concerns: They wanted a government “of the people,” but they distrusted the average “person.” So they built in several safeguards, limiting the franchise (i.e., the right to vote) creating the electoral college, bifurcating the legislature. While we can all agree some of their methods were morally suspect (e.g., denying women the right to vote), their intent was sound: people making the choice of our governmental representatives should be informed and properly disposed. The Founders thought it very important to use voting as a means to establish the representatives in our government, but they knew the masses could be impassioned and misled.
Here’s another hint: recall the beginning of the Pledge of Allegiance. “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands…” Now the pledge has no authoritative standing, but it has been around since the late 19th century, and represented the common knowledge and wisdom of our culture.
Now, before I go any further, one must recall that the names political parties give themselves (today and historically) are not relevant within this discussion. In the Cold War, communist governments called themselves democratic socialist republics. In the United States, today’s Republican party was cobbled together out of the old Whig and Free Soil parties, and once gave birth to the Progressive party (in the early 20th century). Today’s Democratic party began as the anti-federalist Democratic-Republicans! As so much else in politics, you have to look past the labels. So forget about them, for the time being.
Every form of government has to have two things: a source of its legitimacy (hereafter source), and an authority for its actions. In a democracy, the source is the people, and the authority is the majority. If you further define a government as a representative democracy, the source remains the people, but the authority becomes some form of legislature. Communist governments also said the people were the source, but claimed the party was the authority.
Republics can choose different forms of source and authority. A Monarchy can be a republic that chooses God’s divine right as source and a King /Queen as authority (or perhaps vice versa). Our own republic claims the people as source, but establishes a constitution as the authority. How do we know this? Majorities of the U.S. population have frequently been told that what they wanted was not to be, according to the Constitution. Likewise, various governments at the federal and state level have been denied their policies for the same reason. Now, the astute reader will point out that a majority can amend the Constitution. True, but not just any majority: only by a two-thirds majority of both Houses of Congress and three-fourths of the States! As you can see, it is a most difficult proposition, and hardly represents a trump card for “the majority” over the constitution as authority.
Over time, democratic methods have become more and more important within the U.S. republic. Federal senators were originally appointed by the States, to be the voice of the state governments to Washington (in addition to being the curative to the passions of the more democratically-elected House of Representatives). Some states sent poor representatives, since they saw it as a chance to get rid of one of their worst, or because Washington was far away and less important. In the early 20th century, this led to direct election of federal senators, a victory for democracy but a loss for the state governments, who to this day have no representative to the federal side.
Likewise, various states have experimented (as was intended by the Founders) with greater democracy. California has been at the forefront of this movement, especially with its ballot initiative process that permits simple majorities to enact amendments to the state constitution binding on the state government (recall Proposition 13, which famously tied the state government’s hands with respect to taxes).
Based on the evidence, it is clear the United States began as a republic. It is fair to say it has changed, and continues to change, toward more democratic aspects and methods. It cannot be called a democracy, even in shorthand. Why does this matter (“now he asks, after I read all this!”)?
A couple of my close friends are going through one of those quintessential “bad times” we all seem destined to experience eventually. Theirs includes cancer diagnoses (note the plural), which just complicate their lives immeasurably. And it leads other friends to question “why”as in “why is this happening to them?”
The why question is an obvious one under the circumstances, but it is the right question at the wrong time. Let me explain. At its heart, the why question is a search for an answer in order to assign blame. Its premise is that blame can be assigned: but why accept that premise? What makes a person think there is blame to assign? I know that some people trot out “the problem of evil” (an offshoot of the Why question) as a means to question the existence of God. If you are a believing Christian, there is nothing in your faith which would lead you to believe God is responsible for the bad things that happen. If you an atheist or agnostic, why should there be a reason? Sh*t happens, as the bumper sticker says.
Linking the fact that evil happens with the necessity of a cause is like misunderstanding irony: ironic humor requires a cause and effect, or else it is not ironic (an aside which permits me to post Alanis Morissette’s infamous song “Ironic”, which has either the most confused lyrics in the history of music <!>, or is meta-ironic, since a song about irony contains none. You be the judge.)
But I digress. The larger problem in my opinion is asking the Why question at the wrong time. Consider this allegory: Tax filing deadlines approach (public service announcement: they do!). You decide tomorrow is the day to complete your taxes. The night before, you order-in the spiciest Thai meal you can stand, open a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and stay up all night watching a “Die Hard” marathon on TNT. The next morning, as you gather your tax documentation, you wonder why it is so hard to understand tax instructions through a pounding headache and upset stomach.
Good question, bad timing. The why question is an important philosophical (and/or theological) question. The best time to ask it is not when you are hurting, physically or psychically, but when you are clear-headed and relaxed. Everyone must answer the why question eventually: refusing to consider it is just another way of answering it. So it is an important question. Like most important questions, it deserves careful attention, rational thought, and concentration.
Next time you’re sitting back on a beautiful day, after a good meal, with a fine Port (or Scotch, or your adult beverage of choice), consider it properly. Why…is there good in the world? Why have so many good things happened to me and those I know and love? In a world that is “red in tooth and claw,” (Tennyson), where evolution determines how the species progress and Nature does not care if it rains on your wedding day (sorry, Alanis), why is there any good at all?
When I first started blogging and reading social media. I was shocked by much of what I saw. I originally wrote this post at that time, but then I shelved it, sensing that maybe my experience was not widely shared. Since that time, things have gotten worse, and I have ample evidence from friends and acquaintances that many feel the same way. Here is what I wrote:
There is a meme with a long pedigree, going back to at least 1835, that cites the three questions, or three gates, or the rule of three. Sometimes it is attributed to Socrates, sometimes Buddha or a Sufi mystic, the Quakers or a nineteenth century poet named Beth Day.
Three things to consider before spreading gossip, exchanging info, or even speaking:
Is what you are going to say true, to the best of your ability?
Is what you are going to say good, either good news or something good about another?
Is what you are about to say essential to those who will hear it, and if not essential, at least useful?
A post which fails the first test is a lie or propaganda. One which passes the first and fails the second test is just an unwelcome, inconvenient truth; something which passes the first two but not the third is simply information, if irrelevant. One can see how any post which failed all three tests is malicious gossip, and therefore should not be shared. There is wisdom in applying these rules, especially with respect to information about other people.
I’d like to propose an adaptation of these rules for social media:
Have you verified what you want to post is true? This is a subtle change, but it removes the passive nature of the original with an active requirement. Just because you like it, or saw it in the Times or on a website is NOT good enough. Newspapers print retractions everyday, and first reports are often proven wrong. If you cite a media source, have you checked competitors? Did you check Snopes? If your source is partisan, have you sought an opposing view? If you quote someone famous, did you Google it? If it refers to a court decision, did you read the actual finding? Think this is overdoing it? How do YOU like to be on the receiving end of an endless stream of partisan screeds, troll-tweets and fake news? Don’t add to it; be value-added by checking the truth!
If it is true, have you questioned your motives? Ask “why am I posting this?” To antagonize someone? To score a point on the internet scoreboard? Will this cause someone to think, or just react? If the only response you seek is “Wow, you’re right!”, you may be virtue-signalling. If you are, you are also contributing to the social media echo chamber. Just don’t.
It was true, and your intentions are as pure as the driven snow. Great, now ask yourself “what good will come to those who read this?” Not good for you, mind you. Will they be better educated about an issue? Will they understand some little known aspect or nuance? Will they encounter an unexpected argument or a compelling case? Or it this a tired rehash or a polemic?
That’s it. The internet did not suspend the rules of civilized discourse–it just seems so. Simply because someone (even the President) violates them, that does not mean we abandon them altogether. If you think otherwise, where does it stop? By all means argue for your cause, and oppose hatred and bigotry where you find it, but do so with love and wisdom. The worst abuses have come from those who were certain they were on the right side of history.
Social media needs some rules. It is great for cat & dog pics, news on family, and finding old friends. It is not so good for informed discussion and adult discourse. Let’s make it better.
PS. This post was not directed at any of my good friends or their recent posts. Given the state of social media in general, I could post this ANY time.
If you stop and think about it, New Year and its eve are odd things to celebrate. We know time is an abstract, human concept. We know it is relative: the world uses the Gregorian calendar and tomorrow is 2018, but it is 4713 in the Chinese calendar, 5778 in the Jewish calendar, and 2561 in the Buddhist calendar. So what difference does it make?
Even the precise time of the calendar change is relative. North America is the last continent to experience it, and New York City is the focus. I recall as a child celebrating the New Year as it was broadcast live from NYC, even though we lived in the central time zone in Indiana. Now we can watch as cities in every time zone cross the New Year and celebrate, all in realtime. But why celebrate it at all?
That such celebrations are universal is undeniable. All those calendars I mentioned have a New Year’s Day, with its accompanying celebration. Even long-dead cultures left behind stories of celebration of a change in the annual cycle. It all points to one thing: the fundamental optimism of the human race. It seems that people everywhere and in all times hope for better times with the change of that calendar page.
Optimism is a double-edge sword. I know people who invest great time and energy trying to ensure the very best New Year’s eve date, party, or event, only to feel disappointment creeping into their midnight countdown. Now we all know the fate of our year is not determined by New Year’s eve, but what accounts for all that optimism in the first place?
Certainly human history holds no cause for such optimism: last century was the bloodiest yet, and one in which we eventually developed multiple means to destroy humanity or the planet itself, belying the notion of “the right side of history.” Why would history have an arc that bends toward morality, or liberty, or love for that matter? Of course, some (including me) believe history is unfolding according to a plan, although this guarantees nothing positive in the meantime, just a positive finale.
Perhaps that optimism we all feel is a tiny residue of a deeper longing that one day everything will be better. This is rightly called Hope, and it is not the same as optimism. We often use the word hope casually to indicate something we wish would happen. Hope is actually a form of trust: we hope things will end well because we have been assured, or promised, they will. So while history and our own experiences will often provide an overwhelming rebuttal to our optimism, hold on to the hope. Hope is a good thing.
Of course, one quiet day sometime after the New Year, ask yourself this: Not only what do you hope for, but why do you hope?
hundred-and-fifty practice miles of hikes in the mountains of Mexico. The biggest challenges proved to be the keys to what God wanted me to learn, or at least that’s what I have discerned upon further reflection. Those challenges were: first, the overly positive view of the camino I absorbed from guidebooks and online sites, and second, the relentlessly, freakishly bad weather which seemed to follow us like Joe Btfsplk! (Lil’ Abner character if you don’t know; he always has a rain cloud over him)
