“Why are you here?” - A Benedictine Priest in Rabanal
No small questions. How would you answer? What IS your answer? These were two questions that came to me at different times on the same day. The first question from Mark 10 came from my devotional reading during the Camino. I selected a recent work by the Jesuit James Martin, entitled “On Pilgrimage with Jesus” - I thought that was an appropriate title for devotional reading while on the Camino. He was reflecting upon the passage from Mark 10 and the question from Jesus struck me. I pondered the question, wondering what I would answer when one thing led to another and before I knew it we were trying climb a STEEP incline to our village for the evening…the question was filed away and somewhat forgotten.
That night we attended Vespers and there was a short homily by one of the Fathers. Opening words formed that simple question - “Why are you here?” Not here at Vespers, but why here on the Camino, at this time in your life?
At the moment of that question the haunting questions posed by Jesus came racing to my mind as well…”What do you want me to do for you?”
How would you answer? What would you say?
The next day we finished the climb we had begun so many days before and especially the day before - the climb to the Cross de Ferro. Sue mentioned this in her blog already. I will simply confirm, that I anticipated that this moment would be compelling, important, spiritual. It really was none of the above. I searched for it…I gazed at the cross, at the stones from 100’s of thousands before me each representing prayers and thanksgivings. I climbed the rock pile, touched the pole/cross, dropped my rock too. Then descended and made my way to the little chapel…trying to find the spiritual, the important, the compelling…nothing. It was very “sterile”.
We left the cross, and made our way to the next village where we were to try to call a taxi. And though I speak in the tongues of men and angels, Spanish ain’t one of the them. I watch as Sue and Rachel struggle to talk on the phone to alberges, hostiles, hotels, and taxis, and listen to how difficult communication can be. But we are here, at the top of the mountain, and we can NOT walk down, too steep, too long, too much for our wounded limbs. And, there is no place here to bail out and spend the night either…we have to get down. Oh we tried to make a taxi reservation the night before but the taxi guy said call tomorrow when you need the ride (and that call was made by a wonderful Spanish woman who was kind enough to help).
As we arrived at our stopping point to make the call (the call I was dreading), we were surrounded by love incarnate. Again, you can read Sue’s post about this for more info. From that point on the mountain till we were safely in the town many miles and thousands of feet below, we were in the midst of the love of God as 4 men from a catholic parish in Miami, along with their priest, all of whom spoke fluent Spanish and English, called the taxi, road with us, and got us safely to our hotel.
Doesn't sound like much…until you are there, seemingly stranded on a mountain with one hope to get down, and suddenly the love of God breaks through and shines brightly.
The priest asked “What are you doing here?” Do you have an answer?
I wont tell you my answer, although you can probably tell from the narrative of this post. But I think its important for all of us to get an answer, to have an answer, to consider these questions and make up our minds…What are you doing here…and what do you want Jesus to do for you?
Ultreya!