In order to get the graces and the cert (Compostela), you must do at least the last 100 kilometres
Garrett Fitzgerald on the ‘insights gained’ and the great good to be had from undertaking pilgrimages, and their key role in the protective response to ageing.
Elderly friends of mine have been looking out for their health lately. Gone is the longstanding certain conviction that the sooner they die, the earlier they make it to Heaven. Years ago, they couldn’t wait for the big day; now they wish to stick around and enjoy the known world. That man Dawkins will answer for this trickery in the finish.
When I say elderly, I speak only in terms of years — not condition. Eighty is the new 60. Twenty-year olds are still relatively in utero. Experts put this change down to a combination of apples and stents rather than angels and saints. Walking further than the length of oneself has become one of the new obsessions for those who are still naturally ambulant or who have already had the hips and knees replaced.
Unaided auto-salvation
Some have held on to the old ideas and, confidently and assuredly, wait for the thief in the night, as promised in the writings. The à la carte religious and the downright agnostic are now frequently seen to be engaged at not-so-formal refreshment of the spiritual tissues.
One of the most popular of such efforts at unaided auto-salvation is the big walk in Northern Spain to Compost Stella. Every second day, one runs into fellow wrinklies who are about to do the pilgrim route or who have survived it.
All, even those who have not yet set out, will try to convince you that no experience on this or other planet comes near. The returned pilgrims have not infrequently had occasion to double up on prostatectomy and laser halo excision — available only in the private sector.
In order to get the graces and the cert (Compostela), you must do at least the last 100 kilometres. If you wish to do the walk on your bicycle, you must do 200kms.
In 2008, approximately 130,000 registered pilgrims turned up; from my experience to date, I would estimate that most of them came from Waterford — many of these may also have been in the GPO in 1916.
July 25 is the feast of St James the Apostle (Santiago) who died in 44 AD at the ‘tender hands’ of Herod Agrippa and if you arrive on that day (different year of course), you are doing things properly. If it falls on a Sunday, you’ve really done the business.
Moor-slayer
Santiago is revered in Spain. He is the object of the pilgrimage. One of the 12 apostles, he was visited by an apparition of the Virgin Mary, and later personally beheaded with a sword by Herod Agrippa in Judea.
His body made its way to Spain with the help of angels in a rudderless boat. On arrival in Iberia, his relics were transferred to Compostela in Galicia and were swallowed up by a big rock. They were subsequently found during the reign of King Alfonso II. The pilgrimage dates from Alfie’s time sometime during the 9th Century.
James also reappeared miraculously at the never-even-happened imaginary Battle of Clavijo on the Christian side some centuries later and got the nickname Matamoros — the Moor-slayer — for his prowess in killing Muslims. Some CV for an apostle over a millennium and a bit!
I don’t go into the detail of which bits of the above my co-elderly friends actually believe while they are trudging the hills and dales of Galicia. Nearly all of them hope their next grandson will be named Jimmy.
One thing I have noticed is that several of them are big into the Paleo diet and will only partake of meat they have personally killed (many go lamping rabbits at night) or fruit and grubs that they have found on the forest floor or in Lidl.
They can also be seen on the Outer Ring Road at all hours in athletic costume, trailing indefatigable hybrid canines and laughing unto themselves. Tragically, some of them turn up weekly for the long-handicap competition.
You can take it from me that Rory’s drives wouldn’t be as impressive if he had to listen to stuff about Compostela on the tee.
Yet, the pilgrims will attest to the perceived benefits of their 100kms. Medical science, whose achievements pale in contrast to the deeds of St James, might suggest that there is great good to be had from exercise and dieting or that a break from routine may rejuvenate (marginally) the occasional wrinkly.
That is clearly not the answer. The pilgrims will tell you, without excreting any details, that their experience on The Way of St James has meant far, far more.
It’s very puzzling; this intangible human condition.