I’ve just returned from my second hike of the Camino de Santiago in Spain. I had such fond memories of my first trip in 2019, I wanted to go back since the day I returned. On the first trip I had gone not knowing anyone on the trip who then became my friends. This time I wanted to return to show friends the beauty and romance of the Spanish landscape and its people.
One thing I missed on my first trip had become a quest. Over twenty years ago, I began reading books and poems by St. John of the Cross. St. John of the Cross was born in 1542 in a Spanish town close to Ávila. In 1567 he was ordained a priest and worked with Teresa of Ávila to reform the Carmelite order to bring it back to its primitive roots.
His most familiar poem, Dark Night, describes how God purifies the soul passively and brings the theological life to perfection. There are two fundamental conditions in the spiritual process. There is the painful passage through the dark night and then the unspeakable joy of encountering God. I experienced that “dark night” on my first Camino in 2019 when I was walking the longest day of 18 miles. It wasn’t so much the physicality of the walking that became the dark night, but it was my inability to keep my mind occupied. It was only when I concentrated on Christ that I was able to overcome the darkness.
St. John was noted for his writings and teachings, but he also produced a small drawing of The Crucifixion around 1575 when he had a vision at the Monastery of the Incarnation in Ávila. We were unable to go to the Monastery on my trip in 2019 but it became an obsession of mine to see this small drawing.
My quest was realized this year. This sketch was revolutionary that anyone could claim to be so united with God that he would view the crucifixion from God’s perspective. This tiny drawing spurred a painting by Salvador Dali in 1951 that is in the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum in Glasgow.
My quest is fulfilled. The drawing is breath-taking.
Blessings, my friend,
Agatha