Put Down Your Stone

At the highest point of the Camino in Spain, upon the plateau of Monte Irago, is a cross.

This cross, called Cruz de Ferro (literally, “iron cross”) is a tall oak post with a small iron cross attached to the top. All around the cross is a large pile of stones.

Pilgrims have been laying a stone at Cruz de Ferro for centuries.

I’m no different. I’m bringing a stone. I collected it during my inadvertent Camino day, back in August. On that day, my friend Paul and I sort of accidentally walked about 25 km.

Along the way, we passed near a number of tall, crumbly cliffs. On a whim, I grabbed a small stone from the base of one. I’m glad I did.

Today, as part of our continuing training, I walked a mere 18km, and Francine walked 16km. Full packs.

It was a good walk, but the aftermath has been less than pleasant. Our feet hurt, and we’re crabby. Some days are like that. Some days you forget to put down that stone you’re carrying, the one that’s weighing you down.

When asked why angels could fly, G.K. Chesterton replied, “because they take themselves so lightly.”

Perhaps for us to fly, we need to put down those stones we carry, the ones we keep collecting.

Next Saturday, I walk 20km. The Saturday after that, 25.

A few weeks later, I’ll be walking on the Camino. We should get to Cruz de Ferro sometime in the last week of April, at which point I will lay down my stone, as have countless pilgrims before me.

Lord, may this stone, a symbol of my efforts on the pilgrimage that I lay at the foot of the cross of the Saviour, one day weigh the balance in favour of my good deeds when the deeds of my life are judged. Let it be so.

(traditional pilgrim’s prayer at Cruz de Ferro)