|  | 
          
            |  |  
            |  |  
            |  |  
            | Comment on this report, or find other reports. |  
            |  |  
            | Our Mystery Worshippers are volunteers who warm church pews for us around the world. If you'd like to become a Mystery Worshipper, start here. |  
            |  |  
            | Find out how to reproduce this report in your church magazine or website. |  |  | 
            
                | 1889: Iglesia 
                  de Santiago, Triacastela, Lugo, Spain |  
              |  |  
              |  |  
              |  |  
                | Mystery Worshipper: 
                  Augustine the Aleut. The church: 
                  Iglesia de Santiago (Church of St James), Triacastela, Lugo, 
                  Spain.
 Denomination: 
                  Roman Catholic, Diocese 
                  of Lugo.
 The building: 
                  The apse is probably Romanesque, but the rest of the church 
                  dates largely from the 18th century. The tower displays the 
                  three castles that appear on the village's coat of arms. The 
                  interior features a retablo over the main altar, and two side 
                  retablos, presumably formerly over side altars. The aisle between 
                  the pews is very broad; seating is almost an afterthought.
 The church: 
                  A sagrario (tabernacle) dating from the 15th century is now 
                  in Compostela's Museo das Peregrinacións.
 The neighbourhood: 
                  Triacastela marks the end of the most mountainous section of 
                  the pilgrimage road. Nothing remains of the three castles that 
                  gave the village its name. At the east end of this winding village, 
                  strung out along the Camino like many other pueblos of the region, 
                  the church is in a walled compound with cemetery, to the left 
                  and down a lane. Triacastela to Sarria via Samos is likely one 
                  of the finest walks on the planet  much like Middle Earth 
                  on a good day. The Benedictines of Samos, however, are a bunch 
                  of old coots in a huge and sterile mock-baroque church, redone 
                  when the monastery was rebuilt in Franco's time. It's best to 
                  just enjoy the walk.
 The cast: 
                  Augusto Losada Lopez is the name I have in my notes.
 The date & time: 
                  Wednesday, 14 October 2009, 7.00pm.
 
 What was the name of the service?
 Pilgrims' Mass.
 
 How full was the building?
 There were 18 in the small country church's single nave which 
                  could hold about 30 or so. Unlike most Camino churches, the 
                  majority of the congregation were pilgrims with perhaps only 
                  two or three locals.
 
 Did anyone welcome you personally?
 I recognised several of the pilgrims from along the way, including 
                  two older Spanish couples, who managed to dress very formally 
                  and respectably out of their backpacks after a day of slugging 
                  over the hills of Lugo province.
 
 Was your pew comfortable?
 The pew was likely handmade locally, and by a carpenter sensitive 
                  to the likelihood that it would be occupied for long stretches. 
                  The bench was wide and the back at a most comfortable height, 
                  to permit if not to encourage lounging during long sermons.
 
 How would you describe the pre-service
atmosphere?
 Most of the pilgrims there knew each other by sight from the exhausting hilly walk and repeated climbs out of O'Cebreiro and Vega de Valcarce.
 
 What were the exact opening words of the
service?
 The customary sign of the cross in Spanish.
 
 What books did the congregation use during the
service?
 None, as is the custom.
 
 What musical instruments were played?
 None.
 
 
  
 Did anything distract you?
 I was seated on the gospel side, about four rows from the front, 
                  and had a spooky side-altar retablo to my right that depicted 
                  a female saint about to take off into the ether. Then there 
                  was the cell phone – read on!
 
 Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or
what?
 It was the usual novus ordo mass, overlaid with wandering commentary 
                  and discussion from the priest. He was one of the very few who 
                  deviated in any way from the set text, and addressed himself 
                  specifically to pilgrims. Several were singled out to provide 
                  readings, and we heard the epistle in Portuguese, German, French 
                  and Italian, as well as in Spanish.
 
 Exactly how long was the sermon?
 12 minutes.
 
 On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher?
 3 for coherence, 10 for relevance to the congregation. On average, 
                  5.
 
 In a nutshell, what was the sermon
about?
 Pilgrimage: to walk in shadows so that we learn to walk in light. 
                  To see signs of humanity in our mistakes. To believe in love, 
                  not in fear. To believe freely. To fall so that we learn to 
                  rise. To see the signs around us and seek signs and directions 
                  from angels. To see angels where we do not expect to or want 
                  to. Finally, to seek help all the way along the road, so that 
                  we can learn to help others.
 
 Which part of the service was like being in
heaven?
 A strong feeling of comradeship and community, and enjoying the rest after a long day through rolling countryside.
 
 And which part was like 
                  being in... er... the other place?
 The priest had led us all into a strong feeling of community 
                  through his words. He continued with the mass as usual, with 
                  the offertory, sursum corda and preface, sanctus and eucharistic 
                  prayer. But then, as he paused at the most solemn moment to 
                  pronounce the words of consecration, a cell phone rang. And 
                  rang. And rang! The priest looked around, hoping that the owner 
                  would turn it off. An Austrian pilgrim, sitting up front, was 
                  the miscreant, but the man was too embarrassed to own up to 
                  it. And so he let the cursed instrument continue to ring away 
                  from inside his pack. It kept on ringing. Eventually a Brazilian 
                  pilgrim got up, took the chirping pack, and walked it to the 
                  back of the church, where she athletically flung it through 
                  the open door. Blushing furiously, the Austrian ran out of the 
                  church to rescue it. A Spanish pilgrim remarked, audibly enough, 
                  that the devil had been cast from the temple. It has since been 
                  suggested to me that the devil can also be cast out of a cell 
                  phone by immersion in the holy water stoup. Alas, a precious 
                  moment and a rare mood had been broken and could not be recaptured.
 
 What happened when you 
                  hung around after the service looking lost?
 Not much. As I left, the Spaniards, ever proper, and I made 
                  eye contact. The Austrian pilgrim avoided us all. Two dashing 
                  Brazilian pilgrims laughed at the insanity of it all and invited 
                  me to dinner.
 
 How would you describe the after-service
coffee?
 None, as usual, so I went with the Brazilians to a local restaurant 
                  and enjoyed some goat in port sauce (quite tasty). A very pleasant 
                  evening, even if I am still not certain if we had a language 
                  in common.
 
 How would you feel about making this church your regular (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
 5  While I liked the scale of the little building, the 
                  priest's intensity would likely wear on me after a while, but 
                  I would rate the service (aside from the cell phone) a 9/10, 
                  maybe even a 10/10.
 
 Did the service make you feel glad to be a
Christian?
 The priest's intense desire that we focus on the spiritual and human rewards of pilgrimage and companionship amid sacrifice helped me remember that this was not a random stroll for one own's amusement.
 
 What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time?
 How the devil, in the form of a cell phone, had been cast from 
                  the temple. Ever since then, I religiously turn mine off as 
                  I enter a church.
 
 More Camino reports
 |  |  | 
          
            |  |  
            |  |  
            |  |  
            | We rely on voluntary donations to stay online. If you're a regular visitor to Ship of Fools, please consider supporting us. |  
            |  |  
            |  |  
            |  |  
            | The Mystery Pilgrim |  
            |  |  
            | One of our most seasoned reporters makes the Camino pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Read here. |  
            |  |  
            |  |  
            |  |  
            | London churches |  
            |  |  
            | Read reports from 70 London churches, visited by a small army of Mystery Worshippers on one single Sunday. Read here. |  
            |  |  |  |  |  |