In a previous post I wrote “. . . I don’t know much about God, but I know where He lives.”
In this country, so infused with medieval Roman Catholicism, He seems almost everywhere. I interrupted my westward progress to walk back from Puente la Reina to visit Sta. Maria de Eunate, which had been closed when I passed it the previous day.
A pilgrimage church, possibly Templar, dating from some time in the 12th century, it is surrounded by an unusual colonnade of 32 arches. The plan is an irregular octagon — three long sides, five short sides — with a semicircular apse.
Wonderful corbels and capitals remind us that evil is more interesting than good, and that unsaved mortals are grotesque, only a bit higher than the animals. He lives here.
Where She Lives
From Roncevalles I walked through the Sorginaritzaga oak forest, the home of the Sorginak, Basque priestesses of the Goddess Mari — no relation to Mary.
We know that Mariolatry, the cult of the Virgin, began in the 12th and 13th centuries as an attempt to address the imbalance between animus and anima, or, less charitably, to co-opt the appeal of the witch, and preserve male domination. Catholic attempts to suppress the Sorginak began at least with the Inquisition, and continued through the nineteenth century.
Passing through the village of Arequeta, I came upon the Abbey of Eskirotz and Ilarratz.
Neill le Roux arrived several years ago from South Africa to walk the Camino. His Spanish was so bad, he told us, that in the airport in Madrid they sold him a ticket to Palermo instead of Pamplona. When he got back to Madrid a week later, he asked a Spanish girl for help. Later they were married, had a daughter, and needed a house. He tried to rent from the Catholic Church a house attached to the Abbey. The Bishop would not rent, but he would sell, but only if Neill bought the church also. The restoration of this church has become his personal mission.
The sixteenth century altar was robbed and vandalized. Behind, Neill discovered a thirteenth century altar, and behind that, the most remarkable painting.
At the upper left and right, sun symbols, or possibly sun and moon; within a grid, finger painted dots, possibly each representing a person. The shells are not the familiar scallop shells of Santiago, but conch shells, otherwise unknown in Christian iconography. All of this is in a Catholic church, but a church needing to communicate with a pagan peasant population.
Do the pagans become Catholic, or do the Catholics become pagan? It is very reminiscent of the Mayan followers of the Talking Cross that Toni and I discovered in the Yucatan.
This is a holy place. Das ewig weibliche zieht uns hinan.
My Camino with Toni 
Great post, Chris. Holiness is all around if we look with an open heart and mind. The hidden painting is so special, especially because it is now uncovered to connect with 21st century pilgrims. Buen viaje.
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Interesting info, Chris. Thanks . Still with you, Roz
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Way cool.
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P.S. My first thought about the dots in the grid was also that they might represent people. Now I also wonder if they might represent stars in the sky. (Maybe an anthropologist or church-art historian would know.)
An aside – not exactly apropos of nothing, but a separate subject. What I just said reminded me that I heard part of ‘And I Love Her’ (by The Beatles) today, which contains my all-time favorite passage out of all Beatles music: “Bright are the stars that shine. Dark is the sky.” (Simple but meaningful minimalist perfection that reminds me of Haiku.) This in turn reminds me of something I wondered yesterday: do many peregrinos these days take music along on El Camino to have available if only occasionally – an ipod for ex – or does it tend to depend on the nature of a person’s journey. Just something I wondered. It might seem like an intrusion of modernity that would detract from El Camino (including socially), but personally I wouldn’t assume so. On the one hand, I hate to think of how much some folks miss these days because of the distraction of modern tech, but on the other hand, music is a universal language & it can be a very personal thing. (Universal & solitary in a way.) Sometimes, one never knows how meaningful it might be to someone.
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Thanks for sharing your knowledge, experience and especially your heart Chris.
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Wonderful Chris! The alter photo is beautiful and looks similar to the Byzantine ruins in Cappadocia Turkey
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Este Es un lugar santo. I am still practicing my Spanish. How exciting to see the picture behind the second altar. Do you have any idea of when it was painted? You will never get to Santiago if you keep retracing your steps. Have fun.
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Neill believed it is from the 13th century, which would seem very late for this sort of syncretism if you think in terms of France (say, roughly contemporary with Chartres) but Navarre foothills of the Pyrenees were truly a back woods.
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