I love this place… when I arrived in Bilbao at the beginning of the week I briefly visited, but didn’t really get it, rather insight came only on my return a week later
pouring rain outside
lighting a candle, sitting alone with my thoughts and fears
For of course it is a shrine for the Virgin Mary, the universal mother who tends to our sorrows
a very powerful sense of opening, of grace flowing down from above, this clear Crown Chakra energy, and also as it is the mother energy, something welling up from the earth, rooted below
a feeling similar to meeting Amma in her Ashram
‘be still’ with her beauty and tranquility
From the internet:
“The legend goes that, some time between the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, a shepherd stumbled across a wooden statue of the Virgin Mary on Mount Artagan. It appeared on a holm oak tree as if it had sprouted out of the earth. As such, local people wanted to find a suitable place to build a church to venerate the miraculous image. However, according to the legend, when they tried to move it, the carving took root in the soil and a mysterious voice exclaimed “Bego oina!” or “Be still!”. Thus, the church had to be built right there, and the image, ever since known as Begoña, became the patron saint of Biscay and amatxu (meaning mother in Basque) to the people of Biscay. On this exact point today stands the Gothic Basilica of Our Lady of Begoña—built in the early sixteenth century on the site of the old wooden church—which has loomed over the city of Bilbao”
I love churches! I wouldn’t deem myself a Christian, which i’m not sure is either a help or a hinderance to my affection!
I always think of churches as being places of stone of light and through the stained glass windows of colour
It’s the ancient nature, centuries of congealed worship, resonant soul spaces, a connection to our ancestors, a yearning for something greater… the beyond
I associate churches with silence
which is true for both small british country churches and vast cathedrals… its the still, personal, inner movements I appreciate
yet on this holiday I also got to know church as a place of music… for of course they are also social spaces of throng… ha, and even of song
congregations of hubbub
I was in a 17th century Jesuit church in Santander, just after the mass, myself alone, sitting in a pew
then the organist decides it’s time to practice, a huge roiling wall of sound, tumbling down from above
an astonishing acoustic amphitheatre of ALL ENGULFING music. Baroque baby!
