One Handprint

The massive structure stands as a solemn witness of deep reverence. The sacred structure has been built and rebuilt over the centuries. It serves as a central point that connects the present to the past and promises a hopeful future. Its majesty lures millions to cross the threshold and partake of prayerful communion. Many who come, arrive dirty and tired after a long journey filled with quiet contemplation and purposeful abnegation. While those who travel long bring a spirit of sacrifice, all who enter can feel the power of faith, as long as they are willing.

I have entered the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela many times and I have never been disappointed, even though my expectations are extraordinarily high. I have walked in as a tourist who was fascinated by the architecture, textiles, sculptures, and paintings that adorn the holy place. I was intrigued to witness the botafumeiro (thurible) as it wafts the incense through the chapel. And there is no better day than July 25 during  the festival of St. James to visit the cathedral and its city.

I have entered as a believer and visited when fewer pilgrims arrive.Then one has more time for peaceful meditation. Whether the bones of St. James remain at the cathedral, I maintain that the most sacred of all of the places in the cathedral is the handprint that has been worn into the marble pillar after centuries of pilgrims placing their hands on the same spot. It’s an amazing experience to give thanks for a safe arrival and truly feel that human connection that spans hundreds of years, bridges differences of race and religious tradition, and binds together all who are willing to adhere to the promises of St. James.

That single handprint made by millions of hands symbolizes all of the hands that have worked to create what is now the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. I believe that the current structure is the third building built on the same site and that the current cathedral was begun in the late 1000s. I think of all of the workers who labored to build this beautiful place. My heart is full of thanks for their efforts and their constant faith.

I have heard a story about men working to build a temple. While some of them were miserable because all they could perceive was the dirt, sweat and blood, there was one who was always happy regardless of the circumstance. When asked, he replied that he was not carving rock, or laying stone, he was building a temple to his God. When I have been to that site I have always felt the impression that those who labored there, to build that holy place, were like the last man.

When I think of that handprint, I feel connected to the pilgrims, the laborers, and to Him they sought and adored. I am reminded of the greatest hands of all, the ones that were nailed to the cross for us all.