Building upon the Past

Day two in Italy and we are off and running.  We begin with a trip on the Metro, Rome's subway system.  It is pretty easy to navigate and we bought a one week unlimited fare so we can use this whenever we need.  Our trip today takes us downtown to the San Clemente Church.  The AAA guidebook highly recommended this and they were right.

It took a little walking to find the church as it is not listed on the maps handed out by the hotels.  It is not one of the major basilicas.  San Clemente, however, dates back to the 12th Century and the interior features some incredible frescoes and beautiful marble that is so typical of churches in this area.  But, one of the things that distinguishes this church from others is that they discovered a hole that led down into an unknown portion of the church.  The current building was constructed atop the old San Clemente church which dates around the fourth century. 

After they began the excavation of the area, they found worship spaces, old frescoes and other artifacts from the previous congregation.  These are on display as one walks through the lower interior portions of the building.  One of the frescoes had the inscription: "Whosoever may read these letters of my name, let him say, 'God have mercy on unworthy John.'"  History may never reveal the meaning behind this, but it sounds like the makings of a good story.  Unworthy John, your work survives and it is appreciated by an unworthy, but thankful, sojourner. 

Surprisingly, there is another level beneath the 4th Century church.  They discovered that the church was built atop the site of a pre-Christian temple and a home with a running spring.  There was not a lot of information about these two, but they were interesting to tour nonetheless.

I found it interesting to view the various levels and the ways in which the city has grown and changed. Later we learned that it was typical for a building to become unused and for the limestone and marble to be "recycled" in other buildings.  Modern churches may have flooring from previously pagan temples and archways may include the remnants of places of worship.  They just keep building upon the foundations that were there.

I wish I could share some photos from San Clemente, but photography was not permitted.  Even so, as with many places we have visited, I suspect that no picture could begin to do justice to the reality of its beauty.  We bought the tour book, so when we return, I can share the sights that way. 

Our gratitude goes out to the architects of the modern structures and the historical foundations of those who went before, unworthy though we may be.

Peace, friends!

Our First Taste of Italy

It is our first full day in Italy.  We began with mass at the old Santa Maria degli Angeli church just a few blocks from the hotel.  We had visited the church the day before, impressed with its immensity.  The church is dimly lit, so its beauty was mostly hidden in the evening hours.  But in the morning daylight, there was much to behold. 

Like other churches we would visit that day, I found it overwhelming.  There is so much to see.  Paintings stretch from the floors to the ceiling and then continue on the ceilings.  Ornate sculptures fill the room.  Decorative carvings hang in every niche.  I found that even as my eyes scanned the room, I couldn't take it all in.  It made me think that one could worship in this space for years and still see new things each time. 

After we worshiped we walked the streets making our way to Santa Maria Maggiore, arriving at the conclusion of their mass.  This was an even larger structure with chapels larger than many churches.  One of the impressive features of this cathedral is a large area beneath the altar where they have the relics from the manger.  As one kneels at the altar, your focal point is two-fold.  One is to look forward at the altar with the cross.  

 

The other is to look downward toward the manger.

 It creates an image of kneeling in that space between life and death and an opportunity to contemplate one's own journey.

Next, we walked in search of another famous church, only to miss our turn and end up at the Colisseum.  We have signed up for a tour of this later this week and look forward to visiting this immense structure. 

After lunch at a little cafe (I will have to write about the food at some point!) we learned our way around the Metro and rode to a little park area.  Were it not raining this would have been a nice place to meander, but instead we walked to the Museum of the House of Borghese to view the artwork.  Two floors of paintings and sculptures are on display.  The main display is from Lucas Cranach, an artist from the German Reformation and a friend of Martin Luther. 

Dinner was at a nice restaurant a few blocks from our hotel.  The waiter poured on the charm toward my lovely wife.  When it came time for the check he offered to bring my bill and let Signora stay.  Thankfully, she returned with me so we can continue our adventures together.

Cooking Classes

For the past two days, I have been taking a cooking class in New Orleans.  The classes are a mixture of traditional New Orleans cooking, regional history lessons and tasting delights. On the first day, the instructor made gumbo and jambalaya.  I was fascinated that as she cooked, she explained how the various ethnic groups who settled in this area brought something to the recipes.  The Germans brought the sausage, a traditional element to the gumbo.  The French brought what they called the Trinity of ingredients (onions, celery and green peppers) that are found in many of the recipes.  The Italians brought the garlic.  The Africans brought the rice.  The Irish...I think we brought the beer :-)  All of these cultures added something to what became known as the traditional New Orleans style cooking.  A single recipe represents all these cultures and recalls the contributions of one's neighbors and ancestors.

When the meal was complete, the instructor served each of the dishes to us.  As I savored each bite, I thought about the history lesson and the ways in which each ethnic group contributed something special to make the meal such a delight.  If it is true for our cooking, I believe it is true for any gathering of people (a family dinner, a neighborhood, a church, a nation).  Each person brings their unique contributions and flavors that final product.

Peace, my friends!

An Unexpected Chapel

This morning I walked across this little island called Manhattan.  Due east of the flat where I am staying is the United Nations Building.  Like many public buildings these days, there were metal detectors and no liquids allowed inside.  So, I walked the block to finish my bottled water.  Across the street there was a place called "The Church Center."  The front doors said, "entry to the chapel."  Unfortunately, the doors were locked.  So I am left to ponder what the chapel of the Church Center might look like.

Having finished the bottled water, I returned to the United Nations Building.  Inside there was a photographic display of people with AIDS in nine nations around the world.  Downstairs I enjoyed a trip through the gift shop and perusing the book store (I have yet to meet a bookstore I didn't enjoy!) 

The real suprise, however, was back at the entry level.  There at the U.N. is a little chapel.  It was created in the 1960's as a quiet space where people can meditate.  The room is dimly lit with bare white walls along the sides and a mosaic on the front wall.  Other than the chairs where visitors can sit, the only other object is a large rock, serving as the focal point and altar, in the center of the room. 

I sat in one of the chairs and began to think about this particular chapel.  I thought of those who might have sat in that same space...persons of all nations, people of many religions, people of all languages. 

I wanted to add my voice to the petitions spoken in that sacred space by praying for peace in our world.  I thought of refugees who have been displaced from their homeland because of wars.  I thought of images of young boys carrying rifles larger than themselves.  I thought of specific places where violence and revenge continue to be common practices. 

I enjoyed the visit to the United Nations and seeing the flags of the countries of the world flying together in one place.  But most of all, I appreciated the chapel set aside where people from around the world can lift their voice in the hopes for a more peaceful world. 

Peace to you, my friends.

The Art Museums

One of the delights of the past few weeks has been trips to Art Museums.  In San Francisco, Diane and I visited a neighborhood gallery.  Maybe the curator was bored, maybe she took a liking to us...I don't know...but she took us into the basement and showed us some of the works that are not seen by the public.  We viewed Picassos, Chagals, Warhols, Harrings and so many more.  It was a great treat, especially to view these works with Diane's great knowledge and appreciation for art.

Then in D.C. I took a couple of trips to the National Art Gallery.  While there was much to capture my attention, I found myself captivated by the works of Rembrandt.  His dark backgrounds and shadowy figures were mesmerizing.  One picture has inspired me to a short story that I am working on, based upon a peasant figure in the background of one of his works.

Now, here in New York, we visited the Museum of Modern Art.  Again, seeing these works with one so knowledgeable enhances the experience.  From Monet to Matisse, it is fascinating to see the actual works that one typically sees in books.  Among my favorites were Van Gogh's "Starry Night" and Monet's "Water Lillies."  The immensity of Monet's work was overwhelming.  And the beauty and tranquility captured by Van Gogh provided a nice restful moment in the hectic lifestyle of the big city.

The only sad thing is that no photograph can truly do justice to the beauty of the real thing.  Like many things in life, we are left trying to describe the indescribable. 

Beside is a photo of "Starry Night."  From where I stand, there is a lot of beauty in that photo.

Peace, my friends!

The Altar of the Excluded

On a recent trip to Washington D.C. I decided to visit the National Cathedral.  This incredible structure, made from limestone from Bloomington, took more than a century to complete. 

The details of this house of worship were meticulously done.  A brief video tells the story of the chief architect who worked painstakingly on these details.  In one place, he miscalculated by a fraction of an inch.  In such a huge structure, this little detail would not have been noticeable, but it was to the architect.  He concealed the mistake with two small gargoyles, one showing a man tearing his hair out when he realizes his miscalculation and the other showing his moment of insight as he realizes how to fix it.  The whole structure has that feel that no small detail was taken for granted or overlooked.

At the head altar, the railing features a series of hand sewn pew cushions upon which worshipers can kneel.  The railing itself features twelve supporting posts.  These posts represent the twelve disciples.  Each of these posts includes a carving of one of the disciples.  Again, the attention to details was amazing.  Each disciple was unique and included identifying images. 

But, the tour guide pointed out, the post on the far left had been left empty, representing the disciple, Judas, who betrayed Jesus.


With such attention to detail, I was shocked and surprised.  The story of the Last Supper does not exclude Judas.  In fact, Jesus includes him around the table and includes him in that holy meal.  Instead of representing the disciples, at that moment, the railing felt more like the church.  Why does the church exclude when Jesus did not?

Before I left the cathedral, I felt the need to pray at the altar.  I knelt at the far left side of the altar, at the empty post, praying for those who have been and continue to be excluded, not by God, but by the church.