Ok, I could tell you about visiting the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel. But, I am in one of those playful moods, so this is what I have to share for today. The story of Padre Luigi:
Padre Luigi had finished his seminary studies and was the priest at a small church north of Rome. It was a great place to be and Padre Luigi loved the people. But, all of his colleagues were establishing grand cathedrals. Their churches were growing in large numbers. Much of it was due to the fact that his colleagues had made pilgrimages to the Holy Land where they had obtained sacred items to bring back to their churches. One church had pieces of the original cross. Another had pieces of the original manger. These were displayed prominently in the front of the church and people traveled for miles away to view these sacred articles. The churches grew as members spoke of the holy items their church possessed. Padre Luigi felt that he needed to obtain a sacred object for his church. The members were quite pleased with things as they were and did not feel it necessary to have a sacred object, but Padre Luigi insisted.
So Padre Luigi made the trip to the Holy Land. He decided to begin backwards, starting in Jerusalem, the site of the crucifixion. Much to his consternation, no sacred objects remained. The pieces of the cross had all been taken. Items from the Upper Room...gone. Cloaks laid on the ground on Palm Sunday...all taken by other pilgrims.
So Padre Luigi continued backward. He went to other places mentioned in the gospels, but each time the results were the same. No sacred objects to be found,. His last stop was Bethlehem, the place of Jesus' birth. As he searched for potential items to bring back to his congregation, the answers were the same. Nothing remained. Padre Luigi was very sad. He sat on a stump and began to weep. What a disappointment it would be to return home empty handed.
For days he sat on that stump in disappontment. But as he sat there, he noticed something unusual. The women of the village were digging beneath some of the trees. When he inquired about this, they told him that it was custom that when a birth occured in the village, they always buried the placenta under a tree. The tree was associated with the child that was born. Long after a child had grown, and perhaps moved to another village, mothers would sit beneath the trees and remember the children of the village.
Padre Luigi inquired about the stump upon which he had been sitting. One of the mothers explained that the tree had been planted by a carpenter and his wife who soon thereafter moved away. The tree had grown strong for many years providing shade and relief for villagers and sojourners alike. Padre Luigi asked for and received permission from the village elders to remove the portion of the tree that had fallen.
He had this tree transported to the village where he lived. From the tree, local carpenters fashioned an altar that was placed in the church where Padre Luigi served. He told the story of where the tree had come and how it had come about and the possibility that it might be something very sacred. No one knew for certain. But then again, no one was sure that it wasn't. And so that little church cherished their altar and the possibility that it might have some connection to the child of Mary and Joseph.
But, of course, only the largest portions of the tree were used in making the altar. The smaller branches and acorns were set aside and never used.
Many years later, a traveler came upon an acorn. Who knows whether or not it might have some ties to that tree from Bethlehem. But as he walked along the road, he put that acorn in his pocket and decided to bring it home to his friends and place it upon the altar. It is a sacred object. It isn't a piece of the manger, or a part of the cross, or a hem of a garment worn by the Master, but it is holy...and worthy...and filled with mystery...just like us all.
Peace, my friends.
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