An acorn along the roadside

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.

Meaningful Meandering

Our day began with a Metro ride to one of the churches.  Unfortunately, it was closed so we meandered the streets of Rome.  We visited a few sights and found our way to the Pantheon.  This is one of the best preserved of the ancient buildings in Rome.  It has served many purposes throughout its history, now operating as a church.  It is also the final resting place for two former kings and the painter Raphael.

Our next stop was a few blocks away at the Piazza di Novana.  Diane pointed out that one of the features of the winding roads is that one can seldom see what lies ahead.  We walked into the Piazza and were stunned by its beauty and activity.  There was a street fair atmosphere to the piazza.  Vendors and carnival games and even a merry-go-round. The piazzas are gathering places for people and a great place to watch others. We joined in the fun, having lunch and watching the people around us.





After spending time in the piazza and a trip to the Museum of Rome, we walked to another piazza, the Piazza of Spagna.  What struck me most here was the international feel of the area.  In the piazza there was a bagpiper playing for the crowds.  Then we walked up the 132 stairs (Diane counted) brought from Spain.  At the top of the stairs is the Trinita dei Monti church, a primarily French speaking church.  They were just beginning mass there, so we sat and enjoyed the worship.  Unlike another church where we worshiped, this one was very welcoming.  We both felt very at home, in spite of the language differences.  The music and singing were wonderful, led by the monks and nuns in the church.  When it came time for the passing of the peace, the monks and nuns walked through the crowd with warm hospitality.  Such a welcoming spirit truly makes a difference.  I was very touched by the service and was glad that we arrived when we did.

After worship we returned to the hotel for a bit and then found a little restaurant around the corner for an excellent dinner.  Another fine day in Italy.

Peace, my friends.

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!