The Dome

Today--my last day in Italy--I visited the Pantheon, a marvel of ancient architecture. Built almost 2,000 years ago, it includes a huge rotunda capped by a coffered, concrete dome with a central, circular opening to the sky (top photo). It is the world's largest unreinforced concrete dome, and is still well-preserved. Since the 7th Century, it has been a Catholic church, known as Santa Maria Rotunda, but it was built long before that.

It is unique and simply amazing!

The area around the Pantheon is a pleasant one to stroll about. I had lunch (panini) sitting on the steps of the fountain in the piazza, watching people from literally all over the world and listening to the street musicians--some of whom were quite good. The narrow, winding, cobblestone streets spreading from the piazza are filled with shops, cafes, and restaurants of various scales.

I made my way over to the Church of St. Ignatius of Loyola, a Baroque church built in the 17th Century. I was stuck by the amount of marble in this church, and the number and elegance of its side altars.

After that I walked over to the Piazza del Quirinale, which includes the palace for the president of Italy, and the Scuderie del Quirinale museum, which is currently featuring a very popular Caravaggio exhibit. Unfortunately, I was not able to go in; advance tickets are sold out, and daily admission requires very long waits in line. Several hundred people were waiting in line outside the museum when I went by.

The Fountain of Trevi is nearby, so I went over to flip in a coin. On the long walk back to Sant' Anselmo, I passed by the imposing Monument to Vittorio Emanuele II (the first king of a unified Italy). It is so large that it can be seen from many vantage points in Rome (second photo).

All in all, a good day. During my visit, I have covered quite a bit of Rome on foot (yesterday, I walked back from the Pope's General Audience at St. Peter's along the Tiber River to Sant'Anselmo).

Incidentally, near the Trevi Fountain, I saw a young man wearing a Toledo Mud Hens T-shirt. Naturally, I inquired about it. He is from Luckey, Ohio, about 20 miles north of my hometown of Findlay! We reminisced briefly about old Ned Skeldon Stadium, and then went our separate ways, an ocean apart (and then some) from Northwest Ohio.

Tomorrow (Friday), I take the train back to Einsiedeln in Switzerland, where I will be the majority of my time in Europe. I am looking forward to it!

Stickers

The following piece of whimsy has absolutely nothing to do with my trip. It is provided purely for amusement and/or consternation. It is a short rant of mine from last summer's Iowa Summer Writing Festival, composed during a "fast-writing" exercise. I was reminded of it during a conversation with a monk here at Sant' Anselmo about the curious (to me) universal practice of placing stickers on fruit. It led to the observation that here in Europe, people peel and pare fruit before eating it. It is not eaten out of hand, skin and all, so there's no need to remove the sticker.

Peeling fruit is just one of many differences in daily life to be experienced in Europe (at least in Itay), such as:

-- Coffee. You drink it from a bowl if it's weak, and from something resembling a shot glass if it's strong.

-- Breakfast. It is likely to include cold cuts and cereal with chocolate chips.

-- Afternoons. If you need to conduct business between noon and 3 p.m., good luck. Many places--even tourist shops--close for siesta.

-- Dinner. Eaten around 8 p.m., at the earliest.

-- Toilets. They may or may not have seats.

-- Weddings (this pertains to Italy). Here, I am told, Catholics are more likely to affiliate themselves with movements rather than parishes. Consequently, people get married wherever they like. Since Rome is filled with beautiful, old churches, if you walk down a street on any particular day, chances are you'll encounter a wedding. I must have seen two dozen of them in my week here in Rome. Big groups of people milling about, all dressed up, taking pictures, etc. It almost seems as though people drive around until they see a church, and say, "Hey, let's stop and have a wedding!"

Anyway, enough of that. My rant on fruit stickers, which (hopefully) provides some food for thought about the struggle to live in the sacrament of the present moment:

Why is there a sticker on my apple? It is so annoying. I wonder whose idea it was to begin putting those little white stickers on each individual piece of fruit?

It gets in the way and irritates me to no end.

They all have them now--have you ever noticed? Oranges and bananas. But those aren’t the worst. Especially irritating are those you want to eat out of hand, skin and all--apples, pears, especially peaches.

I reach my hand into the fruit bin, and before I can take a bite, I have to stop and peel the thing off. And it’s never easy. My fingernail attempts to dig in between the sticker and skin of the fruit, but it won’t lift off! It seems like I spend five minutes with it, working all the angles. There’s a little arrow on one tip, but that, it seems, is just there to toy with you.

It won’t come off! So I flip it back into the bin and grab another. Same thing. OK, last one. This time, I really scrape at it, taking off part of the skin. Is this really necessary? And there’s this gluey film left behind. Is that even safe to consume? What is it? And it won’t wash off under the faucet--it just becomes gummier. So I grab a knife and carve it out, which I should have done from the beginning.

It’s maddening. There’s no point to it. It’s not like they contain essential or useful information. Believe me, I’ve checked. Braeburn, Red Delicious. Dole. USA. Some 4-digit number. Produce of New Zealand. Who cares?

Someone told me it’s for the cashier at checkout time. Well, he or she doesn’t have to eat it--I’m the one who bought the thing!

And not only does this annoy me to no end, but I have to tell everyone about it when I finally sit down at the table with everyone else. I’m still polishing, rubbing, caressing, examining, and I proclaim to anyone and everyone: “Whoever came up with the idea of putting stickers on each piece of fruit should be put away. If God thought they needed stickers, he would have put them on himself.”

No one laughs, or agrees, really, although they aren’t exactly being indifferent. It’s just something that has to be allowed to get out of the way before we all sit down to eat and talk about our days. Just like a sticker. It’s something in the way that needs to be taken care of before we can do what we really want to do.

Perhaps that’s why it bothers me so much. Because it’s there, and I don’t want it to be. It’s in the way.

I wonder now, though, whether it’s really in the way, or if I let it get in the way. It’s just a sticker, and yet it bugs me, sticks me this way and that. I can’t enjoy the fruit until it’s out of the way, but once it is, all I talk about is having had to remove the thing.

So who is in the way, the sticker or me? Is there a difference really?

I wonder now, how often I get in the way of myself instead of simply enjoying the fruit.

I mean really. It’s a sticker.

Witness to Grace

"If your mission is to be truly effective -- if the words you proclaim
are to touch hearts, engage people's freedom
and change their lives -- you must draw them into an encounter
with persons and communities who witness
to the grace of Christ by their faith and their lives."

Pope Benedict XVI
Comments to Catholic media
General Audience, St. Peter's Square

Clinging to the Rock

When I was a child, I loved to draw mountains carved throughout with tunnels and caves. My secret passageways weren't just holes in the ground, though. They were meant to be lived in, and everything was provided to make that possible, even preferable. They were underground palaces.

I was reminded of this during my two-day visit to Sacro Speco (Sacred Cave) about an hour from Rome. The beautiful Monastery of St. Benedict--well over 1,000 years old--is carved into the side of a mountain there. It was constructed over the cave where a young St. Benedict lived as a hermit for three years before he began establishing monastic communities as they have come to be known. It was from this rock-hewn cradle that the Benedictine Order was born.

Petrarch described Sacro Speco as "the threshold of Paradise," and it is easy to undersand why, and what drew St. Benedict there. It looks over a tree-filled valley at the bottom of which the Anio River runs fast and clear over the rocks. There's even a waterfall. The sound of the rushing water rises up and caresses the mountainside 24 hours a day. At night, I kept my window open to breathe in the cool mountain air and listen to the running water. I slept like a baby!

Below and to the right of Sacro Speco is the Monastery of St. Scholastica, which I also briefly visited, and the town of Subiaco, which comes from the Latin term Sublaquem (below the lakes). The name comes from three artificial lakes created in the valley by the Emperor Nero in the 1st Century (and which no longer exist). Incidentally, I learned that the first printing press in Italy was at St. Scholastica in the 15th Century.

Anyway, back to the "cave." There are five monks living at Sacro Speco right now, all from different countries. The monastery and church are well-preserved because they are owned by the state. I arrived on Sunday afternoon, when a 23-year-old intern (from Missouri) who works at the monastery was in Rome and came to Sant' Anselmo to pick me up. Together, we took the Rome metrobus (subway) to a bus station, and from there got on a bus to Subiaco. (This was a blessing, as I am still a little intimidated by the public transporation system here.) At the Subiaco bus station--at the bottom of the mountain--the monastery's prior, Fr. Luigi, came down in a car to take us up.

After getting settled, the intern (Andy) showed me around, and gave me a tour of the church. I was instantly awestruck. Everything is beautiful and yet very humble; overwhelming yet intimate. The church is hollowed out of the mountain in an irregular pattern and on several levels (like my caves!) Practically every surface is adorned with colorful frescoes that are hundreds of years old. Most date to medieval times, and each highly symbolic rendering tells a specific story in the life of Christ or in the lives of the saints, particularly St. Benedict. The cave's walls breathe prayer in a way that wraps you in them and makes you feel part of them rather than below them or held at an adoring distance. It is at once very sacred and very human, and therefore honest.

I wish I could post photos of the church's interior, but camera flashes are not allowed. Some frescoes have been damaged over the years by light, humidity, and human touch. If you're interested, I recommend you view some of them using the link I provided in the previous post. Still, that fails to provide the "full effect."

Nestled deep in the Lower Church is what remains of the opening of St. Benedict's cave, lit by 12 lamps representing the monasteries he founded. It is a place of profound peace, and I could not help but think of the life that has flowed from this "Rock" for 1,500 years. That includes the prayer and work of the five monks living at Sacro Speco, but also that of every monk throughout the world in the history of the Benedictine Order that has profoundly influenced not only Christianity but Western civilization.

One night, after Vespers and dinner (the food is outstanding here, too), I walked alone into the courtyard after a brief rainstorm. For some reason, I was drawn to a raised bed of roses, where I spotted at least a dozen snails. This struck me as funny because the dinner conversation (in Italian, so translated by Andy into English for me) had included the topic of snails. For at least 20 minutes, I stood and watched the snails, slowly doing what snails do, plugging away through the damp earth or clinging to the wet rocks, largely unnoticed.

At that moment, at least for me, and given the historic nature of my surroundings, I was struck by the myserious, plodding, clinging virtue of perseverance which even death cannot overtake. Over the years, the monks of Sacro Speco have been buried within the mountain--literally becoming part of a rock that still pours forth life 1,500 years after the time of St. Benedict.

Originally, I was only going to stay at Sacro Speco one night. I ended up staying an extra day. I did not realize until I arrived how much I needed the rest and peace the place offered.

On the second day, the other intern (Eli, from Guatemala) and I hiked down to the valley and the Anio River to the waterfall, which I have included a picture of. It speaks for itself. (Then we had to hike back UP the hill!)

On Tuesday, I ran into some good fortune, or providence, whichever you prefer. I was going to head back to Rome on my own this time via the bus and subway (as I said, still a little daunting to me). However, a group from Rome's Lay Centre (mostly Americans from New Jersey) had arrived for a tour. The priest traveling with the group is a Benedictine monk and the prior of Sant' Anselmo where I have been staying in Rome -- Fr. Elias (his home monastery is also in New Jersey). There was extra room on the group's bus, so I was offered a ride back to Rome, which I accepted. First though, the group stopped for lunch (pasta and lamb!) at the excellent restaurant/hotel run by St. Scholastica. No one would let me pay even for an after-dinner cup of coffee!

On Wednesday, the group's leader told me, they are all going to the Pope's general audience at St. Peter's. They have an extra ticket, and asked me to join them--so tomorrow it's off to the Vatican!

Gelato!

One of the best things about Italy! Good thing I don't live here. It would be my undoing. Churches and gelato shops--I'm hitting them all! And something seems awfully right about that--for now!

Today included a long hike down the Via Appia Antiqua(Appian Way). Stops along the way included The Church of Domine Quo Vadis (where, tradition holds St. Peter met Christ while fleeing persecution in Rome and turned back, and which contains some nice frescoes), the Church of San Cesareo in Palatio, and the Catacombes of San Callisto, featuring some of the earliest and most splendid frescoes from the world of Christian art. (Sorry, no photography allowed).

Lunch over a plate of spaghetti within a little restaurant tucked into the ancient road's wall and run by an elderly Italian couple completed the day. Back to Sant' Anselmo in plenty of time for rest, Vespers, dinner, and a walk with Fr. Paul (yes, to a gelato shop!).

Sunday I'm headed to Sacro Speco, about an hour from Rome, for a day or so. It should be a real treat. It's where St. Benedict lived in a cave for three years before establishing his monasteries. I'm told the frescoes there are plentiful and stunning. If you'd like a peek, try the link below. While there, I may be incommunicado for a day or two.

http://www.paradoxplace.com/Perspectives/Rome%20&%20Central%20Italy/Subiaco/Subiaco.htm

Arches

I'm not sure why, but I love arches, especially old ones. There is something elegant and at the same time reassuring about them.

These arches are along the Clivo di Scauro, an ancient Roman street between Palantine and Celio hills. Not too far away are the famous landmarks many associate with ancient Rome: The Colosseum, the Roman Forum, and the Arch of Constantine.

These arches buttress the walls of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, a basilica dating to the 4th Century and dedicated to the memory of two Roman soldiers who were martyred. St. Paul of the Cross is buried here.

The arches, I believe, were added in medieval times, except for the biggest one, which is older (and which I cut off while photographing!)

Roma and the Rock

Greetings from Rome!

As many of you know, I am spending most of the summer in Europe. I left Saint Meinrad on Monday, spent a day at our mother abbey of Einsiedeln in Switzerland, then took the train to Rome. I will be here until June 4, then return to Einsiedeln, where I will be for the majority of my time in Europe. This blog will be an unofficial travel log of sorts, I suppose, for any who are interested.

I am still a little travel weary -- wanting to sleep when it is daylight here and night at home, and staying awake when it is night here and daytime at home -- but I am slowly adjusting. It's also hard to sleep when everything is so new and exciting!

I've been to Italy and Rome before, but never on my own, and in the context of my monastic vocation. The last time I was here was in 2006 shortly before coming to the monastery. I was on pilgrimage with my mother and a group from my home parish of St. Michael's in Findlay, Ohio. At that time,I was seriously discerning the monastic life and just about ready to make the leap -- though I wasn't quite sure where or how. And now I am here as a monk of Saint Meinrad! It is a wonderful opportunity to futher solidify and deepen my vocation as I prepare (God willing) to make solemn vows in January 2011. I am visiting many monasteries and monks this summer, and praying and living with them is like seeing everything again from the inside of my call!

While in Rome, I am staying at Sant' Anselmo (pictured above), a Benedictine house of studies where a good number of student monks from around the world live and pray together while going to school. Among those currently living here are two monks of Saint Meinrad -- Fr. Ephrem (a teacher) and Fr. Paul (a student). It is good to see them both. Also here is Abbot Primate Notker Wolf, who heads the Benedictine Confederation of Congregations, as elected by the Congress of Abbots worldwide.

The highlight of the summer, of course, is Einsiedeln, the abbey in Switzerland from which Saint Meinrad was founded in 1854. However, I only stopped there for about 24 hours before coming to Italy for a "holiday" of sorts, and to visit with my confreres. Later, I hope to have more to say about Einsiedeln. I must say, though, that in my short time at Einsiedeln (which is visually stunning!), all the monks there displayed the highest degree of Benedictine hospitality. I was warmly welcomed, though many don't speak English, and I don't speak German. The liturgy there is entirely in German or Latin, and is quite beautiful to be a part of, even if I can't fully participate. Still, it's amazing how much people of different tongues can communicate person-to-person if they really want to!

Even in the few days I've been here, I have picked up a few German, and now Italian, words and phrases--particulary as it applies to the liturgy. When I return to Einsiedeln, one of the monks may spend some time teaching me a little more German.

The 9-hour train ride from Einsiedeln (via Zurich) to Rome (via Milan) was wonderful (though I did miss my connection in Milan and had to find another train). I am now a big fan of rail travel! The trains here are amazing -- you can go anywhere, and they're relatively clean, roomy, quiet, and comfortable. For four hours, my train wound through mountain passes of the Alps -- almost every mile a picture-perfect postcard!

On Thursday, my first full day in Rome, I set out on foot (I needed to stay off of planes, trains, and buses for a while, at least). I explored the Trastevere district of Rome directly across the Tiber River from Sant' Anselmo. It is comprised of many winding, narrow, cobblestone streets filled with shops and restaurants. My primary destination was S. Maria in Trastevere, one of the oldest churches in Rome, which was quite impressive. I also stopped at the basilicas of S. Sabina and S. Alessio, which are close to Sant' Anselmo.

Along the way, of course, I stopped for a slice of real Italian pizza, and some gelato -- fragole (strawberry) is my favorite. (The food around here, at Sant' Anselmo and at Einsiedeln, is excellent -- especially the soup, bread and cheese). In the afternoon, I took a siesta and spent some time time reading in the cloister courtyard at Sant' Anselmo.

Today, while Fr. Paul is in class (a pity), I am setting out on foot again, this time along the Appian Way to the ancient catacombs, which I didn't get to see my last time here. In 2006, I saw many of the "major" sights in Rome in quick succession, so my aim this time around is to be a bit more leisurely and selective. I'm undecided as of now about visiting the Vatican again, but I may take in the Pantheon (which I missed in 2006).

Later during my time in Italy, I plan to make some day trips from Rome -- at least to Subiaco and Sacro Speco, where St. Benedict had his hermitage, and perhaps to Montecassino, the monastery he established. If time permits, I may also visit Norcia, where he was born and where there is a monastery headed by another Saint Meinrad confrere, Fr. Cassian.

Absolutely none of this, of course, compares with the joyous news I received via email this morning from my mother -- that my sister Shannon and her beau Ty are engaged!

As my mother tells the story, Ty took Shannon last evening to a romantic dinner and wine tasting party at a historic restaurant in Marietta, Ohio. After dinner they went out on the patio. The waiter brought a bottle of champaign out with an empty glass and said, "Would you care for a champagne on the Rock?" -- the ring was in the champagne glass. Ty then got down on his knee to propose. Happily, Shannon said yes!

Magnifico! Che bello! Dio ti benedica!

... and a prayer and a gelato to all!