Spiritual Ecstasy: Saturday in the Third Week of Lent

Today's Lenten Station Church is, or rather, was supposed to be the church of Susanna at the Baths of Diocletian, but it is under restoration... so we went across the street.  The kindly priest at the 'Cheisa di Santa Maria della Vittoria (Church of St Mary of Victory) opened up at 0655, just in time for us to vest quickly for a 0700 Mass.  The exterior of the Church looks like this and mirrors the Church of Susanna across the street (which would be to your left):

I wondered at the title of the Church, until I stepped inside and looked up:

You can't see it, I know.  What you can take in with your eyes when you are standing there does not even remotely come through in a blurry little BBrry photo... and I couldn't find a picture of it on the internet either, which is unfortunate.  Anyway, the apse ceiling (half-dome above the main altar) which you just barely see above the beautiful sun-burst on the wall behind the altar, is a depiction of the Battle of Prague (1648).  The Catholic victory is attributed to the intervention of our Lady and hence the title of the Church.

Even though that is the name of the church, the real reason why this church is a favourite stop for tourists, art lovers and students of the spiritual life is a famous sculpture by Bernini called 'The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa'.

Okay, to understand this sculpture you have to understand the mystical life and writings of St. Theresa. Primarily, you have to read her 'Life', that is, her spiritual autobiography, in which she tries to describe the spiritual intimacy, joy and mystical union with God that she experienced as a contemplative nun.  She was a Discalced Carmelite nun... discalced meaning to go without shoes.  Remember when Moses turned aside to see the burning bush that although it was on fire didn't burn?  The bush contained the presence and glory of God and yet was not consumed by this intense 'overshadowing' or filling with the glory of God... And the Voice from the burning bush spoke to Moses and told him to take off his shoes for the place on which he was standing was holy ground.

Firstly, that represents to us the Blessed Virgin Mary who contained within her womb the second Person of the most holy Trinity, the Son of God, and yet was not consumed or destroyed for that fact... because she was 'full of grace', as the angel Gabriel said at the Annunciation.

Secondly, every consecrated virgin and nun, and in this particular case St. Theresa of Avila (Spain) seeks to be truly holy, and to be 'discalced', meaning 'made to put off their shoes' because they find themselves in the presence of God on holy ground, united to God in that mystical union in which they are filled with his presence to the extent that a human being can be, without perishing in the process.

 All that to say, that in her spiritual autobiography which she was compelled to write by her confessor (because she was too humble to do so otherwise), St. Theresa wrote of one intense experience of God:

I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it. It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying.

And this passage became the inspiration for Bernini's statue of 'St. Theresa in Ecstasy'. Foolish interpreters of this spiritual ecstasy have often made it out to be a kind of sensual experience because that is the only thing that this carnally obsessed society can understand.  They know nothing of what St. Theresa is talking about so they try to relate it to the one thing that dominates their own thinking and then blindly attempt to equate it to their own shallow and spiritually atrophied existence. No, my friends, this is spiritual intimacy, union with God who is a consuming fire.  This is holy ground... take off your shoes.

And Mary said to the angel (Gabriel): How shall this be done, because I know not man? And the angel answering, said to her: The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the most High shall overshadow thee. And therefore also the Holy which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.... And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to thy word.

"And that's all I want to say about that."  More later today, perhaps.  I am praying for my friends and family who are following along with my sabbatical.  May God bless you.

Side Street Churches

Today I got up around 5 am, did some stretching exercises, and launched out on a back street adventure in trying to find Thursday's Station Church (Saints Cosmas and Damian -twins and martyrs).  It was good to walk, it actually helps... and it was a lot of fun finding my own way there.  Actually, I get close and then look for the horde of seminarians steaming up behind me at a far brisker walking pace... from there I just follow them to the actual church.  No stress.

As I descended those brick steps of the Juniculum Hill... more slowly than usual, I recalled my friend referring to them at one point in Italian as the 'Scale dall'inferno': steps from hell.

What I noticed, though, at the foot of the steps and out onto the path beside the Tiber was that at some point during my week off the trees had budded and the little leaves were giving a shade of light green to my morning walk.

That's the Tiber River on the left, through the new leaves.  Spring has sprung in Rome... although to be honest, it was 18*C and sunny pretty much since I got here.  This week has been cooler and rainy - so not quite as pleasant.  I know you folks in Canada don't really feel that sorry for me.

So, like I said, I wound my way through multiple back streets to get to the Church of Sts Cosmas and Damian this morning.  The church is very old, of course, and it is situated in a marshy, flood-prone area of Rome, so at some point the floor was actually raised 20 feet so today it was really interesting to sit in 'choir' because we were sitting close to the original ceiling!  You could really see the beauty and detail in the mosaics when you are 20 feet closer to the top of the building.

The church is tucked in behind this magnificent building, that I showed you before:

It's called the Vittorio Emmanuel II national monument.  Pictures don't do it justice.  Around to the left of this photo is Trajan's Victory Column I showed you earlier:

So, walking in between the Vit.Emmanuel monument and Trajan's column, amidst other ancient ruins of the Roman Forum... and before you get to the Colosseum, you discover the Church of Cosmas and Damian.  So, in this pic you are now behind the Vit Emmanuel monument - see it in the background - and the ancient ruins are at your feet in front of you, and the Church is still a little farther to your left (not in the pic yet):

If you do a 180* turn and look behind you, you will see the Colosseum in the distance (being restored -hence the scaffolding on the far left):

Looking at the picture above, today's Station Church is just on your right, but not yet in the picture (again!)

Yep, that's it.  Not much to look at from the outside, eh?  See the pilgrims waiting to get in?  Also, notice the yellow police tape?  That's right, Obama... again.  I was happy to see his helicopter leave this afternoon from the Vatican.  Remember I am close to the Vatican, so I saw it go.  Now they can take down all that tape.

Meanwhile, the Mass inside the Church with the raised floor was quiet, intimate and very peaceful. There were two Cardinals with us, Cardinal O'Brien who has been with us every day, and another one who celebrated the Mass but I didn't get his name.  The music by the seminary schola was excellent and added a very solemn mood to the Lenten spiritual reflection.

See what I mean about being close to the ceiling?  Usually that apse is waaaaay above your head. Those wooden benches that follow the rounded wall of the Apse is the 'choir' where I sat this morning... behind the main altar, so I couldn't actually see what was going on.

It wasn't hard getting a picture of the main ceiling (above) in the nave.  It was like you could reach out and touch it.

In a manner similar to my method of getting to the Station Church this morning, I took a series of back streets home.  Honestly, there was a church every second street... back street.  Churches that would be like cathedrals back home are tucked into the corners of little piazzas (squares that aren't square).  I stopped in at about 6 of them and took a few pictures.  I can't remember the names of them all.  Its really quite amazing.

The exterior

The interior space

Same church... the altar piece - a little bit like the sunburst at St. Peter's.

Another church, I liked the painting of St Michael the Archangel.

The choir loft and pipe organ.  You can't see it very well, but painted all across the balcony of the loft are a multitude of the heavenly host praising God on a variety of musical instruments.

Yet another church in the corner of a small piazza on a backstreet in Rome.  That is a pulpit on the left, halfway up the wall.  Many of the churches still have these... kind of different and perhaps not really needed in a church that is not the size of a basilica.

This is the altar piece of that same church... Mary and Joseph with Jesus and a Levitical priest (probably Simeon) in the temple in Jerusalem.  In ALL these churches, the biblical record is preserved and proclaimed through art for those who could not read... which was most people at the time.  Now-a-days, you often can't tell what a modern or post-modern artist is trying to communicate.  Here, art is in the service of the gospel and is meant to convey truth and reality as beautifully and as clearly as possible.

While I was in this church a man walked in, stopped at the open Bible and read the Scripture readings for today, and then went on his way to work.  What a great idea... which was probably more common when not everyone could afford a Bible. Don't believe that nonsense that Catholics weren't allowed to read the Bible.  After the disaster of the Reformation where each man interpreted the Bible for himself (resulting in 30,000+ Protestant denominations and counting), Catholics were not encouraged to make themselves into the sole interpreting authority of the Scriptures, but rather were encouraged to seek the mind of the Church (which wrote the Bible, BTW) on how it had historically interpreted difficult passages... but were they permitted to read the Bible, yes.

The Church near my house is 'Holy Spirit Parish' and it has a place for a round Rose window (as they are called).  Since the church is new, there is just clear glass there now.  I took this picture to show the Pastor there.

If I can get inside this church, I will get a picture of how the light shines through the window and take a picture of the details of the window.

I don't know how many pictures of Churches you can take.  I saw lots... I am posting a fraction of what I saw.  I can't describe the insides of each church... they are full of wonderful art, sculptures, mosaics, etc. and it gets to be overwhelming after a while.

If the door is open, I go in.  I can't help it.

Ah! Below is the exterior of the Basilica di Santa Maria in Trastevere.

The oldest, or nearly the oldest surviving mosaics in Rome:

And then... this.  Can you figure this one out??  Click on it to enlarge (like all pics)

 What do you think is going on in this painting?  Who is the lady in the blue dress who takes up the foreground (and therefore the primacy of place) in this painting.  What is she wearing on her head? Yep... that's the papal tiara.  Was there really a Pope Joan???  I see six cardinals in the back left, in some kind of disputation or presentation to a gathering of clergy... but no Holy Father, unless... hehehe.

No, this is actually of the Council of Trent and that is holy Wisdom in the foreground.

 I'll leave it there for tonight.

Limping along in the rain

Wednesday,
Starting to get mobile again, but not able to do the Station Church this morning, which was a 55 min walk, one way.  Nevertheless, I went out this morning after Mass at the College in order to stretch my leg.  It was raining and as I was on my way out of the compound one of my priest-colleagues and I crossed paths... he cautioned me, not about the slippery pavers/cobble stones, but that there were police everywhere with whole sections of Rome near the Vatican roped off.   Oh?  Obama is in Rome.  Oh.  Not only that, but since I decided to take a short cut through the Vatican Square-that-is-round, it got worse: Doh! It's Wednesday and the Papal audience is in progress.  If it were all about me, which it isn't, I might wonder at the inconvenience: Just as I am trying to get to a particular street vendor on the other side of the Vatican, the Pope holds his weekly audience.  Not just any weekly audience.  An audience swollen by the fact that Popes John XXIII and Pope John Paul II are going to be declared Saints soon (so half of Poland is already here), oh, and Obama is here.  The umbrellas can't hide the fact that there are 50,000 - 60,000+ people underneath them holding them up.  A sea of colour in St. Peter's Square-that-is-not.  It's impossible to go through, so I have to go around.

It was just a few weeks ago I was standing at the back of the crowd taking pictures of the Pope as he drove through the crowd close by where I was standing.  Now there wasn't a square inch inside the Square-that-is-key-hole-shaped.  Who knows how to count that many people?  They overflowed outside St. Peter's Square-that-(never mind).  So I did the long loop around and didn't stand in the rain cheering on the papal address in Italian.  How could I?  I don't speak Italian.  Besides, there was a street vendor with a black felt hat with my name on it somewhere on the other side of St Peter's on the way to the Castel Sant'Angelo fortress/museum:

Bernini sculptures on bridge leading to Castel Sant'Angelo

By the way, those are all sculptures you see along the sides of the bridge leading to Castel Sant'Angelo are done by Bernini (which means they are magnificent) and they are of Angels holding all of the items related to the crucifixion of Christ: the spear that pierced his side, the three nails, the crown of thorns, the reed with a sponge full of vinegar, etc.

Three Nails

Sponge: 'I Thirst'

I get to walk by this incredible artistry almost every day... if I can walk.  I don't see how one can just walk passed them, although most do.  Anyway, I was actually out to exercise my gimpy leg with a specific mission of getting myself one of those felt wedge shaped hats.  I had priced one last Saturday on the way home from Lanciano, but I am only now getting out and about.  So, I found my street vendor, among the hundreds (really) and asked the price on a rainy day.  The rainy day price for a hat when there are 70K people around: 20 euros.  Price last Saturday: 12 euros.  Ha! I got it for 12 today anyway - my only attempt at haggling today.  You can laugh... just not when I wear it.

First 'selfie' ever: The black hat

Sporting my new black hat and a collapsible umbrella from the common collection provided at the door of the College, I made my way toward De Riti's thinking I would get a couple of cinctures (rope-belts), but I never made it.  I was venturing along Via Coronari and came across this Church, which I had never been in:

You have to take advantage of the opportunity to go into these churches while the door is open, because as often as not, the church is closed as you walk by.  They open during certain hours, but it is rarely as you just happen to be walking by.  Just inside the door, to the right, is this carving in wood of Padre Pio assisting Christ with his Cross.  

Padre Pio died in 1968 and is a saint for our days.  I recently re-read his biography before coming to Italy and I was so moved by his life, his holiness, his stigmata, his spiritual gift of discernment in the confessional, and yes, his ability to be present to people hundreds of miles away without leaving his monastery.  An inspiring saint who was still living when I was 10 years old! Wow...

Having lost myself in contemplation in that church, I never made it to De Riti's, but that can happen another day when Obama is not in town and the Pope is not giving his general audience... and it is not raining.

After pranzo, lunch, I dragged two of my priest friends to an instructional session on the Traditional Latin Mass at the Seminary.  It doesn't take long for birds of a feather to flock together... we tend to find each other as the sabbatical progresses.  I have also been taking some instruction from Fr Wm Barker, FSSP at S.Trinita dei Pelligrini, as well as attending Mass there.  This week the Pope's vicar of Rome is going to celebrate a Pontifical High Mass in the Extraordinary Form (TLM), so that should be wonderful.  They actually let me sit in 'choir' now, but I don't even know when to doff my birretta, sit, stand, bow, kneel... so you can appreciate their patience and dedication to helping simple priests like me learn the old mass.

I have taken a few pics, but not many, in the week that I have been indisposed.  I will try to post some of them later.

Saturday's trip to Lanciano

Perhaps you thought I stayed on the far side of Italy, content to remain on the Adriatic Sea rather than to return to Rome and post another blog entry?

No, but the trip was great... and I will share some pictures with you so you can get a sense of what it is like to cross Italy from West to East.  You remember from geography class, like I do, the lesson about Italy being shaped like a boot?  So, crossing from one side of Italy on the Atlantic, to the other side of Italy on the Adriatic, is only as wide as your mid-calf ... so to speak.  It takes three hours.  I can't even get to Windsor from Barrie in three hours.  But I can tell you that the geography of those three hours sure beats the trip from my house to my Mom's!

Departing from Rome by bus

After Mass at St Peter's, which was quite memorable in itself, three of us walked to the Subway and by interpreting the Italian subway system maps (don't ask) we managed to get to the bus station.  Trying to communicate to the lady at the bus ticket window about where I wanted to go, and when, was nothing short of painful... then after watching me suffer, she attempted some broken English and I ended up buying two tickets instead of one return ticket... sigh.

Although there are multiple pics I could post of the mountainous region in the middle of Italy, I will just post these two:

I loved the way they perch these little villages and towns on the top of the high hills, and, if you look closely at the first pic you will see another little village dangling precariously on the side of the mountain.  They all have a church often with a spire / steeple as the highest point in the town.  Dozens of these little towns and villages dot the tops of the landscape all the way from Rome to Lanciano, where we were headed.

There are actually snow capped mountains resembling the Rockies as well.  Best pic possible from a bus window...

Once in Lanciano we found our way to the Sanctuary of the Eucharistic miracle, but it was not open until 1500 (3 pm).  So, we looked into two other churches that were within steps, yes a few steps of the first one.  The first one was St. Lucy's or Santa Lucia.

Looking to get into the church of Santa Lucia

Outside the door to Santa Lucia

The sun was streaming in from one of the upper windows right into the 'choir', (you recall that the choir stalls were monastic and were set across from each other so that the monks could sing stanzas of the Psalms back and forth to each other as they chanted their daily prayers)  So I went as sat there, just to soak it in and to be quiet... and pray of course.  I didn't chant... though I was tempted to try.
My friend happened to take my picture at the time and sent it to me:

Sunshine in the Choir stall

The other was the Basilica in Lanciano (below) which was really quite beautiful for a town of about 35,000.  We don't have anything like it, and what we do have by way of Cathedral churches serves a city of millions and a whole diocese. The marble work was what caught my attention, and although I don't have a picture of it, it was something I hadn't seen before.  The intricate patterns in the marble altar rail, for example was all inlaid... in the same way the you have sometimes seen wood perfectly shaped into a pattern that fits together and then set into a larger piece of wood... only here it was with marble.  It was amazing craftsmanship.  This is the long view of the Basilica from the back:

Basilica in Lanciano

To be honest, I don't know how to write about our visit to the third church, which was the main reason for our trip.  Catholics have this willingness to believe in miracles and live close to the supernatural order of things... and do so un-apologetically, though often ridiculed.

In any case, here is a YouTube link explaining the miracle which happened about 1,300 years ago in this town, in the original church which still exists below the one built on top.  The fact that the miracle continues to this day... well, is a miracle in itself.  The Eucharistic Miracle of Lanciano.

A combined picture of the 3 pictures we took of the Eucharistic Miracle of Lanciano

Remnants of a ancient wall fresco in the original church below

With the Apostles; Phillip and James (the Less)

Whenever I visit my cousin in Sarnia I try to make a point of stopping in the Watford cemetery to pay my respects to my father.  If we are cruising by on our motorcycles he very graciously allows me that 10 or 15 minutes to sit quietly on the bench we put by my father's grave and offer a few prayers for the repose of his soul.  It is time well spent, even if it takes a little while longer to get to wherever we happen to be going.  He understands my need to do this and waits patiently and respectfully until I am finished.

It is something like that here.  Everywhere I go there are places where my spiritual ancestors are buried, where their remains are kept sacred and where I am allowed a few moments to pay my respects.  In this case, this morning, I sat in silence and prayer before the tombs of St. Phillip and St. James (the Less), Apostles and Martyrs.  They rest in the Church of the Apostles, Rome.  

There are statues of the 12 Apostles standing watch on the top of the porch leading to this Basilica. Rome as grown up around it so that you can hardly tell from the outside that it is a church anymore.  A sidewalk café with umbrella tables on the right and condominiums on the left.  It is fully integrated into the very fabric of the city.  Very little on the exterior will draw your attention.  But, like every Basilica, Church, and Chapel I've seen in Rome, the interior is a feast for the eyes and for the soul.

The Franciscan cross of San Damiano greets you as you enter and tells you that this Church is served by the spiritual descendants of St Francis of Assisi.  The ceiling will tell you that too and I have included a picture of it later in the blog post.  It is a fresco called, 'The Triumph of the Franciscan Order'.

I was drawn forward, as one always is, from the street outside along the center aisle, the vertical beam of the cross, toward the head of the cross where the altar rests.  Most of these churches were designed in the shape of a cross.  The long aisle in the nave is intersected by the horizontal 'cross beam', the transepts on either side being the arms of the cross, and the altar and apse being the head, representing Christ... and so that area of the church gets special attention.

The Altar piece is a fine painting of the martyrdom of one of the two Apostle, though I confess I didn't make note of which one - Phillip or James?  I'll try to find out.

Although the original church was constructed in the 5th century, it didn't survive an earthquake in the 14th century and was abandoned for a long time.  It was rebuilt, of course and the Confessio or crypt was added in the 19th century to provide an extraordinary sacred space to hold the relics of Sts Phillip and James, as well as other martyred Christians from the catacombs.  An inscription explains that Pope Stephen IV walked barefoot in 886 from the catacombs to the church carrying the relics on his shoulders.

Come with me into the crypt...

Staircase descending into the crypt

The Confessio of St Philip and St James, Apostles and Martyrs

The tomb

Standing in the Confessio facing the stairs, looking through to where the other Christians from the Catacombs are reserved

Same view, standing at the foot of the stairs, among the pillars, looking back up into the Church

I guess I don't have to tell you that this is the ceiling

I just have to ask you to try to appreciate the significance of this Church and this Confessio.  I never knew this existed.  I knew, but didn't really grasp, the loving care, concern and veneration that the Church has given to its Martyrs, and of course, its first apostles.  I should have realized that they would treasure every aspect of what could be preserved from their life and death... these 12 men who turned the world upside down.  The sense of connectedness I feel to real history is profound.  I belong to this history.  I am one with the Apostles Philip and James, with the unnamed and unknown martyrs who populated the catacombs after the 'Games' in the Colosseum. 

Every day is a day of discovery... where I learn about my own spiritual heritage.  I am glad to share parts of it with you.