Friday, October 11, 2019

We're b-a-ck!

Well, sort of. Still a bit jet lagged, to tell the truth. The plane got in Tuesday night, with six Daughters of St Paul on board: we picked up an extra sister while in Rome. Sister Andrea, from the Czech Republic, will be in the US for a good part of the year working on her English skills and taking part in the Media Literacy course (put on by our Pauline Center for Media Studies). But one of the six will be returning to Rome sooner than anticipated.

Our provincial superior, Sister Donna Giaimo (third from left in photo), was elected to our congregation's general government
as a councilor to the new Superior General, Sister Anna Caiazza. So Sr Donna (a former member of the Daughters of St Paul Choir) will be moving to Rome at the end of November to serve a six year term, along with two re-elected councilors and three other newly elected councilors (from Korea, Italy and Kenya--the first African sister in our general government). For us (and, I'm sure, for our sisters in Korea, Italy and Kenya) this is case in which the greater good of the worldwide congregation is asking us to sacrifice an "Isaac" whose capable service we have really appreciated and hoped to benefit from a bit more ... directly. It is a real test of faith!

Our new Superior General, Sr Anna Caiazza, introducing me to the Holy Father.
In order to strengthen our faith in the face of that sacrifice in accord with the mandate given to the successor of Peter to "strengthen the brethren," we were given a special private meeting with Pope Francis the day before our General Chapter ended. I had been doubtful that non-delegates would be able to participate in this audience, but we were included, and even our sisters who work in a nearby Vatican office were allowed to sit in for the Papal address and one-on-one handshake with the Holy Father. His talk was practically a confirmation of everything that had been discussed during the long Chapter, and when he reached the point of saying "We don't have time to lose," he looked up, raised his hand in that characteristic teaching gesture of his, pointing to the sky and repeated: "There's no time to lose." You can read his whole talk here; in fact, I recommend it!
Outdoor art in Albano. The bucket says, "Laudato Si"; the tag is #exemplumomnibus
Speaking of Pope Francis, in late September he visited the nearby town of Albano (location of our hospital), where the local bishop commissioned an outdoor art piece (unveiled the day of the papal visit). The following Monday I had an errand to run in town: a perfect excuse to see the painting for myself! It is located right across from the Cathedral entrance, on the outside wall of a building. There was a big truck in the parking lot when I got there, so I took a few pictures and then went to visit the Cathedral. When I came out, the driver had pulled the truck several feet forward, giving me an unobstructed view of the painting, which really is charming. I got a very strong sense of how intensely Europeans feel the environmental issue; by addressing it, Pope Francis is establishing a sense of common ground with people who may not share our appreciation of creation as coming from a loving and provident Creator. I came to understand that this gives him the kind of credibility that grounds his proposal for a "human ecology": If people do not feel that Catholics respect the environment, our calls to respect human life seem hypocritical to them.

Back to the Chapter and elections: right before the elections were to begin, the translators had been sent away from the retreat house to leave the electors as free as possible. That gave us extra and unexpected freedom, too: free time in Rome! (Granted, I got called back the very next morning for one more day's service, but I still had two free days in Rome I hadn't been counting on at all.) This was my chance to see things I had never seen before, and to have new experiences in the Eternal City. For the first time ever (it took a bit of work to find it, too!), I visited the ancient church of St Lawrence in Lucina (that is, on the grounds of Lady Lucina's property), where the gridiron on which the famous deacon was martyred is preserved in a glass urn under an altar. The relics of Pope St Alexander are in a glass urn under another altar, and there is a fabulously carved 13th century Easter candle holder in the sanctuary. One thing we did not see was the papal throne from the 12th century; except for a few days each year it is kept in a hidden chamber behind the altar.

The standing figure on the far left in San Marco's half-dome
is Pope Gregory IV, Pope from 827-844. The square halo
means 
he was alive when this mosaic was made.
I made it back to the Gesù to light a candle at the tomb of St Ignatius (whose altar was being covered in scaffolding as we arrived). After that, since we were near Piazza Venezia, we went around the corner to see if perhaps the ancient Basilica of San Marco was still open. This was question, because by then it was noon, and I remembered from my earlier visits to Rome that most of the churches were locked between noon and 4 p.m. daily, leaving only tourist sites and the major Basilicas open for visits. Surprisingly, the "paradise" (the gated vestibule) of San Marco was unlocked, so in we went, going down several steps to the marble-floored area where catechumens were once relegated. Then we went down several more steps (with each step going down a few centuries further back in time) until we entered the Basilica itself. As we opened the doors, the sound system began playing Bruckner's incredible "Locus Iste" (listen below). We had all the time in the world to wander up the darkened aisle and put a euro in the box to light up mosaics that date to the early 800's.

Another church that has learned the pastoral value of staying open all day is the ancient church of St Marcello, one of Rome's original parishes--and so exceptional that it even had a baptistry: one which Sr Julia and I were privileged to see in a private visit below the streets of modern Rome. Our guide explained that the baptistry predated not only the church, but Christ: it was originally an ordinary Roman bath, connected to the famous water system that fed the Trevi fountain and other Roman water sources with exceptionally pure water from 15 miles away. We climbed back up, and more than halfway to street level we saw the marble facade of the ancient church.

We also made it to the grandiose "Chiesa Nuova" (New Church) built by St Philip Neri. (I prayed at his tomb--see left--for my great niece and nephew who attend St Philip Neri school.) Of course we also got gelato at every opportunity! The Church of St Ignatius (near the Pantheon) was also newly accessible during lunch hours. We visited twice. I lit a candle there for my brother-in-law Robert and nephew, Chase Robert, at the tomb of their patron saint, Robert Bellarmine (the saint's body, in his cardinal's robe's, is in a glass urn; photo on the right). Nearby, I discovered the hitherto unknown-to-me chapel of St Francis Xavier, now used only on Sundays for Mass in English. And just up the street (alley?) is a restaurant (Il Falchetto) where, on Sunday, eight of us met for a solemn high pranzo worthy to be remembered. (Sister Margaret Joseph brings all her visitors here and says she has never seen anyone disappointed.)

Following that pranzo, Sister Margaret took us on a private tour of the excavations below the Church of Santa Maria in Via Lata, where an ancient tradition says St Luke once lived (and with him, of course, St Paul during his Roman imprisonment). That it was the site of Roman shops and dwellings is clear from the archaeological evidence. It was also the site of at least two different Byzantine monastic communities in two different eras. Most of the frescoed icons had to be removed to a museum for restoration and safe-keeping, since once the area was excavated they began to deteriorate rapidly. (In fact, there is a well at that deep level from which you can still draw water). Still, there are remnants of icons, presumably past the point of restoration, which gazed upon us from the damp walls. (The picture here was enhanced so you could see a bit more of the facial detail than is immediately evident.)

That left us one more day--a rainy day, as it turned out. I made plans with one of the American delegates to spend the afternoon visiting the Basilica of St Paul-outside-the-walls. Providentially for the Daughters of St Paul, a relatively new bus line that goes all the way St Paul's burial site now has its "capolinea" (end station) right by our Generalate. We managed to time things perfectly so that we arrived just as the bus was ready to depart. I even practiced live-streaming via Twitter as we lit up the Basilica's apse mosaics, and then signed off to pray at the Apostle's tomb, leaving a small donation so that "Nunblogger's" readers could be remembered in a Mass by the Benedictine monks whose abbot (Ildefonse Schuster, now Blessed) had welcomed Blessed Timothy Giaccardo and the first Pauline community in 1926. On the way home, we got off the bus a few stops early so we could get a last, "Arrividerci, Roma" gelato at the local gelateria.

And then it was time to pack, adding in as many of the little gifts we had received from the chapter
I'm ready for my Golden Jubilee
(or my funeral, or both).
delegates as possible. (I especially appreciated the tote bags, pens, and the 1 TB drive with all the talks, slide programs and photos that had been shared during the month!) With the weight limits on international flights down to 23 kg, that meant I had to leave behind not only some of the gifts I had received, but also the jar of chestnut spread I had bought on my first day in Rome as a treat to bring back...small as it was, it was heavy enough to make a difference. (I didn't even think about it until later, but the real culprit was my holy card supply: I had stocked up on my favorite icon of Jesus!)

And so here we are: overcoming jet lag one day at a time. Ready to return to "ordinary time" in the service of the Lord and his Word.

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