*****
June 11th 11:00
Dinner Thursday night offered my roommate Brock and I the opportunity to catch up with a friend and mentor of mine from high school, Father Elijah, who is studying for his doctorate in Rome. We spent the evening entertaining the topics of our lives, the pope, things to do in and around the Eternal City, and let funny stories keep the conversation alive. The highlight of the night included Elijah scaring the Spanish family next to us by putting up his monastic hood and sneaking behind them. It is always refreshing to have a night to relax and inspire each other, especially through the life of a monk.
 |
| A group of college kids (Elijah counts right? hehe) |
We went to bed Thursday night with plans to travel to Castel Gandolfo Friday evening. With excited anticipation we trudged through the school day and left immediately to our destination. Castel Gandolfo is the summer residence of the pope located on Lake Albano. The train ride is cheap (€4 round-trip) and took only an hour. We arrived at our stop and were met by the best view of our time here in Italy. The landscape around the lake forms what seems like a crater, sloping steeply from the edge of the water up to a ridge around the lake. The air was cool and the breeze from the lake eliminated the humidity. Across the valley of the lake, a quaint town decorates the horizon. I can see why the pope's are fond of this place. We walked around the small town not really knowing what we wanted to do. Of all the things we could wish to happen next, we definitely did not expect what was in store for us.
 |
| View from Castel Gandolfo |
While walking through the main square of the town, we wanted to stop and look inside the Baroque church. We passed the church and saw a wedding in progress. A red antique fiat dressed with an arrangement of flowers sat in front of the church waiting for the newlyweds to drive off together. I stood there in the doorway of the church and watched this couple commit their love to each other.
 |
| Artsy Photo by Christine |
As I mentioned before in a previous post, I have been reading Pope Francis' words on the family and marriage in his new exhortation. To know that this couple was not afraid of this commitment, this promise, was proof that Francis' words are not void when they enter the real world. Belief in love is alive. Belief in commitment, even in this day and age, is not obsolete. A monk, a marriage, there is commitment in both and they are lives that are beautifully vibrant and full of love. A secular society will convince you of the dangers of commitment and of the realistic optimism found within self-giving love. But, through my dinner with a monk and witnessing of a marriage, I don't see danger. I only see people wishing to find themselves, find out who they really are. I can only hope for the courage to do the same.
We woke up this morning with a goal in mind. Arrive at the train station, get on a train, and go somewhere, anywhere. We bought our tickets and decided on Orbetello. After a fast walk to the train, we are on our way, on our way to a place we don't know anything about. We are optimistic though and full of joy and jitters. But such is life, full of questions unanswered and unasked, with optimism throughout, full of faith, hope, and self-sacrificial love. The train of life, bridging to the unknown, will take us to where we belong.
*****
June 12th 07:30
Let me tell you about an adventure. Upon our arrival to the city of Orbetello, we had no clue where we were or where we needed to go. We took another educated guess and took a bus to the island near the city. Now, this is where it gets good.
From this island we witnessed some of the most beautiful views. Yes, I know I have probably said this over and over again in many of my blog posts. But, each time we have left our comfort zone, we have been rewarded by this very forgiving country. On this island, we found a port town named San Estefano. This town was built into the rocky coast of the island. We trekked to a higher elevation to see the views.
Now, if you thought that was good, hear this. We walked around this city and stumbled upon a medieval Spanish fortress. Yes, you heard me correctly. A MEDIEVAL SPANISH FORTRESS. How cool is that. We toured the fortress and made friends with the workers there that were kind enough to tell us of another city, Porte Ercole. At this next town, we were met with more views and a peaceful dinner by the seaside. I cannot tell you how fortunate we were to have found a little piece of heaven on Earth by what seemed like chance.
 |
| I decided it was in the best interest for me to take over the fortress. |
 |
| Views |
 |
| The flowers were pretty |
 |
| Goofin' |
I will be honest when I tell you there were times yesterday where I was anxious about not knowing what was next on our adventure. But, the Italian seaside walked with us the whole way, leading us by chance to it's most beautiful facets and niches. I can only offer this advice from my journey yesterday: find small ways everyday to leave your comfort zone, put to the test your thirst for adventure, and you will never regret it. I can say from my two weeks here in the Eternal City that the most formative and memorable experiences have been off-the-cuff, unplanned events where we allowed ourselves to be uncomfortable, or rather comfortable with the unknown. So here is to the idea of the comfort zone, which might be the worst human construct to have developed in our short history. Let's get rid of it.
*****
June 12th 09:00
Through the insight of Father Elijah, I was shown an interesting parallel between my life and that of Francis of Assisi. I will copy an excerpt of the story sent to me by Father Elijah:
When the young Francis was attacked by brigands, he came cold and hungry to a Benedictine moanstery near Gubbio and found hospitality there. Many years later in 1223 or 1224, Francis had a meeting there at the monastery with three hundred of his brothers, and the monks provided food and drink.
In 1207-08 Francis undertook to restore the dilapidated and vandalized chapel of St. Mary of the Angels in the area of the Portiuncula. It belonged to the Benedictines of Monte Subasio. Francis asked the abbot if he could restore and use it, and the abbot said yes. It was at this place that Francis heard the gospel about possessing neither gold nor silver, not staff, bread, nor extra shoes and clothes. When he heard this, Francis realized the nature of the calling he and his brothers had received. The Franciscan Order was born.
After being able to obtain no church from the bishop and clergy of Assisi, Francis asked the abbot of Subasio give him the little church of the Portiuncula outright so Francis and his brothers would have a place to celebrate the liturgy. The abbot and monks agreed. Thereafter, in gratitude, once each year Francis sent the abbot some fish. The monks in their turn sent him oil for the lamp which burned before the altar.
The point in which the story of Francis' life crosses with my own is very interesting. Francis was welcomed by the Benedictines of his area, who gave him the church in which to worship and found his order. I, named Jacob Francis, was welcomed by Benedictines at Subiaco Abbey to learn and be formed into a man. It does not end there. My friend and roommate while here in Italy is named Alexis Fransisco after Francis of Assisi as well. He gets his middle name from his great-grandfather. Where do I get mine? My great-grandfather. One can cite coincidence only so far until they recognize the underlying story at play.
 |
| Jacob Francis and Alexis Francisco |
 |
| Not many pictures of Assisi due to heavy restrictions in the churches |
We participated in the noon mass at the Basilica of Saint Francis in Assisi. It was said in Italian, but it is remarkable to know that the liturgy of the mass transcends the language and truly communicates its message through the Eucharist. One friend, Christine, had never been to a Catholic mass before. What would be a better way to be exposed to Catholicism than a mass in Italian, in Assisi, Italy, above the tomb of one of the most prolific saints in the history of Christianity? I'm sure she was terrified, but she said it was a great experience. We saw the tomb of Saint Francis who died in 1226. To know that a man who died over 700 years ago is still influential enough that parents name their children after him, that is impressive. It takes a truly great man to achieve this kind of "fame" through a life of humility and poverty. I bought two books on the life and writings of Francis and plan to read them to learn more about my namesake.
The past several days have been jam packed with lots of buses, trains, fatigue, and most importantly, pure adventure. Thanks to my four companions on the journey. Thanks for helping me learn the lessons of travel that no classroom can teach.
Until next time,
Jacob Maestri
Comments
Post a Comment