Tag Archives: St. Anthony

A Pilgrimage to Italy

Venice

A number of us are going on a pilgrimage to Italy, October 17-27. I spoke about the trip to some of my companions a few days ago.

“When you discover the world around you, you discover the world within you.”

We’ll be soon on our pilgrimage to northern Italy and Rome. If you have access to the internet, look up the places we’ll be visiting–Venice, Padua, Siena, Florence, Lucca, Rome, Pompei. There’s a wealth of free information available,

But let me recommend some resources.  We’ll begin our pilgrimage in Venice, the ancient maritime republic on the Adriatic Sea. Like other small powerful maritime states– England, Holland and Portugal– Venice, which is now part of Italy, was once an independent global power skilled in using the sea. Even today, the region around Venice is economically better off than other regions of Italy, largely because of Venetian economic acumen.

For centuries, the Venetian republic was linked to the Byzantine and Muslim worlds through the sea and many of its treasures, like the relics of St. Mark, come from those parts of the world. Its buildings and its art are also strongly influenced by the building and art of its trading partners.

An excellent new book on the history of Venice,  (City of Fortune: How Venice Ruled the Seas,  by Robert Crowley,  2012) offers a vivid description of the part Venice played in the Crusades and its relations to the Muslim and Byzantine empires. It’s a history that can throw light on our relationship with the Middle East today.

The best commentary on the art of Venice and Padua I’ve found is John Ruskin’s, The Stones of Venice and Giotto and his Works in Padua, both available free at Apple’s iTunes on the internet. Ruskin has a beautiful description of the art in St. Mark’s Cathedral in Venice, one of the great wonders of the world. We’ll celebrate Mass in the cathedral begun in 976 after fire destroyed an earlier building.

Padua, once the capital of Venice and also its rival, is still one of Italy’s intellectual centers.  The brilliant Italian scientist Galileo Galilei, a towering figure of the scientific world, was born in the 17th century in Pisa, in Tuscany, and studied, taught and lectured in Pisa and Padua as well as in Florence, where he and his family made their home. He’s called the father of experimental science; his work in astronomy drew criticism from the church of his time and made him a symbol of the conflict between faith and science.

However, he was a deeply religious man, Catholic to the core. Two of his daughters entered the convent outside Florence and one of them, Sister Maria Celeste, carried on a long, tender correspondence with her brilliant father.

Galileo believed that nature was a teacher along with the bible, and he wanted the church to accept scientific knowledge, otherwise it could be called an enemy of truth and human progress. Like others then and now, he believed that the bible taught you how to go to heaven and not how the heavens go.

His story is beautifully and carefully told in a recent book:

(Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love, Dava Sobel,  New York 1999). There’s a television version:  Galileo: Battle for the Heavens, that you can find on Nova’s internet site.

I admire the author’s even-handed description of the relations between the scientist and the churchmen who condemned him for what they considered heretical ideas. “A tragic mutual incomprehension has been interpreted as the reflection of a fundamental opposition between science and faith, “ Pope John Paul said with regret   in 1992.

Galileo was a believing scientist. I think believing scientists like Galileo and artists like Giotto (+1336) are going to be important figures in our church and our society in the future. Scientists and artists help us to know God through truth and beauty. Giotto revived people’s imagination by the treasures he left in Padua, Assisi, Florence and Rome.

Saints also strengthen our hope for the future, so we’ll keep our eyes open for the saints in the cities we’re visiting. Anthony of Padua, Catherine of Siena, Fra Angelico of Florence. We’ll celebrate Mass in their shrines in Padua and Siena.

At Lucca we’ll visit the shrine of St. Gemma. (1878-1903} Lucca is a lovely old Italian city near the Mediterranean Sea. Gemma is an “Unsuccessful Saint,” a beautiful young woman of the 19th century who in one way never achieved her dreams, yet God touched her in ways deeper than she could have ever imagined. Her life contradicts so many visions of success that our society holds. We’re going to look into her world and her life. She’s a sign that God still raises up “the lowly.”

A friend of mine offered me some wonderful notes on life and times in Lucca in Gemma’s day. Among other interesting facts, Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924), the opera composer, was from Lucca. He composed “La Bohème” which premiered in 1896. “Although Puccini did not write an opera about Gemma, he was considered incomparable in delineating frail, simple heroines like her.”

Gemma seems so unlike Catherine of Siena (1347-1380), whose shrine we will visit in Siena. Named a “Doctor of the Church” in 1970, she’s the patron saint of Italy along with Francis of Assisi.  The “Black Death” claimed one third of the population of the cities of Italy during her lifetime, at the same time the church was sunk in scandals and corruption. Catherine wasn’t afraid to scold popes, bishops, priests and politicians, and by reconciling feuding Italian cities she sparked new life into the soul of Italy.

Saints have different missions and model God’s grace in different ways, and so both Catherine and Gemma exemplify how God’s grace works in us.

Here’s some material on Gemma. http://www.cptryon.org/compassion/75/gemma.html

On Catherine, there’s a fine interview with a Dominican writer at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvlA9FBAk24

In Rome we’ll visit St. Peter’s, of course, and also Pompei, where modern archeology got its start in the 18th century. There’s a novel by Paul Harris called “Pompei” that’s worth reading; a story of that city’s last days that’s carefully researched. We’ll say hello to the pope at his Wednesday audience and celebrate Mass in St. Peter’s.

We’re going to visit  the motherhouse of my community, the Passionists, while in Rome. Saints John and Paul is located in one of Rome’s oldest areas, on the Coelian Hill, not far from the Colosseum.  Nero’s gardens were here; much of the present monastery is built over the ruins of the Temple of Claudius, another Roman emperor.  Under the Church of Saints John and Paul are the remnants of a house where Christians met around the 4th century. Early Christian saints are buried here. It’s a tight squeeze to get a large group into the underground ruins, but I’ll see if we can get there. We’ll also visit the chapel that holds the remains of the founder of my own community, St. Paul of the Cross.

You get an overview on the Coelian Hill of the history of Rome and the Catholic church. Cardinal Egan, the retired archbishop of New York, is the titular head of this old Roman church.

I wrote about this place here.

https://vhoagland.wordpress.com/2008/11/24/house-church-on-the-celian-hill/

http://www.cptryon.org/compassion/sum01/index.html

Songs of the Saints

Ann, Mary, the Child Jesus, Massacio

Someone told me about a recent program on NPR on which a scientist said our hearing is wired to hear the song of birds. Our earliest ancestors learned to listen to the song of birds, I suppose because birds could tell them there was water and food nearby–or perhaps their silence warned of enemies.

I wrote about this awhile ago on this blog.

It may be a good analogy for discussing saints.  Saints are like the song of birds telling us there’s another kind of water and food nearby; they point to the presence of God. And we have different saints, just as we have different kinds of birdsong.

What kind of saint is St. Ann? Like all saints she faced challenges in her life. Her greatest challenge was that she and her husband Joachim were not able to have a child for a long time. This was at the time when children were looked upon as treasures and those who did not have children were sometimes seen as cursed by God. Besides, as descendants of David they had a duty to continue his line.

Ann and her husband had a long, hard wait before she conceived Mary, who became the Mother of Jesus. Once, she’s described as bursting into tears as she looked up and saw some sparrows building a nest in a laurel tree. “Why was I born, Lord?” she said, “The birds build nests for their young and I have no child of my own. The creatures of the earth, the fish of the sea are fruitful, but I have nothing. The land produces fruit, but I have no child to hold in my arms.” (Protoevangelium)

You can see why some pray to St. Ann for help in marriage or to have children. Perhaps grandparents today as they’re called to help out with younger grandchildren can see in her an older person who did that too.

Saints have different lessons to teach, but all saints have this in common: they have a deep faith in God’s will and they’re constant in prayer. They’re faithful in prayer, in good times and in bad. Prayer is their daily song to God. It may be a sorrowful song like Ann’s in the example above. Or it may be joyful. But prayer gives them wisdom and strength and peace, from moment to moment, from day to day.

One of the great early saints from the Egyptian desert, St. Anthony, was asked once what’s the hardest thing you have to do in life? “ The hardest thing you have to do in life is pray,” he said, “Everything else you can stop doing, but you can’t stop praying.”

I’m afraid today daily prayer isn’t high on our priorities. I think it’s going the way of Sunday Mass, becoming “occasional prayer.” We only think about prayer when a tragedy like yesterday’s shootings in Colorado happens.

Daily prayer gets us ready for what God gives us to do each day.  Jesus taught his disciples the Our Father; that’s a daily prayer. It tells us who we are each day: we’re children of God and should act like God’s children. We need to remember God’s kingdom is coming and we’re to work for it day by day. We need daily bread of all kinds. We’re part of a messy, noisy world that’s torn apart by selfishness and smallness and pride. We’re bring our share of sin into the world, so we ask for forgiveness each day and forgive others day by day.

“Deliver us from evil” today. Deliver all of us from evil, today.

Good St. Anthony, come around

“Good St. Anthony come around, something’s lost and can’t be found.”

The famous 13th Franciscan saint  was born in Portugal and died in Padua, Italy.  He was canonized almost immediately after he died in 1231. A brilliant preacher and teacher of scripture he was declared a doctor of the church in 1946.

Anthony’s skill at finding things seems to come from a personal experience–he lost his psalter, the book of scripture that contains the psalms. In his day the psalter was the prayer-book of religious, who carried it around with them always. Gradually printing made it possible to put all the scriptures and prayers  in one book, but in Anthony’s day the psalter was it, most likely the only book a poor friar could call his own.

What makes the story more interesting is that some say a disgruntled student of Anthony’s stole the book. I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Anthony’s class notes–he was a teacher–and all of his sermon notes–he was a preacher in demand– were in that psalter too. So. imagine losing your computer with all your files and personal information on it?

Horrors!

You can see why Anthony prayed to get that book back, and why he has sympathy for those who  experience losing important things.

The story also reminds us that Anthony not only taught, he prayed as he taught. The way he lived matched the words he spoke. That was the secret of his effective preaching.

Here’s some words of Anthony from one of his sermons:

“The one who is filled with the Holy Spirit speaks in different languages. These different languages are different ways of witnessing to Christ– humility, poverty, patience and obedience. We speak these languages when we reveal these virtues to others. Actions speak louder than words; let your words teach and your actions speak… Gregory says: ‘A law is laid upon the preacher to practice what he preaches.’”

St. Anthony of Egypt

Today’s the feast of St. Anthony of Egypt, the 3th century hermit who, through his biography written by St. Athanasius, the bishop of Alexandria, became one of the most important sources of spirituality in the Christian churches of the east and west.

He played a role in the conversion of St. Augustine, who was deeply moved by reading his life. He’s called the father of monasticism because of his influence on the monastic movement in the church after his death.

If you look at his life, you see a simple, ordinary man who took the gospel seriously. Artists love to dramatize Anthony fighting temptations, which he did. But his temptations, when you look at them, are remarkably like our own–if we look at them.

They were constant and varied, sometimes to pride, to crippling anxiety, to lust, to pleasure. They were complex, shifting and troublesome.

For him temptation meant, not only confronting some sudden evil choice, but struggling through life with recurring doubts and deeply held illusions that weigh down the human heart. Temptation for Anthony was a part of human experience, and he showed it was also part of the experience of a saint.

He found, too, that temptation, far from being a time when God abandons someone, is a time when God is near. Beyond increasing self-knowledge, which it does, the experience of temptation reveals to the human heart the power of God’s grace. As he got older, he got increasingly optimistic. His constant message to others was:”Don’t be afraid.”

That’s one of the reasons people were attracted to this ordinary man: he was real, and he shared that experience with others. Speaking to him, they saw themselves as they were and as they could be.

St. Athanasius writes: “Seeing him, the villagers and those who knew him called him a friend of God, and they loved him as a son and as a brother.”