Of Efficient Trains and Ugly Architecture

I decided to give my feet a day of rest today. Today is the last of the sunny days for the foreseeable future. I did get out and walk around the neighborhood - there's a wonderful permanent street market across from the Motherhouse - everything from butcher shops and green markets to household items...and even shoes. The neighborhood contained a number of green markets (in addition to the typical "super mercado") - a feature I haven't seen since I left NYC in 1981. While we have been doing a great deal of walking, Rome is not an easy city to walk about. The sidewalks are an afterthought, installed in many places centuries after the street was built and are typically narrow and uneven. Still the brief walkabout I did this morning reminded me of all the walking I used to do in NYC. Since this was "a day of rest" for me, I will take the time in this post to comment on Rome as a city (as opposed to "Rome as the center of the Catholic Church" or "Rome as a tourist attraction"). First, and most distressingly, it is a city covered in graffiti (with the exception of high end neighborhoods like those between the Piazza del Popolo and the Spanish Steps)...everywhere...even on the walls surrounding the Vatican (not, as you might imagine inside the walls of the Vatican). There doesn't appear to be any civic attempt at abatement - as one Brother said to me when I asked about the ubiquitous defacement of buildings, sidewalks, and walls: "This is Rome; people are still going to come here." The point, unfortunately, is a good one. Our American need for tidiness is no match for a municipality that has been around for thousands of years. To appreciate this point, I only need to be reminded of two things: first – that graffiti is as old as the Coliseum; second that the word graffiti is Italian in origin. I suppose that a practice as old as this, with a term coined by a language native to Rome means that this visitor is out of step with a world governed by a different set of values. The other thing that I found striking about our many walks about the city of Rome is that, outside of the neighborhoods surrounding the different monuments to past historical events, Rome is a city of apartment buildings – badly designed apartment buildings. I suppose, in one sense, that’s why – like NYC – the transportation system is so dependent upon trains and buses. And, while NYC has its own share of badly designed apartment buildings, on the whole, they are not nearly as brutally ugly as they are in Rome. The neighborhood around the Motherhouse is illustrative of this larger point. One can look in any direction and find one’s view blocked by four or five story buildings (by law, no building in Rome can exceed the height of Saint Peter’s Basilica) crammed next to each other and containing quite functional but aesthetically ugly apartments. This is true of every neighborhood beyond a tourist attraction. This isn’t to say that the neighborhoods associated with tourist attractions are shaped by a Disneyesque attempt at recreating the past – rather these buildings are the past and reflect the elegant design principles of a different era. Mussolini may have been successful in making the trains run on time, but his impact on urban architecture has been altogether less savory.

It's Time to Get to Work...

In today’s session Brother John Cantwell (Australia) picked up where Charlie Kitson left off; using the Declaration as the basis for his presentation. One of the major themes of CIL this year is the recognition of the 40th anniversary of the Declaration’s publication (full title: The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: a Declaration). The document, published immediately after the Second Vatican Council, was an effort to respond to the Council’s call for “aggiornamento” (renewal) of religious life. One of the major themes of the Declaration was the promotion of lay involvement in the work of the Brothers. At the time of its publication, there were more than 10,000 Christian Brothers worldwide so, in a sense, the notion of including lay people in their work was more a function of philosophy than logistics (as late as 1973, there were 28 Christian Brothers on the staff of my Lasallian high school). In that sense this initiative was rather groundbreaking. In 1967 no one knew what would happen to membership in religious orders over the course of the next forty years. John asked us to compare a statement from the Declaration calling for full lay involvement at all levels of the school with a statement from Brother Alvaro, the Superior General at the opening of the first International Assembly of Brothers and lay partners convened in 2006. My reading of the two documents suggested that, over the course of forty years, the Brothers have moved from including lay people to welcoming us as full partners in sharing the Mission of Saint John Baptist de La Salle. The afternoon session built on this theme and then turned its attention to the two outcomes we are expected to produce over the course of the next three weeks: to develop a statement regarding what we would like to share with the Lasallian world about the future of De La Salle’s charge to provide a “human and Christian education to the young, especially the poor.”; and to develop a “project” that we can bring back to our Districts/Regions which will continue the work begun here in Rome. It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us… This photo was taken in Saint Peter's Basilica. The thirty largest cathedrals in the world can fit inside Saint Peter's. Engraved in the floor (in order of length) from shortest (Saint Patrick's in New York at 101.9 meters) to longest (Saint Paul's in London at 158.10). The Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in Los Angeles (at 120.62 meters) is about in the middle. Saint Peter's Basilica (the largest cathedral in the world) clocks in at 186.36 meters) For another view of our experience here in Rome – check out Tina Bonacci ’94 and her blog at: http://tinabonacci.blogspot.com/

Pilgrim or Tourist?

I was of the opinion that, in today’s milieu, there isn’t much of a difference between going on a tour (as in “tourist”) and going on pilgrimage (as in “pilgrim”). Today proved me wrong. The schedule called for us to be grouped by language and then to visit one or two churches on our way to the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls. Our group took the Metro to Santa Maria del Popolo – so called because the money for its construction was raised by the people of Rome. It became a favorite burial place for wealthy Romans, which is reinforced by the neighborhood (Piazza del Popolo) in which it is located. Located in the church are two magnificent Caravaggios – one of the Crucifixion of Saint Peter and the other of the Conversion of Saint Paul. I found the latter to be particularly striking. Paul is on the ground, the horse looming over him. The light is concentrated on Paul’s face which is in agony. I also thought the Augustinians (who operate the church) were quite clever in their approach to raising the necessary funds to maintain these magnificent paintings…the light in the side chapel where they are contained is operated by inserting a certain amount of coins in a box next to the switch. From there we made our way to the Basilica Church of San Silvestro in Capite which contains what is said to be the skull of Saint John the Baptist (a pious if somewhat gruesome display). We gathered near the sanctuary for the first of two prayer services (the next one will be at Saint Paul’s). What struck me about this point in the pilgrimage was the shared sense that what we were doing was “right and just” to quote the Psalmist. I can’t imagine a similar sense of comfort were we to repeat this moment in, say, Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in New York. I became aware of a certain sense that, in Rome, these churches may have been built for many – and not always noble – reasons, but now they are for pilgrims like us who want to be reminded of the reasons we are Catholic and seek a deeper experience of faith. This insight became even stronger when we arrived at Saint Paul’s.

Built over the tomb of Saint Paul the Apostle, the Basilica is one of the most astonishing churches I have ever seen. Smaller than Saint Peter’s its floor plan is clearly designed to impress and awe. It was destroyed by fire in the early 1800s and its reconstruction clearly reflected the architectural values of the nineteenth century. It is more monument than church, but (unlike Saint Peter’s) it is an amazingly prayerful place. Groups are allowed entry a few at a time – which supports the prayerful atmosphere. The grave of Saint Paul is located directly beneath the transept of the church. Its excavation resulted in a below grade shrine which requires the pilgrim to descend a series of semi-circular steps. It (barely) accommodated the seventy of us and what took place then was one of the most amazingly prayerful experiences I have ever encountered. We listened to a reading from the Epistles of Saint Paul as well as to the recitation of psalm verses in all three “official” languages, and then a reading from De La Salle’s first Meditation for the Time of Retreat. As this was happening, the next group of pilgrims had arrived and stood above us observing our prayer. I had the same sense I had at San Silvestro – this was a perfectly appropriate thing to be doing at this moment in time. As we prayed and sang together, I looked up to the magnificent ornate ceiling and found myself noting that – unlike any other church we had visited so far – the elegance of this church made sense in light of its homage to the Apostle to the Gentiles.

As we left the Basilica I found myself unusually quiet – the entire experience was so unexpected (remember my “thing” about tourism) that I was overwhelmed by the various thoughts and feelings bouncing around in my heard. That moment was short-lived as we boarded the #918 bus for what would prove to be the bus-ride from hell (there’s a theme emerging here). I’ve tried to keep these posts brief but today’s experience was simply too complex to do so.

All Roads Lead to Rome...

All roads may lead to Rome but that doesn’t mean the bus lines within the City make any sense. Today’s conference schedule called for two sessions – one in the morning and one at 4:30 PM. With lunch at 1:00 pm (dinner is at 7:30 PM), there was only a short window of two hours to see anything. Ann Merchlewitz from Saint Mary’s, Winona and I decided to take the Metro to Saint Peter’s and walk to Castel Sant'angelo – Hadrian’s Tomb turned into the Pope’s fortress. It was a brilliantly sunny day, which caused the memory of the last three days of rain to immediately fade. We arrived at the Castel safely enough, climbed to the top of the fortress to get a million dollar view of the City of Rome. The return, however, was a little more adventurous than either Ann or I had anticipated. We decided to take the #46 bus (the one I took the other day) rather than the subway. All was well until Ann spied the sign for the McDonald’s (which is located directly east of the Motherhouse). Unfortunately, the bus took a left turn before reaching the fast food stop and sent us well into foreign territory. We got off as soon as we could and made our way back to the nearest bus stop going in the opposite direction; got on the #49 which was headed towards Via Aurelia and prayed that we would get to where we needed to be. Fortunately we guessed correctly and other than experiencing more drama than the sunny day deserved, got back in time for the 4:30 PM session. At that session we (finally) learned the primary purpose of our presence at CIL. Brother Charles Kitson, newly appointed Secretary for the Lasallian Family and Association, explained that the most recent General Chapter set as an Institute priority defining the context within which Brothers and lay partners (like me) work together to further the Lasallian Mission. Charlie noted that there are a variety of movements throughout the Institute (read “world”) that are reflective of the charism and vision of Saint John Baptist de La Salle. His focus for the next six years is to support these opportunities and create connections between and among them. The addition of 30 lay people to the CIL experience is intended to be one of several steps that will move this initiative forward. I suspect we’ll learn more about this as the month unfolds.

I feel compelled to comment on the use of the term "Lasallian Family". Most people who have heard me talk about La Salle, Pasadena, know that I am fond of using the word "family" to describe the environment that our administrators, teachers, students and parents create on a daily basis. To learn that the same metaphor is being used at the Center of the Institute encourages me to look at the world we create at La Salle as one that is reflective of the larger Lasallian world we occupy. I am looking forward to learning more about how this metaphor is used by those responsible for the world-wide Institute.

* The picture is taken from the top of Castel Sant'angelo. Visible in the center is the Victor Emmanuel Monument (called the "wedding cake"). To the left of it is the Pantheon (round, flattened dome)

Of Conga Lines & Forced Marches

Today’s forced march was led by Brother Bernard from Australia. He had clearly put the previous three months to good use as he was extraordinarily knowledgeable about the sites we visited. We took the bus to the Piazza Navona (public transportation in Rome is an extremely convenient, if hair-raising experience) said to be Rome’s most iconic plaza; it was merely a stopping off point for our main objective – the Pantheon. A better temple than church (it was Christianized in the 7th century), the draw is the semi-sphere domed ceiling and oculus (circular opening in the center) built of brick somewhere around 125 AD. I was stunned by the thought of how it was constructed without anything more sophisticated than ropes, pulleys, and wood ramps. The rain pouring through the oculus made for an interesting indoor water fall.

We made our way to the Trevi Fountain where a packed crowd were throwing coins over their shoulders like drunken sailors. Since it took almost 30 years for me to return to Rome after the last time I threw coins (as I recall, I only threw one and not the requisite three - that may explain a lot), I decided fate was as good as chance in a future return to the Eternal City.

Jeff, the principal of Saint Johns in DC and a Jesuit alum, was interested in the nearby church of Saint Ignatius. Its trompe l’oeil ceiling was astonishing. It took several minutes for me to realize that a cherub’s foot was only painted on the ceiling and not actually dangling 100 feet above me. We ended our “march” at the Spanish Steps, which of course, we climbed. By this point, my feet were in open rebellion, as we headed to the subway and back to the Motherhouse.

That evening the “Cilists” threw a welcome party for us in one of the basement rooms of the Motherhouse. We were greeted with the request to wear a Mardi Gras mask (I didn’t) and a colored square piece of paper with a name on it. The goal was to “discover” the other person by matching the colored square and name. I managed to look busy as the chaos ensued and was relieved when the exercise ended. I scored a beer (warm) and one of the chairs that lined the walls of the room (the center was left open – I presume – for the dancing that was sure to follow). Tim Tarmey found his way to the chair next to me where we proceeded to catch up after 20 years. This idyll was ended when, in a burst of enthusiasm, one of the Spanish participants threw confetti in my face and dragged me to the dance floor where a rather unsuccessful Conga line was attempting to snake its way around the room. As soon as the Spaniard turned her back to join the Conga line, I bolted for the exit and the quiet of my room.

Aqui Estoy , Senor

If nothing else leaves a lasting impact on me as a result of this experience in Rome, it will be my encounter with people from North & South America, Europe, Australia, the Middle East and Africa. I was struck by the variety of languages being spoken at meals. With more than 70 participants in this program, dinner can begin to resemble the Biblical story of the Tower of Babel. This morning's opening session was particularly striking because of the availability of instantaneous translation. Booths in the back of the "CIL" Conference Room provided space for translation services in English, Spanish and French. It was fascinating to observe how quickly the translators followed the words of the speaker. Brother Michael French, the Director of "CIL" is able to translate into all THREE of the official languages! I felt sorry for Brother Gaetano, the only Italian brother out of all 34 "Cilists" participating in the full six month program. He has a bare bones knowledge of Spanish and no comprehension of French or English. This doesn't deter him from speaking to ANYONE at LENGTH in Italian. It appears a nod of the head and an occasional "scuzi"? is all he requires. Everyone appreciates the irony of an Italian Brother unable to communicate in his own Motherhouse situated on the outskirts of Rome! It would be easy to trivialize the importance of the variety of languages spoken at this conference by noting the "international" flavor of the Institute or the "diversity" of the people following in the footsteps of Saint John Baptist de La Salle. For me, the presence of so many different languages is becoming an opportunity to pay close attention to the challenges of communicating with people from different backgrounds and cultures (a modest and semi-serious example of how we Americans take things for granted is to be found in this advice to future travellers to Italy - avoid eating cereal in the morning if it requires milk!). In a way, I find the presence of so many "voices" (English teachers know what I mean) to be a remarkable opportunity to become more assertive in my own efforts to understand what is being said (many know that my listening skills are not my best feature). What is truly remarkable is the intense interest on the part of everyone involved in this conference to be able to communicate with each other. Since this conference is being produced by a religious congregation, we spend at least some time in communal prayer. Today's prayer service, which included spoken parts from all three "official" languages, emphasized the importance of serving the Mission of Saint John Baptist de La Salle. Consequently, a refrain repeated throughout echoed the words of the prophet, Samuel: "Here I am Lord." Each language group had an opportunity to speak the words in their native tongue. I was struck by the reverence by which each language group approached the refrain. As the morning wore on, I began to focus my attention on the "affective" domain of a group of people whose only common language was that of body language, tone of voice, and the ability to distinguish themselves through highly nuanced behaviors. We had another "forced march" today and (what appears to be) a "typical" European version of a party. More on these items when I wake up! * The picture above is taken at sunset from the Spanish Steps. I wanted to go to Harry's American Bar, but the group trudged on instead!

Oh Susanna...

Today was a brilliant, sunny day - chilly but spring-like...a relief after the soaking rains of yesterday. I discovered the happy coincidence of our decision to attend Mass at the Church of Santa Susanna - the "American" church in Rome. Under the care of the Paulists, Santa Susanna provides English language services for the American ex-patriots. The first coincidence was realizing that January 25th meant that we were celebrating the feast of the conversion of Saint Paul in a Paulist parish. The second coincidence was the discovery that today's liturgy concluded the Paulists' celebration of the 150th anniversary of their foundation. Everything happens in "threes" so it was particularly delightful to be reminded that this was all happening in the midst of the "Pauline Year" declared by Pope Benedict XVI. Over the years I have heard from Catholic pilgrims how the experience of Mass on a pilgrimmage can be profoundly more different than when it is experienced as a tourist. I haven't really thought much about that dynamic as I never anticipated the possibility that I would participate in a pilgrimmage (the experience of a month in Rome is beginning to feel very much like a pilgrimmage) - so it came as a surprise to me that the experience of Mass at Santa Susanna began to pull me deeper into the liturgy in ways I would not have anticipated. I particularly focused my thoughts on the Responsorial Psalm of that day's liturgy: Teach me your ways O Lord. As I thought about the reason I was in Rome for a month, that refrain encouraged me to be more attentive to what the possible outcomes of this month-long conference could mean for the Christian Brothers, for me and for La Salle High School Knowing that a La Salle alum, Father Greg Apparcel, CSP is the pastor at Santa Susanna, I was hoping to encounter him at Mass. Alas, no such luck. I resolved to return to the parish and introduce myself to him. My research into the story behind Santa Susanna produced a surprisingly entertaining story regarding a property dispute between the Cistercian nuns resident at Santa Susanna and the Paulist community. It involved the changing of locks and other unpleasantries - something one might expect in the Medieval period - however I am coming to realize that Rome is "Rome" no matter what the year. In this case, it was as recently at 1985! You can read all about it at: http://www.initaly.com/regions/latium/church/susanna.htm After lunch at the Motherhouse (more pasta!), Brother Bob Schieler, General Councilor for the US/Toronto Region invited a number of us to join him in a "walk" around Rome. It felt a little more like a "forced march" as Bob is quite a brisk walker. While more than a few aches and pains surfaced during the 2 hour hike - it was all worth while. Starting at Villa Pamphilii Park - a magnificent Villa surrounded by acres of rolling hills, the greenery stretched for miles before us - Bob not giving a hint as to how far we would be walking - it turned out to be a maginficent (if achingly painful) walking tour of Rome, ending at the Vatican. By that point, I had had it; so when the others chose to visit Saint Peter's, I happily took Bob's directions to the # 46 bus (you catch it on the other side of the wall from the Pope Paul VI Audience Hall) back to the Motherhouse where a beer and a shower awaited me.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen...

The start of my visit to the Eternal City went off without a hitch. When I arrived in Dulles to connect to the international flight I was delighted to see that Tina Bonacci '94 was on the same plane. We caught up on her work with the Midwest District while enroute. Tina was a godsend because our arrival at Fiumicino Airport, though flawless, put us on the ground a half hour early. And even after waiting for 45 minutes, we somehow missed seeing the Christian Brother who was sent to take us to the Motherhouse. Thankfully Tina took charge, eluded the "gypsy" cab drivers and hailed a "licensed" cab. Under her direction the cabbie got us to the Christian Brothers' Motherhouse (the accepted moniker here on Via Aurelia is "the Generalate". It sounds a bit too militaristic for my taste; so I'll use the older reference in these posts). The Motherhouse is massive in size. Shaped somewhat like a squared off "W" with an enormous chapel in the center, the building supports four major occupants: the Brothers who are assigned to perform various tasks in central administration & the General Council who occupy the front of the building, the Brothers attending "CIL" ("Centro Internazionale Lasalliano") which is a spiritual and professional development program for Brothers in their midlife, who occupy the left side of the "W" (It is this group that 30 lay people like myself will be joining for the next 25 days. More on that after I attend the orientation session.). Lastly, there is the hotel - "Casa per Ferie La Salle" which occupies the right side of the "W" ( in the picture, you can see it just beyond and slightly above the chapel). The building was designed in the thirties and reflects Mussolini-inspired Italian architecture of the period. I was pleased to be assigned a corner room (with TWO windows) on the "CIL" side. As one would expect in a religious house, the rooms are spartan but comfortable. There is a school just on the other side of the gardens facing my room. As I write this, I am surrounded by the sounds of children playing during recess (even in the rain!) at the Lasallian elementary school adjacent to the Motherhouse grounds. Happily, two Brothers that I knew on the East Coast are here in Rome. Brother Timothy Tarmey from the New York District is a "CIL" participant and Brother Charles Kitson of the Long-Island/New England District is in charge of the Secretariat for the Lasallian Family (allied groups around the world who share in the Lasallian charism). Some of the American participants are gathering for lunch (even though it's 3:30 AM in California!)