If "War is hell," why do we keep doing it?

Monte Cassino before & after

Even after a waterlogged visit to Assisi, twenty of us could not be put off by visiting Monte Cassino. Bob Schaefer had suggested the visit since it was a short bus trip away and the site where Saint Benedict wrote his Rule for Monks. Having worked at a Benedictine school in Northern California, it was a natural for me to go. It was a fascinating, but unsettling experience. First, it was bombed into oblivion during World War II and then was rebuilt exactly as it was before its destruction. This gave (for me) a strange sense of the place being just a little too new (Pope Paul VI re-consecrated it in 1964) and, as it was rebuilt for over 200 monks (only 20 currently live there and a few look as if their Medicare card has expired), the whole thing felt as if it had outlived its useful life (obviously, as an historical artifact, it has much to say about monasticism, the preservation of culture and the horrors of war). The recently elected Abbot is young – mid-forties – which made the conventual mass we attended even more unusual. The high altar (obviously) had been installed exactly where it had been before the bombing – which placed it between the monks’ choir and the nave of the church where lay people could assist at Mass. Rather than relocate the altar, the Abbey has chosen to celebrate liturgy facing the monks and with the priest’s back to the people. It was all very reverent and prayerful and felt as if we had travelled back in time.

*The Church & a portion of the town of San Pietro Infine 60 years after the

bombing

From there we travelled to the ruins of the Medieval village San Pietro Infine (we actually visited to two WWII cemeteries – but there’s only so much you can say about dead people – especially when it’s raining). San Pietro, on the other hand, was a profoundly unsettling experience. Complete destroyed by Allied bombing over ten days (the Germans had fortified their position there, preventing the Allies from travelling up the spine of Italy), the villagers chose to leave the town as it was and rebuild in the valley below. The effect of this was to visit this eerie place where time had stopped. A recently opened museum at the site highlighted the horror of the villagers who hid in the caves below the town. It was a sobering experience for all of us – even as Italy favored us with one of the few brilliantly sunny days of our time together. By the time we returned to the Motherhouse I had resolved that my day trips for the remainder of my time in Rome were over – for the next two weeks, if it’s not in Rome, I’ll have to make a return trip to see it.

What would your father do if you talked to birds?

I’m told that, at CIL, each month contains at least one pilgrimage to a holy site in Italy. February’s pilgrimage has been planned for Assisi. I was excited to hear this as I had been in Assisi almost 30 years ago for a very brief visit (half a day). It was too short a time and so I wanted to take in everything that I had missed the first time (my feet would come to disagree with this strategy). The trip from Rome is a little over two hours and I found myself glad that my sister had given me an IPOD for Christmas. That, and catching up on back issues of The New Yorker, caused the trip to speed by. Our first stop, upon arriving in Assisi, was the Porziuncula, aka Santa Maria degli Angeli. It was given to Saint Francis on the condition that it be made the Motherhouse of the Franciscan Order. Apparently he loved the place because he kept returning to it – even at the time of his death. It’s a tiny chapel surrounded (literally) by the mother of all Basilicas – but even with a massive church overwhelming it, upon entering the space, one is immediately overwhelmed by its sacredness. From there, the bus climbed the hill to the plateau on which the ancient town of Assisi lies. Our first stop was San Damiano – the church which, in a vision, Christ told Saint Francis to rebuild – thus launching his life as a Founder of a religious order. From there we climbed the hill to the center of town – where, it appears there are more churches (including THREE Benedictine monasteries) than one can possibly visit in a day. Bob Schaefer and I focused our attention on the Church of Saint Clare (where she is buried), the town’s Cathedral, the Church of Saint Mary Major (the old Cathedral) – which we never found – and, of course, the Basilica of Saint Francis (I prayed for all of you at every one – so look sharp - God is coming!). Other than the fact that Italians love to wax things (Pope John XXIII, Saint Clare, for example), the pilgrimage was an amazing experience of encountering the sacred in every day life. I remembered from my last trip that the Franciscans are VERY serious about making sure visitors respect the churches by remaining silent (there is one particularly annoying friar in the lower church of the Basilica) – which made the experience of visiting the tomb of Francis especially profound. Eight of us joined up for lunch (which was a welcome respite from a VERY rainy day) and happened across a marvelous trattoria in an alley where we were served three wonderful courses. By four pm we were all ready to get back on the bus and return to the Motherhouse – soggy but very excited about a prayerful journey.

* The front facade of the Porziuncula - you can see the shape of the Basilica surrounding it.

** The cell in the basement of the house where Francis' father locked him up (I think it was over the talking to birds thing)

Travelling through 300 years in 12 hours

Today was a long but fascinating day. It started with a “45 minute” presentation (read: 90 minutes) on Brother Gabriel Drolin by the Postulator General, Brother Rodolfo (he’s the one who advocates for the causes of Lasallian saints with the Vatican). He traced Drolin’s footsteps over his 26 years in Rome which, surprisingly, were largely focused within a five mile radius of Santa Susanna Parish (the “American” church in Rome – see the entry on 1/25). Our pilgrimage was to follow in Drolin’s footsteps and also to visit some of the more modern Lasallian incarnations at the base of the Spanish Steps. We broke up into language groups and off we went. Once off the Metro, the group had a yearning to see the Capuchin Church of the Immaculate Conception (1645), located on Via Veneto, near Barbarini Square – where the bones of 4000 Capuchin Franciscan Friars are arranged in artistic ways, lining the ceiling and walls of the crypts below ground. Lending a mystical sensibility to what is, admittedly, a creepy and amazing “aesthetic” is a sign that captures the whole macabre experience:

What you are now, we once were; what we are now, you shall be.

I had seen the experience when I was last in Rome about 25 years ago and had no desire to do so again, so I went looking for Holly Golightly on the Via Veneto while the group took the 20 minute tour. Next, we were off to Santa Susanna and the footsteps of Drolin. The problem with following a trail that really doesn’t exist in the current moment is that you have to imagine what it must have been like for somebody like Drolin to fend for himself over three hundred years ago. Santa Susanna Parish is in the “fashionable” part of Rome bounded by the Piazza del Repubblica on the South, Piazza del Populo on the North and the Spanish Steps on the East. We had to use our imagination to connect with the experience of a young Brother, on his own, in a foreign land. The Papal School he eventually took control of was located in this parish and has been in continuous operation ever since (albeit in three different locations). It was a little easier to make the connection by the time we got to the Spanish Steps and Collegio San Giuseppe – established by the Brothers in 1882. It has the most amazing chapel for a K-12 school I’ve ever seen. Lunch was the order of the day at that point and we were about to leave Collegio San Giuseppe when one of the Brothers invited us to join them in the school “cafeteria”. It was the nicest cafeteria I’ve ever been in – complete with checkered table cloths and china – the food was worthy of the restaurant we would have been searching for otherwise.

Our group of nine shrank to six as we trooped off to the Villa Borghese to view its art collection. To put it simply, as far as I am concerned, it is one of the most amazing art collections I’ve ever seen. The main floor is devoted to sculptures (largely ancient) and ceiling frescoes; while the second floor is devoted to the Borghese collection of painted works. I spent so much time on the main floor that I was only able to pass through the second – a good reason to return to Rome! Next on the agenda was to regroup with the rest of our number at Santa Susanna for evening mass, presided over by La Salle alum Father Greg Apparcel, CSP ’70 (I finally got to meet him). He gave a wonderful homily on the virtues of a Lasallian education – particularly from his perspective as a student. Our group expanded to 12 and off we went to a trattoria near the Coliseum that Brother Bob and Brother Lazaro had visted once before.

By the time we hit the Metro, an energetic sub-group wanted to see the Vatican at night and I headed towards the Motherhouse and a warm bed.

* Plaque erected on the wall of Drolin's first permanent school to commemorate 300 years of Lasallian education in Rome

** The sanctuary of the chapel at Collegio San Giuseppe

*** Apollo and Daphne - one reason you must visit the Villa Borghese

**** Tina Bonacci '94, Father Greg Apparcel '70 and yours truly after Mass

What would you do if you had to spend 26 years in Rome by yourself?

Today’s session was a preparation for tomorrow’s “Lasallian pilgrimage through Rome.” Virtually simultaneous with De La Salle’s founding of the Brothers of the Christian Schools (1680), he sent a Brother – Gabriel Drolin to Rome (1702) for the twin purposes of establishing a school and, over time, preparing the way for Papal approval of the young religious congregation. While this topic may appear to be out of sync with the issues that we have been considering so far (the historical roots of the vow of Association, the understanding behind the choice of the word “Brother” to characterize the members of the new congregation and its significance in the changing world of the new millennium), in some ways it was a perfect “pit stop” for what we will be studying in the next several sessions (the growing understanding by successive General Chapters of the importance attached to including lay people in the “Shared Mission” of the Christian Brothers): even at an early stage of the Institute’s development, De La Salle was looking towards the future and what needed to be in place to ensure the Mission of providing a “human and Christian education for the young, especially the poor” would outlast him. Our presence at this special session of CIL is a modern expression of that same approach. By walking in the footsteps of Brother Gabriel Drolin, we can connect the challenges of a future only dimly perceived with the experience of the Founder over three hundred years ago. There isn’t room to go into all that we learned about Gabriel Drolin except to say that, by any measure, he was a remarkable man. Born 13 years after De la Salle, Drolin was one of the early participants (1684) in the Founder’s enterprise and quickly earned his trust and affection. He was one of two Brothers, along with De la Salle, who took the “Heroic Vow” (at a terribly low point in the enterprise, De La Salle and two of his most trusted Brothers vowed, in secret to remain together to ensure that the Institute would survive – even if they had to live on bread alone) in 1691 and was one of 12 Brothers who professed perpetual vows with De la Salle in 1694. In 1702, when it appeared that the Institute would survive, De La Salle sent Gabriel and another Brother to Rome. The second Brother lost heart and returned to France. Brother Gabriel remained in Rome for the next 26 years, returning only after the second objective – obtaining the Pope’s approval of the Institute – had been realized. We had only a short afternoon break so I took the opportunity to hop on the Metro to the Vatican, where I’m told, the only reliable postal service in Italy exists, and mailed some postcards. If you don’t get it before I return, blame the Pope. *It's not at all unusual to wander the streets of Rome and come across religious art work attached to public buildings - seemingly at random. This piece of art work- reminiscent of the Della Robbia style - is mounted on the corner of Banco Roma on Via Sistina.

He's not heavy, he's my Brother!

The word “Brother” occupied center stage in today’s presentation by John Cantwell. By the end of the day, it became clear to everyone what his intent was: to show how De La Salle intended the word to mean as applied to members of the Institute and to promote a conversation between and among the 70 of us as to how we will understand the term going forward. The first session was devoted to an analysis of De La Salle’s use of scripture quotations from the Gospel of Matthew. While this may seem an odd place to start, it made enormous sense by the end of the session. John provided an analysis of Matthew’s Gospel, showing that he used the word “brother” more than any of the other three Evangelists. Then John showed that, in his writings, De La Salle quoted the Gospel of Matthew more than any of the other Evangelists…the point being (remember De La Salle had a doctorate in theology) the Founder wanted to root his understanding of the term “brother” in Matthew’s Gospel so that those who read his writings would clearly understand the importance he attached to the concept. John gave us a quote from Canon Blain, De La Salle’s first biographer, who made this point beautifully:

In this way, the name Brothers of the Christian Schools became henceforth the official name of the children of De La Salle…This name teaches them the excellence of the duty they have assumed, the dignity of their state, and the holiness proper to their profession. It tells them as Brothers they owe each other mutual proofs of tender but spiritual friendship and that considering themselves as the elder brothers of the children who came to be taught by them; they should exercise this ministry of charity with truly loving hearts.

What does this have to do with the half of us not called “Brother?” John posed two challenging questions for us in the afternoon session:

In light of current circumstances:

What is the role of the ones who are named “Brother?”

What are the complementary roles of their brothers and sisters (in the Gospel sense: all those who accompany them – in this case, lay partners)?

When placed on top of yesterday’s session in which we looked at the vow of Association, the focus, at least for me, is becoming clear: how do we - Brothers and lay colleagues - work together to ensure the vision and charism of Saint John Baptist de La Salle is carried forward into an uncertain future?

Someone had the brilliant idea to go out for Chinese food tonight (yes – there are Chinese restaurants in Rome!). There’s only so much pasta one can eat! Ten of us trooped off to one just around the corner from the Motherhouse. Fortunately, Brother Andrew from Malaysia provided all the expertise we needed for ordering – which was especially important since the name of the restaurant was, disconcertingly, Hung Hwa Chinese Pizzeria (I think they stuck that in there to snare the Italians).

* Brother Vincent (Vietnam) Brother Bernie (Australia), Bill Gault (New York), Brother Ed (Midwest), Tina Bonacci ’94 (Midwest), Brother Jean-Marie(Congo) in front of Saint Paul Outside the Walls

To Associate or not...that is the question

We began our work in earnest today. Charlie Kitson distributed the results of the survey on “Association and Lasallian Family” that we had completed earlier. The context of this endeavor is important in order to understand the challenge we were asked to debate. Unique among religious orders, the Christian Brothers profess a vow of association – meaning that they commit themselves to support the Mission of the Institute (the “human and Christian education of the young, especially the poor”) wherever it sponsors ministries. This is more than “just” the vow of obedience, common to every religious order. The Christian Brothers commit themselves to supporting every school or ministry in their region not just the one they are assigned to. In this sense, it is not at all uncommon to hear the Brothers talk about “our” school in San Francisco or “our” school in Pasadena…as if they were assigned to that location. It’s a difficult concept to explain. What is not difficult is the deep emotional reservoir the concept of “Association” stirs up in the Brothers – it is (one of) their unique elements which distinguishes them from other religious communities and binds them together.

So, to talk about the concept of “Association” in a meeting of Lasallians in which half do not take on themselves the vow of “Association” is, to say the least, a challenge. The survey was an attempt to determine how this concept is understood in the various provinces around the world as they invite lay people to share the Mission ever more closely. Needless to say, the data was all over the place. It appeared that some regions have taken some steps towards including lay people under the umbrella of “Association” while others (the US/Toronto Region) have not. There was even greater diversity of opinion around the notion that some appropriate symbol of inclusion should be created so that lay people who feel so inspired by the charism of Saint John Baptist de La Salle would be offered, where appropriate. Good old practical Americans were largely of the opinion that things are fine the way they are now and that any notion of applying the Brothers’ concept of “Association” to lay people in our Region is best left to informal customs that make clear all are included in the Mission of the Institute.

I imagine this must seem very arcane and, in some ways, not unlike two bald men fighting over a comb. In reality, it is a very important issue and explains, in part, why we are spending a month together. The Brothers are very serious about “Sharing the Mission” and want to have confidence that, as we lay people become more responsible for the works entrusted to their care, the vision of De La Salle will remain steadfast now and in the future. This is all heady stuff – fortunately they have the custom of serving red wine at dinner (unfortunately, it comes in plastic pitchers).

* Ann and friend on the Piazza del Popolo

This is the place to be if your city is being sacked...

The rain has returned and is expected to last through the rest of the week. Tina Bonacci ’94 organized a day trip to the Medieval city of Orvieto in the Umbrian hills. There were 12 of us, speaking all three “official” languages. Her knowledge of Rome and its transportation system is invaluable. After a week I still get confused by the Metro. Not only did Tina get us to Termini (Rome’s amazing train station) via Metro but facilitated our purchase of tickets (a daunting task when the kiosk machine uses only Italian…and prompts for a series of responses in Italian) and negotiated the crowds to get us to the correct train – which did not list Orvieto but its final destination – Florence. Every visitor to Rome should experience Termini…it is an amazing place. It is as crowded as LAX or any major American airport. The interior looks as modern as any American airport and it bustles with as many people as one would ordinarily expect to find at Chicago’s O’Hare airport. The trains themselves are in very good condition and about as comfortable to sit in (or not) as American trains. The ride, however, was amazingly smooth (an experience I don’t typically associate with the few times I’ve been on an American train). The 90 minute trip zipped by and, before we knew it, we were in Orvieto. Tina ushered us through the process of buying a ticket on the Funicular and the connecting bus which would get us to the top of the plateau on which sits the medieval portion of Orvieto. We were instantly transported back in time (I know, cliché but true!) to the thirteenth century. We took the tour of the city’s underground caves (there are over 1200 of them, that archaeologists know of) which were carved out of the volcanic ash that covered the plateau over 200,000 years ago. They were used for a variety of purposes from the raising of pigeons (don’t ask), water storage, olive oil production and defense against siege. One fabulous example of this last purpose occurred during the sack of Rome in 1527 by the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, Pope Clement VII fled Rome and took refuge at Orvieto (oh, those crazy Catholics!). We arrived a little late for mass in the “Duomo” – the city’s Cathedral…but the entertainment value was phenomenal! In this enormous church, there were, maybe, 100 people (locals apparently sat in the half-dozen pews directly under the transept, while tourists were relegated to orange plastic chairs lined into about two dozen rows farther back in the nave. The priest’s homily lasted a good 20 minutes and contained a fair amount of haranguing of the few people who appeared to understand him. As he was speaking a VERY elderly woman went from one pew to the next with what appeared to be a collection basket (it looked more like a hat to me and I DON’T want to know where it ultimately ended up). You could not receive the parish bulletin until you coughed up some coins and she clearly expected them to add up to more than a Euro. It’s important to understand the visual here. In the US, an usher passes a basket or a container on the end of a long arm, so as not to disturb the worshippers in the pew. This woman walked through each pew and expected you to get out of her way as she climbed over you. She was a little slow so that, by the time the consecration of bread and wine occurred, she was just getting to our pew. It was obvious that we were expected to remain standing until she had passed through. Mass over, Tina arranged for us to have lunch at a wonderful restaurant near the edge of the plateau. I had the best veal I’ve had in a long time. We also were treated to the local wine produced in the vineyards surrounding the plateau – une vera bont`a! The trip back was as pleasant as the earlier one and more than one head was nodding off soon after we left the train station.