We Have Met the Enemy & They is Us

I can’t wait for this election to be over. Don’t misunderstand me – I’ve been glued to the news channels on television and radio for the better part of the last six months – and one reason why I look forward to November 5th is what I consider to be the excessive length of time it took to get from the first Primary to Election Day. And while I believe that American voters would be better served by a relatively brief election cycle (such as in Britain, where it is six weeks), that doesn’t fully explain my desire to see this election season come to a close.


My political exhaustion stems from the incredibly polarized context within which this presidential contest is being negotiated. While I recognize that the art of politics requires that the choice of candidates needs to be presented in stark terms; it is hard for me to watch the debates and view television ads which imply that support for the other side will lead to moral, economic and political ruin. After all, the nation survived the election of 1868 which put Ulysses S. Grant (a man better suited for the battlefield than the halls of government) in office, as well as the disputed election of 1876 that put Rutherford B. Hayes in office. More recently, while the election of Herbert Hoover in 1928 didn’t directly lead to the Great Depression, historians regard his failure to respond effectively to this calamity as one of the great presidential failures.

The point, I think, is obvious: the strength of the American political system is to be found in its resilience. We understand that politicians are as flawed as we are – yet when it comes to the ballot box, we seem to ignore that rational understanding and invest entirely too much energy into the “Great Man” theory – that one man (or woman) can singlehandedly fix our problems. Recently, I was listening to a radio presentation of a panel discussion of Republican and Democratic economists who were debating the causes of our current financial crisis. At the end of the session, the moderator – a student at Georgetown University – summarized the conversation by expressing gratitude that the panel could disagree agreeably. I sensed a note of astonishment in her voice. That’s why I can’t wait for this election to be over. Somehow we have allowed the public debate about our Nation’s future to become a shouting match regarding who’s right and who’s wrong. Last time I checked, neither political party (nor their leadership) could fall back on a sterling record regarding their prognostication skills. And that’s the point: we, the consumers of political messages, allow our elected officials to distract us from the central fact that neither red nor blue states have a lock on the Truth. We do this because the issues are complex and complicated and it is stressful for us to try to figure them out. Yet, the desire to consider these challenging social problems in a simplified way often results in outcomes we never expected.

While it is easy to look at religious world views through the same, cynical lens, there are perspectives which remind us that, in the end, we are responsible for the people we elect. The Catholic Bishops in the United States issued a pastoral letter entitled:



Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship



The document offers three statements, in particular, which clarify our responsibility as citizens and Catholics:



We do not tell Catholics how to vote. The responsibility to make political choices rests with each person and his or her properly formed conscience.



and:



As Catholics we are not single-issue voters. A candidate’s position on a single issue is not sufficient to guarantee a voter’s support.



and:



Conscience is a judgment of reason whereby the human person

recognizes the moral quality of a concrete act. . . . [Every person] is obliged to follow faithfully what he [or she] knows to be just and right”



What I find particularly encouraging in these statements – and in the document as a whole – is the Bishops’ clear recognition that we are responsible for the government we put in place and we cannot abandon that task in search of simple answers. So, while I can’t wait for the election to be over, I can find some peace in the notion that glib answers in debates or advertising cannot be substituted for our individual responsibility to choose wisely, carefully, and with a great deal of thought.

All You Have to Do is Show Up

It was 4:00 PM when I left the school building a week ago Friday. I happened to be walking through the Ahmanson Science Hall when I noticed a half-dozen Freshmen sitting on the floor, intently examining the computer screen of a laptop in front of them. One of the group noticed the puzzled look on my face and hastened to explain that they were working on a Science project. I smiled, wished them well, and continued on my way. As I passed the Atrium of the Dining Hall, there were three upperclassmen, seated at a picnic table laughing at a story being told by a fourth. Next, I passed the Blakeslee Library where a trio of girls was attempting to share two earplugs connected to an Ipod. As I made my way to my car, I could hear a coach’s whistle halting a Girls Volleyball practice in the Duffy Lewis Gymnasium. Out on Lancer Field, I could hear Pat Wickhem announcing the start of the JV Football Game. Did I happen to mention that it was 4:00 PM on a Friday?


Later, when I returned at 7:00 PM to watch the Varsity lose a heartbreaker against San Marino, I noticed that not only were the stands packed with La Salle students and parents (and, I should point out a Drum Line that was clearly having way too much fun performing for the fans) but the area in front of the Concession stand was so jammed with freshmen that we could have easily conducted a Class Assembly on the spot. As I walked home that evening, I thought about each of these scenes and with a clarity that happens typically when I trip and fall, I asked myself how I got so lucky.

I’ve often said that being President of a school like La Salle in a community like Pasadena is really quite easy – all you have to do is show up. Meaning that the sense of community at La Salle – as in Pasadena – is so completely tangible that, as the School’s chief promoter, all I have to do is nurture the overlapping circles created by La Salle’s interaction with the wider community it serves. At a time of day when some schools take on the look of a ghost town, La Salle – the school that never sleeps – is buzzing with activity. I’ve long since stopped fussing about the School’s gates being open on a Sunday – for I know that some thing is always going on.

I am lucky – not so much because La Salle is a perpetual beehive of activity – but because students and adults want to be here. I get to promote a school community that celebrates individuals coming together for a common purpose. I’ve always remembered the advice Pete Griffith, P ’00, ’03 gave me shortly after my arrival at La Salle: “Richard, you don’t understand something. When our kids are happy, we’re happy.” It goes without saying that, by definition, teenagers go through volatile swings of emotion – often in the same day! So, the notion that teenagers can be happy requires some parsing. Perhaps the best way for adults to get their arms around the notion of adolescent happiness is to observe those moments when they are looking forward to something – a sweet sixteen birthday party, a date with the Captain of the Football team, the chance to perform at Café Bibliotheque, being in the starting lineup at Homecoming, to suggest a few. Similarly, when they are disappointed that an enjoyable activity comes to an end – Prom, a pep rally, or a graduation party come to mind. At La Salle we can take a rough measure of adolescent happiness by noting their presence on campus long after the school day ends or – strangely enough – by their determination to go to school, even when a head cold makes them sound like bleating sheep. There’s a certain magic that happens at La Salle each moment when adults and teenagers come together to pursue a common purpose.

I’ve often remarked that 50% of my own success is due to luck – some would argue it’s more like 95% - whichever – I can assure you that when I observe our students at work, at play, or socializing with each other and think about the 24/7 world of La Salle, I know I am very lucky indeed.

Bothersome Friends

Saint John Baptist de La Salle, the Founder of the Christian Brothers, was a prolific writer, authoring hundreds of letters as well as documents – like The Conduct of Christian Schools – which had a lasting influence on the Brothers, long after his death. An essential concept promoted throughout the Founder’s writings is the notion that the Brothers should be “obliged to look upon themselves as the older brothers of those who come to their classes.” The imagery of this concept is rich in the kinds of relationships we imagine occur in the ideal family. What better way to characterize the kind of nurturing relationship between teacher and student imagined by De La Salle than to liken it to that of an older brother? In the ideal, an older brother takes us by the hand, encourages us to develop our God-given talents, keeps us from harm, and watches over us constantly. For De La Salle, this is precisely what he asked the early Brothers to imitate as they entered their classroom each day.

Fast forward three hundred years and listen to the words of Brother Álvaro Rodríguez Echeverría, FSC, Superior General of the Christian Brothers, describe the student-teacher relationship:

“A beautiful Lasallian image is that of the bothersome friend… We need to be bothersome for the sake of the children whom we educate in order to obtain what might be necessary for them, without counting the difficulties or the inconveniences it might cause for us….”

Both the image of the older brother and bothersome friend formed the foundation of the annual Faculty/Staff Retreat conducted by Student Life Director Ed O’Connor just prior to the start of the 2008-2009 year. I was struck by these images (updated slightly by including older sister in their iteration) as Ed challenged us to answer three questions:

1. How have I acted as a big brother or sister to the students entrusted to my care?

2. What motivates me to be a big brother or sister to my students?

3. What makes it difficult for me to be a big brother or sister to my students?

Working in a school like La Salle, it is easy to take for granted the family metaphors we frequently use to describe the educational experience of the students entrusted to our care. Because they are so familiar to us and because we make assumptions about their efficacy, we need to be reminded from time to time of their power and of the “awe-full” responsibility they require us to shoulder. So, as I spent the day with my colleagues wrestling with these three questions, I began to realize that De La Salle’s vision for the Brothers - and their lay colleagues - required more than a simple acknowledgement of its utility to the task of educating students. His vision is as fresh today as it was 300 years ago because, in the words of one Lasallian author:

“What we have here is…a Christian anthropological view which is the basis for…personal relationships.” 

 While the concept of “Christian anthropology” is the stuff of research papers, in terms of our use of family metaphors to describe the student-teacher relationship in a Lasallian school, it is as simple as De La Salle’s understanding that, if we see everything with the “eyes of faith,” then we become grounded in a spirituality which recognizes that God’s Spirit transcends categories and social divisions. We are older brothers and sisters – and sometimes a “bothersome friend” - to the students entrusted to our care because we see God in them as easily as we see God in ourselves. We are grounded in a relationship that demands the kind of care and concern an older sibling offers to her sister or brother.

The Faculty/Staff Retreat concluded with a ritual in which each of us deposited in a basket a card containing an individual resolution to be a better older brother or sister in some specific way during 2008-2009. I can’t think of a better way to welcome our students back to their home away from home. Happy New Year!

Enter to Learn; Leave to Serve

A recent poll conducted by the Pew Research Center for the People & the Press revealed that of those adult respondents surveyed:

Just 27% say they are satisfied with national conditions, while 66% are dissatisfied.

Positive views of the state of the nation have been mired at about 30% for most of the past two years; in December 2006, 28% said they were satisfied with the way things were going in the country, while 65% were dissatisfied.


It’s easy to see why… the Iraq war shows no sign of an end on the horizon, the sub-prime crisis has spiraled into a liquidity problem for the financial services sector, and unemployment is edging up while the Federal Reserve is becoming concerned about the possibility of rising inflation. Sounds to me like the 1970s called and they want their problems back!

Closer to home the rapidly escalating price of gasoline has caused both Ford and General Motors to scale back production on popular sport utility vehicles as the market for them is verging on collapse. And, consumer confidence is at a 16 year low. As the nation turns its attention to the upcoming presidential contest between Senators Obama and McCain, more and more pundits are describing the election as a dramatic choice between stability and change.

Whether that description is true, or not, remains to be seen. That having been said, there can be little doubt that our national dilemma regarding the direction the country should be taking provides an historic opportunity to define the relationship between shared civic values and the collective good. The problem, however, clusters around a conundrum: whose civic values? ... and which collective good?

The dreary state of the national attitude towards our near-term future may appear to be an odd topic for a column in the Parent Newsletter - which essentially ushers in the 2008-2009 academic year (note all those forms included with the Newsletter that must be filled out before the first day of school!). Encountering a new year – whether it occurs on January first or August 21st – is an opportunity to make resolutions, to remind ourselves of the priorities we have set, and, significantly, to embrace the opportunity to establish a new direction. I’ve grown fond of wishing students “Happy New Year” on the first day of school; not only because it startles them into recognizing that they are embarking on a new school year, but also because the same sense of hope and optimism which typically accompanies the cheers of well wishers in January can be found in the more sedate and purposeful behaviors of students and teachers in August.

A new school year makes it easy, however, for students, teachers and parents to focus their attention on the matters at hand – new faces, new responsibilities, new textbooks – and to miss the obvious at a place like La Salle ... we are also charged with forming the next generation of socially responsible citizens. Our Mission Statement makes this clear:

Motivated by a spirit of faith and zeal, our students are informed by and made responsible for the world in which they live.

Over the course of four years La Salle students will be exposed to a variety of learning experiences that reinforce this noble goal; yet the pressing issues which command our attention every time we turn on the television can seem too great for a teenager to ponder. If we remain focused on the larger context of our Mission: to produce good students and good people, we can get our intellectual arms around global issues – if only to remind ourselves that the values nurtured here at La Salle are the very same ones that will facilitate adult conversations regarding the relationship between shared civic values and the collective good.

What better place to launch a conversation about a future world that isn’t at war that, is in harmony with the environment, and promotes cross-cultural cooperation than in a school where students are encouraged to:

Enter to Learn; Leave to Serve

Happy New Year!

Zealous Teachers

For administrators, faculty and staff at La Salle, the last day of school is not when the students finish their final exam but the following Monday when we gather for our end-of-year retreat day. Director of Student Life, Ed O’Connor typically serves as our “retreat master” and organizes the day so that there are plenty of group activities. I particularly like this approach because it affords me the opportunity to listen to my colleagues reflect on the year just ending. These activities were especially interesting this year because the theme of the retreat was The Virtue of Zeal. I’ve written in this space and elsewhere that the Lasallian virtue of Zeal plays an important role in the way schools sponsored by the Christian Brothers seek to fulfill the Mission given them by Saint John Baptist de La Salle. Here is how Brother Agathon, the fifth Superior General of the Christian Brothers, defined Zeal in 1786:


The zealous teacher attends to his or her responsibility for educating the students. The education of youth demands, on the part of those who are charged with their care, the most undivided attention, the most constant efforts and concern for the most minute details.

It should be clear from this description that the pursuit of the virtue of Zeal is what is expected of Lasallian educators. Even the most talented and enthusiastic teacher will only occasionally achieve the “most undivided attention” in the classroom! Some might wonder why we focused on Zeal at a faculty retreat that concludes the year? This, too, is uniquely Lasallian. De La Salle’s vision of education was entirely focused on the future; what will happen down the road as a result of a teacher’s efforts in the here and now. In his Fifteenth Meditation for the Time of Retreat, De La Salle made this observation:

For the future, then, devote yourself with zeal and affection to your work

So, as we ended our year, Ed challenged us to reflect on three tasks:

• naming something in our work that encourages us to be zealous

• naming one or more practices that we use to support our zeal

• identifying something we want to do more of or better when we return to school at the end of August


Now, here’s why I enjoy listening to my colleagues in these group activities: as each small group reported on their conversation together, the overwhelming response to the question of what encourages our zeal involved teacher interactions with students. And, their response to “new year resolutions” involved behaviors that will enable them to expand and deepen their relationship with the students entrusted to their care. As I thought about this remarkable dynamic, it occurred to me that there is another way to frame these comments – teachers at La Salle genuinely like their work and, in particular, care deeply about their students. Not only was this message clear at a time when one could expect teachers to be drained of energy and looking forward to time away from school, but it was articulated by virtually every small group that reported out. And, while we are all human, which keeps us from achieving the state of zeal envisioned by Brother Agathon, it is gratifying to know that the quest is just as important for the dedicated colleagues I am fortunate enough to support. Not a bad way to end a year and an even more exciting way to anticipate the one coming up!

I was a stranger in my own hometown...

I am fond of saying that La Salle is like the “Hotel California” (for Gen Xers who may not be familiar with this reference to the 1976 Eagles hit song – you can look it up on Wikipedia); “you can check out but you can never leave.” For the Eagles, the hotel in question is the state of California and the notion that one “can check out but…can never leave” refers to a particular state of mind which is formed by living in the Golden State for any length of time. To paraphrase the Eagles, you can leave California but California won’t leave you.

I was reminded of this dynamic when I recently returned from a family funeral in New York (I am writing this on my return flight). Aside from the fact that I encountered thunderstorms for the entire weekend I was on the East Coast, it struck me that, after twenty years in California, I had become a stranger in my home town. Mind you, I wasn’t particularly troubled by the experience (the thunder storms in June cured me of that), but I was surprised…especially since it has been more than ten years since I had returned to the small town that marked my elementary and secondary school years.

What I discovered was that, while I missed the experience that, for the better part of twenty years had represented “home” for me, I didn’t need – to paraphrase author F. Scott Fitzgerald – a “second act.” The flight home helped me to see that California is my home now and that; not only did I not need to “check out;” I didn’t need to leave either.

So, what do these ruminations of a quasi-home-sick adult have to do with equating La Salle with the “Hotel California?” The answer, it seems to me, lies in the second annual Mothers of Alumni cocktail party which took place two weeks ago. The event, coordinated by a committee of alumni mothers, is designed to maintain the connection between the parents of our graduating Seniors and the social network that was sustained throughout a four-year involvement in their child’s experience with academics, arts and athletics. The event “inducted” those among the 50+ attendees whose son or daughter had just participated in the 2009 commencement ceremony. As I think about the wonderful spirit which permeated the cocktail party, I began to realize that La Salle can be, for many, the “Hotel California.” Because I have heard – repeatedly – the comment that parents were not ready to “graduate” from La Salle at the same point as their children, I have come to realize that the adults can “check out” but they can’t, necessarily, “leave;” I now realize that the “magic” that is La Salle impacts adults and students alike.

New to this year’s Mothers of Alumni party was the announcement of the Gloria Delaney, P’82, ’85, ’89 Volunteer of the Year award and the creation of the Gloria Delaney, P’82, ’85, ’89 Memorial Scholarship. Both projects are intended to honor the memory of an amazing parent volunteer whose life was prematurely cut short by the ravages of cancer. I won’t take the time in this short space to list the many, wonderful ways Gloria’s involvement at La Salle helped to transform the school (check out the current issue of Lancer Magazine that should be hitting your mailboxes right about now); but I do want to highlight the significance of these two memorial projects. The first – Volunteer of the Year award – was established by the Executive Committee of the Mothers of Alumni Council to honor an “unsung” graduating parent(s) who have quietly and unobtrusively made themselves available for any request the School made of them for volunteer help. (I was thrilled when the Committee nominated Deacon Harry and Seta Kazarian, P ‘09 for the inaugural award). The second – Memorial Scholarship – was established by Gloria’s family to honor her lifelong commitment to the Catholic education of middle income children.

As I juxtaposed the experience of the Mothers of Alumni cocktail party with the need to be present at a family event on the East Coast, I began to recognize that the Eagles were right: we are all shaped by powerful influences that – only with the passage of time – are we able to fully appreciate the ways in which we have been changed by those experiences. So, as La Salle gears up for another school year, I warmly welcome the incoming parents of the Class of 2013 to the “Hotel California”…err…La Salle and hope that you, like legions of parents before you, will come to embrace the marvelous notion that you can “check out” but you can never “leave” this amazing place.

The end of the Blog...

It’s hard to believe that the month has ended. As I noted earlier, it will take some time for me to process the entire experience. I am persuaded that I am bringing back to La Salle a greater appreciation for what makes it special. I can also see better how La Salle can continue to broaden and deepen its existing strengths both academically and spiritually. In the meantime, here’s a (somewhat) lighthearted take on what I’ve learned while staying in the Eternal City: Richard Gray’s top 10 lessons learned... 10. The cobblestone streets of Rome are hell on your feet. Bring a well-broken in pair of sneakers. Docksiders won’t cut it! 9. If you live in Rome, there is no such thing as a priest shortage 8. If Angelenos in cars rule the freeways, Italian pedestrians rule the sidewalks, so be prepared to get out of their way 7. The nice thing about attending a conference in which the participants speak different languages is that no session lasts longer than 45 minutes – otherwise the translators’ heads will explode 6. Europeans know how to produce attractive paper money – our bills looks like somebody spilled tea on them 5. Brother Domingos from Mozambique at 33 years of age speaks 4 languages – I have GOT to get serious about learning Spanish! 4. Cultural differences become real – and demand respect – when you share living quarters with people from 18 different countries, speaking three different languages and taking for granted a wide variety of customs that you’ve never heard of... 3. Like most Catholic Americans I take for granted the virtues of freedom of speech in our society and in our schools…until I listen to the challenge of Christian Brothers in places like Malaysia where they operate government-schools in which instruction in the Muslim religion is required 2. Being exposed to the different works of the Institute reminds me that there are many ways to educate young people And, the number one lesson learned while I’ve been in Rome is… If graduates of Lasallian schools like La Salle, Pasadena, don’t leave us with a healthy respect for spiritual values and the necessity of sharing with others the gifts God has given them, then we haven’t done our job so, as they say in Roma… Ciao, bella – baby (okay, the “baby” part is more Hollywood than Roma) Oh, and BTW…(if you don’t know this acronym, ask any teenager who texts!) it IS possible to eat too much pasta! Thanks for tuning in! * I LOVE this picture! It is taken through a Keyhole (YES...a keyhole!) of the main gate to the Sovereign Military Order of the Knights of Malta (they're the ones who support the work at Lourdes, France) located at the top of the Avetine Hill, framing the dome of Saint Peter's Basilica.

Boo Hoo and Woo Hoo...

Just as I come to the end of my time in Rome, I finally figure out how to get around the city! I actually successfully gave someone directions on the Metro! We have had brilliantly sunny days this past week – although it has been extraordinarily cold. With the sun in full force, I can only imagine what Spring must be like in this city. One of the side benefits of participating in this month-long conference has been the time in the middle of the day to explore Rome, read, think and discuss. In the day-to-day life of a school we have precious little time to do any of the above (especially the explore Rome part!). We’ve been fed a hefty diet of sophisticated concepts and spiritual theories, so the time to digest them has been essential to the whole experience. Walking the streets of Rome with history and Church-related buildings within arms reach has been, for me, a magnificent backdrop for consideration of concepts like “Shared Mission” and “Association.” More importantly, I’ve had the daily opportunity to stare in awe at magnificent churches and monuments and know that La Salle, Pasadena is connected to all of this (in some respects and thankfully, also separated by four time zones!) and is a part of the “Great Commission” noted in the last chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. Not surprisingly, I have mixed reactions about my departure tomorrow. On the one hand, I am really looking forward to getting back into the “trenches” at La Salle (my employees may not all greet that with enthusiasm). On the other hand, this has been an amazing experience on so many levels that it will take me some time to fully process it all. I can say that the month here has made me even more convinced of the power and the promise of Lasallian education. It has also established, for me, a recognition that the world we occupy at La Salle, Pasadena cannot be divorced from the larger, Lasallian world that exists in 83 different countries. Moreover, I now understand – in ways that were only intellectual prior to my participation in this experience – that the gift of Lasallian education gets articulated in a vast number of highly differentiated ways – many of which don’t even look like the traditional school we have come to know and appreciate in Pasadena. Most importantly, it has been a privilege for me to encounter Lasallians – Brothers and laypeople – from around the world who give me renewed hope that what we do in Pasadena matters. Tomorrow will be my last blog (boo hoo) - tune in for Richard Gray's Top 10 Lessons Learned in Rome (with apologies to Dave Letterman). * The 70 of us with the CIL staff on the front steps of the Motherhouse. Even with my glasses, I can't find me (and I know where I was standing!)

What happens when educators share a common vocabulary...

As our reflection on the “what” (serving young people, especially the poor, through education) and the “why” (ensuring the Brothers’ Mission effectively continues as more and more lay people take on the responsibility of running Lasallian schools) of Shared Mission continued today, I began to think about the role of formation (Americans would call it “professional development”) in connecting these two focal points. Because the Christian Brothers in the United States – and especially on the West Coast – have placed substantial emphasis on formation for lay people, those of us serving in Lasallian schools in the US tend to take this component for granted. At La Salle, Pasadena, for example, more than half of all teachers and administrators have participated in one or more formation programs sponsored by the Christian Brothers – some stretching over the course of three years. The subtle effect of this on school culture cannot be underestimated. It becomes a natural part of professional conversations, for example, to emphasize Lasallian priorities (“what is in the best interest of the students entrusted to our care”) and to use Lasallian language (“how can we win their minds and hearts”). That having been said, this month-long experience in Rome has reminded me of how much more we can do to enrich the experience of our students and to remind ourselves of the necessity of situating our college-preparatory program in a context of deep and abiding spiritual values that are non-negotiable. Today’s task was to articulate three statements (Europeans prefer the softer word “affirmations”) identifying the major themes that emerged in the discussions of each language group. Our group came up with the following: o We affirm that vocations should continue to be a focus of the Institute as the role of the Brother is essential to furtherance of shared mission o We affirm that, to preserve the complementarity of the roles of Brothers and Partners, the Institute must commit to broadening and deepening formation for shared mission for both Brothers and Partners o We affirm that, together, Brothers and Partners work to further shared mission and that our work together makes the Institute stronger; but we recognize that Brothers and Partners have distinct roles to play in furtherance of shared mission The themes, (I hope) are obvious: the importance of vocations to the Christian Brothers, the critical need for formation of both Brothers and lay people and that Shared Mission is dependent upon the distinct roles of Brothers and lay people.

*The photo is HALF of the entire painting in the dome of the sanctuary at the chapel of Collegio San Giuseppe near the Spanish Steps. It depicts De La Salle leading Brothers (to the right) and students (to the left and out of range of the camera) to the altar of God. An appropriate image, I should think, to reflect on as we wind down this session on why the Lasallian Mission is so important.

Faith is not only to believe what we do not see...

Today is a “retreat” day (I thought the whole month was a retreat!). We began the day with Brother John Cantwell doing a reflection on the last chapter of the Gospel of Matthew and the “Great Commission” (“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations”) As I thought about this passage in the context of the themes of “Association” and “Shared Mission” it occurred to me that, while the last three weeks have focused on the Brothers’ effort to ensure that their mission “to provide a human and Christian education to the young, especially the poor” continues as more and more laypeople partner with them, it is equally important to consider the question “to what end” is this Mission shared? As I move through my tenth year at La Salle, it has taken me a long time to fully understand the “human and Christian” part of the Lasallian Mission. De La Salle, I now understand, believed that children needed both human and Christian salvation. By that he meant the children entrusted to our care need to be given the skills – through education - to be successful in life so that they would have the time and the opportunity to focus on their spiritual salvation. In seventeenth century France that meant the Catholic Church; in 21st century United States that notion of salvation is broadened to include all paths to God. De La Salle’s genius was in recognizing that poor children will be “far from salvation” as he described it as long as they are denied the means to escape poverty. I spent the day thinking about how this translates to La Salle, Pasadena. Readers of the Parent Newsletter and Lancer Magazine will recall that I frequently write about our twin mission to produce good students and good people. This has been my shorthand way of describing De La Salle’s notion of a “human and Christian” education. This month in Rome and, in particular, today’s time in retreat has helped clarify for me the central importance of this aspect of our effort to make sure that La Salle High School is faithful to the Brothers’ reason for existence – to bring children closer to God. The “what” of “Shared Mission” is as important as the “why?” If La Salle High School isn’t grounded in something larger than an excellent college preparation, then our students would be well served at any of the fine college prep schools in and around Pasadena. We must continually strive to make sure that our students understand that their education is more than just academic – it is also spiritual – and for reasons as powerful today as they were in 1680. Brother Alvaro, the Superior General of the Christian Brothers, opened the 44th General Chapter with these comments: “Our world is becoming a cultural desert with the triumph of consumerism.” “…faith is not only to believe what we do not see, but also to not believe in what we do see, convinced that beyond all appearances, good is gaining ground.”

As I see it, this is a pretty good reason for La Salle High School to continue sharing the Brothers’ Mission for another fifty years.

* This painting - which hangs in one of the smaller chapels in the Motherhouse - depicts De La Salle commissioning two Brothers to go to Rome to establish a school - ensuring that the Institute would one day become world-wide.

The journey may have been long but the progress has been steady.

As I re-read some of the posts, it occurred to me that I haven’t spent enough time highlighting the thread that has been woven through all of the sessions. That thread has been the steady progress toward the concepts of “Shared Mission” and “Association”. It began with the 39th General Chapter (all religious congregations of Pontifical Right are governed by a periodic “General Chapter” which is their chief legislative body – electing Superiors and Councilors - as well as passing “propositions” [legislation] that will be implemented over a certain period of time) in 1967 and has been expanded in each of the next five Chapters, including the most recent, the 44th in 2007. These Chapters have supported the Brothers’ emerging understanding of their role in an educational world which increasingly involves laypeople like me. Here’s a short summary of what has happened since 1967: 39th General Chapter issued the document: The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration calling for the involvement of lay people at all levels in the School. 40th General Chapter acknowledged the presence of laypeople around the Institute who have expressed a desire to become more formally involved with the Brothers. This coincided with the consecration of the first members of Signum Fidei. 41st General Chapter addressed itself to the Lasallian Family, thereby recognizing thousands of persons who were contributing to the Lasallian Mission. 42nd General Chapter treated the theme of Shared Mission and spoke of Partners. For the first time, Consultants (lay people) had the right to speak at a Chapter. 43rd General Chapter issued the following statement: The development of the Lasallian Mission requires the Institute to allow itself to be stimulated by the dynamism apparent among partners and associates, and to encourage and to support collaboration among themselves and with the Brothers 44th General Chapter – relying on the work of the first International Assembly two years earlier (composed of Brothers and lay people) issued the following statement:

We are moving at different speeds towards a new model of the Lasallian family at the local, regional and global levels. At these different levels, co-responsibility, collegiality and shared decision-making for the mission and the living out of our proper, interdependent identities are realities that are experienced with joy. We seek structures of animation and government where the mission is carried forth by all those associated for the mission, where the Lasallian spirituality is shared and enriched, and where the Brothers fulfill their proper role.

In short, for the last 40 years the Christian Brothers have been steadily working towards the full involvement (and responsibility) of lay people in delivering the Lasallian Mission in their schools. As I think about La Salle High School, Pasadena, I realize - now - how powerful (and unusual in the Catholic Church) this orientation is for me, for my colleagues, for the parents, and most especially, for the students entrusted to our care.

*Stained glass window depicting De La Salle and 12 Brothers professing perpetual vows in 1694 (this was just following the "Heroic Vow" in 1691). It is located in the northeast clerestory in the Main Chapel of the Motherhouse.

You'd look away too...

We have been blessed by the Sun since Friday and it looks like more of the same for the next few days. After thirty years, I finally got to visit the Sistine Chapel (along with the Vatican Museum). The last time I was in Rome, they had just begun preparation for the massive restoration of the ceiling, so it was closed to the public. I wished I had been able to see it before the cleaning because words cannot describe the phenomenal impact Michelangelo’s cleaned up frescoes make on the crowd over 65 feet below. I could have sat there for hours. The Vatican Museum is another must-see. Whatever our Protestant brethren may want to critique about the Catholic Church (and there are plenty of targets), one experience of the Vatican Museum and the visitor walks away with a powerful impression of how focused the Church was on preserving culture over the course of 2000 years. * This is the Delphic Sybil located just past the narthex in the Sistine Chapel. Believe it or not, of all the amazing figures, she is my favorite. The clarity of her facial expression is stunning. I also like the way she is averting her head to the left - perhaps she doesn't want to have to spend eternity looking at the fresco to her right - Judith holding the severed Head of Holophernes.

If you are in search of a plenary indulgence, this is the way to go...

We met in our language groups to develop three questions each to pose to the General Council. Our group selected three fairly related themes: the unique identity of the Brother in light of “Shared Mission”; the need to focus attention of lay colleagues who do not have a need or desire to form an intentional community with/around the Christian Brothers and the need for ongoing formation for everyone involved in the delivery of the Lasallian Mission. We met with the Superior and his Council at 4:30 PM. We were broken up into language groups and each then met with a Councilor who spoke that language. We met with Brother David Hawke from Australia and the Councilor for the Pacific Asia Region which includes Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Malaysia, Singapore, Hong Kong and India. He was absolutely delightful and our conversation with him was candid and informative. We then regrouped for Mass, social and dinner. It was a relaxed and productive time – not at all intimidating as some of us had assumed. The experience convinced of two things: first that, from my perspective, the Christian Brothers are way ahead of most (if not all) religious congregations in terms of trying to get a handle on how to respond to the rapidly changing world we occupy – especially as it relates to the involvement of lay people in delivering the Mission. The second thing that struck me by this experience is that the Brothers, themselves, aren’t sure of where this will take them and are looking to lay people like those of us gathered together in Rome, to assist them in figuring it out. I came away from the moment with more questions than answers, but confident that the Brothers are moving in the right direction. It was one of those rare sunny days, so Bob, Ann, Bill, and I trooped off to visit the Basilicas of Saint John Lateran (the “Pope’s Church) and Santa Maria Maggiore – the last of the four Basilicas on our itinerary to visit (the other two being Saint Paul’s Outside the Walls and Saint Peter’s – of course). Saint John Lateran was the seat of the Papacy until the completion of Saint Peters and you can see some resemblance in architectural style. We also visited the former Papal Chapel of Saint Lawrence - just across the piazza from Saint John Lateran – where (it is said) Saint Helena, the mother of Constantine, had the stairs (Scala Sancta) that Jesus climbed to meet with Pontius Pilate shipped to Rome and ultimately placed in this church. It is the custom of the pious to climb the stairs on their knees and, sure enough, there was quite a crowd doing exactly that. I viewed the scene with conflicting emotions – my rational side said those stairs may have come from Palestine, but Jesus probably never climbed them – my religious side said what impressive faith people must have to make that climb for the purpose of seeking God’s favor. Speaking of which, it is Church custom that if one visits all four of Rome’s major Basilicas and goes to Confession and receives Communion and prays for the Pope, then one will be granted a plenary indulgence (too complicated to explain – check it out on Wikipedia). Now all I need to do is find a priest who only speaks Italian… * This statue of De la Salle, mounted in the northeast cloister (quadrant) of the Motherhouse was a gift of the Brothers of Italy at the time of the 44th General Chapter. I like the feeling of motion that De la Salle's upraised left hand creates - as if he is reaching for the future. Note that his right hand is placed on the student's shoulder and that the boy is looking up at De la Salle, as if seeking guidance.

When your head hurts, it's time to ask questions...

I have been tardy in posting comments about our sessions on Friday, Monday and today not because I’ve been too busy visiting Rome but because I’ve found it challenging to make sense of the sessions. Friday’s session asked us to read and reflect on a document coming out of the 43rd General Chapter (2000) entitled Associated for the Educational Service of the Poor. Monday’s session focused on a sociological view of the concept “family” as it might be applied to the emerging understanding of “Lasallian Family” and today’s session asked us to revisit De la Salle’s scriptural understanding of the term “Brother.” I had a sense that these three themes – association/family/brother will prove to be the overarching “take aways” of the month; but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s much clearer (for me) than mud. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, there are differing understandings about Association based on what part of the Institute/world you come from (Western Europe and Central America seem to have an emerging interest in more structured arrangements of Association – sort of like “Oblates” or “Third Order Franciscans” – lay people who desire a deeper and more formal relationship with the religious congregation). The session on the sociology of family appeared to stir up competing doses of confusion, anxiety, and support while I don’t think any of the lay people see the term “brother” as anything more than proper to the Brothers themselves. Still, we are slightly more than half-way through the month and, I imagine, these things will make more sense as we continue. Tomorrow, the Superior General and his Council will be meeting with us in the afternoon to respond to our questions. Thank God for simultaneous translation! * I love this sculpture of Saint Benedict. He is dying and is being supported by two monks just before he joins the Saints in heaven. He faces a magnificent mosaic of Christ the teacher. Benedict's arms are raised to heaven but (to me) they appear to be reaching out to Christ in the mosaic. The sculpture is in the entrance cloister of Monte Cassino.

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.

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.