Category: Italy

Morning walk along the Arno

9/19/2019

In Rome I prayed for peace in thirty-six different churches. I will continue to do the same in Florence, but prayer walks are my preferred way in this city. I’ve always claimed that I go to Florence to walk around with God, and that still holds true. The Jesus Prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me a sinner.” How could I not say it as I walking along the Arno?
This morning I started out among clouds. I stopped for a cappuccino and continued on my way. God’s creation was changing. I stopped in a little chapel along the Arno. God’s love remained constant. (I'm having trouble loading pictures onto my blog, so for now I'll only offer one of the sunny ones.)

God with me in the rain

4/13/2018

Here is some further comments on yesterday’s post on www.acottagebythesea.net about an act of kindness by a monk who gave me an umbrella when he saw that I was caught in a rainstorm at the Sanctuary of St. Margharita, the highest point in Cortona.
This was a God moment, not an answer to a specific prayer. I wasn’t praying for the rain to stop; I was calm, knowing that I would get back down the mountain, that I would get dry and have a good meal. I was with God and God was with me.

April 11th, 2018

4/11/2018

If I were a nun I would join the Order of the Poor Clare’s and live at San Damiano, where Clare lived for some time before Francis’s death in 1226 to her death in 1260. It was in this rundown monastery that Francis, while praying in front of a crucifix, heard: “Go Francis and repair my house, which as you can see is falling into ruin.”. Francis rebuilt San Damiano for Clare and her sisters. Today the complex is inhabited by the Order of Friars Minor.
My pilgrim’s walk began as I began the steep descent from the town at the top of the hill to San Damiano nestled among the olive groves in the valley. The section open to the public is self-contained, sparse, offering only what one needs to lead a prayerful life, which is what Clare embodied.

I plan to write more extensively about San Damiano, but for now I want to give you a visual tour of my prayerful time there.

Staying in monasteries in Italy

3/31/2018

     My pilgrimage to Italy starts April 4th. I’ll spend four nights in Rome, three in Assisi, one in Cortona and six in Florence. Unlike my usual two week stay in an apartment in Florence, I’ll be staying in monasteries-turned-guesthouses run by nuns. The bedrooms are simple, but thankfully ensuite. The public rooms are quiet, but thankfully without TV. Thankfully, the nuns are servants of Christ.
I’ll still be writing and walking around with God, but this trip feels different. What can I anticipate? What can I plan so I don’t treat these convents as just an inexpensive place to stay?
    Let me start with a theological question. What does God want me to hear on this pilgrimage and what might I do to listen? Asking what God wants me to hear is a big shift for me. I’d rather set the agenda and tell God the kinds of things I want God to tell me. To listen I need to be silent; to be silent I need to quiet my mind.
    Of course the practical response never changes: pray and walk, pray and sit, pray and meditate, pray and gaze, pray and be in the moment. Nothing new here, just a reminder to practice, practice, practice listening to God no matter where I am.
    How very grateful I am to be going on a pilgrimage in these places, at this time in my life. How very grateful for help with arrangements through www.monasterystays.

Walking around with God

12/3/2017

As I prepare to leave for Italy, I’m reminded that Jesus sent his disciples out in twos to heal, and to take nothing for their journey, and to proclaim the kingdom of God. How can Jesus speak to me when I’m going by myself with every intention to be alone, and, although I’m taking very little, I do have a suitcase packed?
It’s the idea of the kingdom of God that resonates with me. I’m not proclaiming it out loud, but I’m planning to the walk around with God. That feel like a proclamation even if no one I meet or pass on the street knows what I’m doing. Whenever we are in a state of peace, that peace spreads to others, especially those in our physical sphere. If I don’t believe this, I’m left in despair. The prophet Micah tells us what the Lords requires of us: to justice, act kindly and walk humbly with God. I’m walking with God, trying to do it humbly.

Walking with God in Lucca

3/26/2017

San Michele

Lucca is a lovely walled medieval city an hour and a half train ride from Florence. I went there yesterday to wander through the streets with God. With such a beautiful day before me, the only church I entered was San Michele, where I lit a candle for some friends. Today God was most present out of doors. To be simplistic, that’s where God wanted to be.

Italy again~

3/16/2017

I’m going to Italy on Monday for two weeks, spending one night in Rome and then taking the train to my beloved Florence, where I’ve rented an apartment for thirteen nights. When asked, I tell people I’m going to write, to walk, visit museums, read, to pray, and eat. To some I say that I’m going to walk around with God. That is always true but it can be off-putting to some. By their very nature, solitary trips are personal.

S. Agnes Outside the Walls

11/4/2015

My last morning in Italy. What better place to visit than the Church of Saint Agnes Outside the Walls, and the adjoining Mausoleum for Costanza, daughter of Constantine I. Because this church was outside the Roman walls, Roman law allowed Christians to bury their dead in catacombs. The church displays Christian artifacts from the earliest times (second century) to the present. What a prayerful place, both at the grotto in the garden as well as inside the church.
The Mausoleum for Constanza was build in the fourth century. On a previous visit I was the only one walking around and around. Today students were sketching. Different forms of prayer.

St. Agnes Outside the Walls

Mausoleum for Costanza

To be a monk in Fiesole--a fantasy~

4/16/2015

   I talk about my visit to the Chiesa di San Francesco in Fiesole in my cottagebythesea.net blog (posted below). Here I want to add some thoughts about faith.
     I am especially drawn to this little monastery. If I were a monk it is where I’d want to live. But then, when I ask myself, “What if you had to stay here for three months (don’t even consider your whole life) and follow the same daily office and routine every day?” my fantasies disappear. I like routine, but I also thrive on variety and on anticipating future plans, my plans. As a monk, all I’d have would be routine.
   The routine life of the monk is being in God’s presence and anticipating a future in the life to come, in life after death. Variety would only detract from this holy commitment. When I think of being a monk in these terms, I am humbled. Silence, solitude and simplicity, yes, but not all the time and not without variety and future plans in here and now.

     "One of my favorite day trips from Florence is to Fiesole. Hop on Bus #7 at Piazza San Marco and twenty-five minutes later there you are at the top of the hill overlooking Firenze. The Duomo looms large.
      There is much to see in Fiesole but I usually pass by the Roman forum, the local museums and cathedral, and climb the hill to the Chiesa di San Francesco. I can never resist talking pictures, and of course, blogging about it again.
     On this early spring day, all was silent. I was in solitude, and yet the few visitors who came along offered a comforting sense of community to this miniature monastic complex. After all, those of us who had ventured to this out-of-the-way place must be kindred spirits in some way!
     Every time I climb the stairs to gaze into the fourteenth century monks cells, I picture myself living in one of them. My AR (angel room) at home is not much bigger, but the comparison stops there. These cells are sparse—board for a bed, a desk and chair, Bible and cross. I won’t even begin to describe the AR! I will say, however, that these cells encourage me to simplify, to get rid of things, mainly books that are from another stage of life, books that I will never read again."

God doesn't pull strings~

1/27/2015

Here’s that cliché again: “Where does the time go?” Since I posted four days ago I have learned that the cottage isn’t available this year because the owner had a stroke and won’t be going south; and I have made plans to go to Florence (yes, Florence, Italy) from February 22-March 5.

   Here’s the theological challenge. The elation that I’m experiencing as I plan my Florence trip is only possible because of my cottage friend’s illness. Had plans gone as expected, he would be playing tennis is Florida and I would be shoveling in Maine. My time and money would be committed to the win-win situation that he and I have had for five years, and that would be fine with me. But personally, this winter plan is working out beautifully. I’ve loved being home with my husband all winter, and now I love the idea that I will be in Florence visiting my favorite spots and writing in my favorite libraries and cafes.

    I don’t feel guilty that I have this fabulous plan while my friend is struggling to heal; my good fortune hasn’t happened at the expense of my hia illness. That isn’t the way it works with God. God isn’t ‘up there’ pulling strings. Life happens, the good and the bad, the joys and concerns. We are called to pray and to respond in God’s way, which is the loving way.

    P. S. Also, since I posted we have had 18 inches of snow and it’s still coming down. To quote my mother, “We’re not in charge of the weather.”