Holy Night, Silent Night

Merry Christmas!

Friends, among the works of art about the Nativity of Our Lord, one that struck me for its simplicity is George La Tour’s “Adoration of the Shepherds” A classmate presented it to me recently.

The adoration of the sheperds was a common theme among XVII century’s painters. Here, de La Tour presents it with drastic simplicity, without angels, clouds, or halos. De La Tour reveals the capacity to focus on the essential, excluding every superficial detail and concentrates on the effects of the only source of light in the scene. The baby looks like a small mummy, but has a well done asleeping face. The shepherds are people simple but with great dignity. It can be seen in their cloths, hair and the tools for their labor. A little sheep smells the baby and some wheat. Mary appears dominant by the left and her hands are the only ones in an attitude of prayer. Joseph protects them with the heat of a lamp. The hands movements are awesome. They express life: work, nourishment, feast, protection and prayer. De La Tour represents a world of internal light with great serenity. He proposes to see interiorly, which is the only way to feed a presence. The seer is invited to take place to complete the circle around the baby.

Let’s friends take a minute today, in silence, total silence and solitude and take that place to complete the circle opened by Mary, Joseph and the shepherds. Let’s rest in silence in front of Him called by the evangelist the Savior, the Lord Christ.

Like the pope said no so long ago, nothing miraculous, nothing extraordinary, nothing magnificent is given to the shepherds as a sign. All they will see is a child wrapped in swaddling clothes, one who, like all children, needs a mother’s care; a child born in a stable, who therefore lies not in a cradle but in a manger. God ’s sign is the baby in need of help and in poverty. Only in their hearts will the shepherds be able to see that this baby fulfills the promise of the prophet Isaiah, which we heard in the first reading: "For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government will be upon his shoulder" (Is 9:5). Exactly the same sign has been given to us. We too are invited by the angel of God, through the message of the Gospel, to set out in our hearts to see the child lying in the manger.

God’s sign is simplicity. God’s sign is the baby. God’s sign is that he makes himself small for us. This is how he reigns. He does not come with power and outward splendor. He comes as a baby – defenseless and in need of our help. He does not want to overwhelm us with his strength. He takes away our fear of his greatness. He asks for our love: so he makes himself a child. He wants nothing other from us than our love, through which we spontaneously learn to enter into his feelings, his thoughts and his will – we learn to live with him and to practice with him that humility of renunciation that belongs to the very essence of love. God made himself small so that we could understand him, welcome him, and love him.

The Altar de la Patria

Via del Corso displays lights with the Italian flag colors. This year Italy celebrates 150 years as a Republic

Of course, the Coliseum deserves its Christmas tree also.

Via del Corso from the Piazza del Populo

Via Condoti form the Spanish steps

Lost Saints of Rome

I met Luigi in a public transportation bus coming back home from celebrating the Eucharist with the Sisters of Charity of Mother Teresa. I go to their convent the third Saturday of the month to say Mass in the morning. It is always challenging, but I look forward to it. It is the only homily I say in the month. I don’t know what to preach them. They preach to us all the time. However, I preached about hope that day; on how we bring hope to the world just by believing. I got on the bus route number 85 at about 8:30am. The bus was rather crowed. All the seats were taken and many people were standing. Not so rare for Rome. However, I noticed a free seat next to him. Nobody seemed interested on taking it. It was strange. I checked around if anyone else would take it, but not. So without hesitation I took the seat.

Luigi was on the window seat and distracted looking through it. When he realized I was there, he seemed being surprised. He turned his face around from the window and met my eyes. I smiled and felt the smell. I, then, understood why no one was there with him. He turned away again to the window. It was like indifference was his daily bread. I couldn’t resist the desire to talk to him and look at his eyes again. So I touched his shoulder to call his attention. It seemed so foreign to him: touching, attention, affection, importance. He looked at me with reservation but at this time, he smiled back. We never talked but we looked at each other for the rest of the trip, 5 minutes … maybe? That moment was broken when I reached my destination. I got out of the bus astounded and only could come back to myself to take care of my wet face.  

I never have seen him again, but his ragged look, unpronounceable smell, messy hair and bear are in my mind ever since. I wonder in what corner or street he sleeps. What he made me realize wasn’t the great amount of homeless people in Rome but my indifference towards them. And I will guess everybody’s indifference. When they approach us begging for money, we are prompt in turning them away, because we have rationalized their needs and state of life very well. They are lazy, they are addicts, they are just not good. I am not going to patronize it. It is the answer we give to console our attitude. But you know what? Luigi made realized how materialistic we are in that regard. How materialistic they are also in what they beg for. That morning on bus route 85, I saw hopeless and lack of affection; two major expressions of simple no love. I saw my opportunity for simplicity once more. I saw vulnerability ready to be taking care of.

I didn’t know what I should do then. I prayed with Luigi image like for a month or so. I walked around noticing the great number of neighbors sleeping in thresholds, but afraid to approach any. Many ideas came to mind. I thought on preparing as many as possible sandwiches and go out to distribute them. I thought on writing to the FAO (Food and Agriculture Organization) whose headquarters are right here. I thought unbelievable things to do for the homeless. But every time I got excited about any of those doable projects, I noticed each project being dependable of others and my dealings with bureaucracy. Again, Luigi reminded me how materialistic I was thinking. What Luigi begged was for no indifference, affection, simple love.

One recent morning this is what happened. My mother’s birthday was only some weeks ago. I remember growing up, my annual frustration of not being able to buy her a “suitable” gift for the occasion. But the great solution was to surprise her with a rose and breakfast on bed.  She told me stories about it when I called her this year for her birthday. For all of you who know me well, it is not a secret my difficulty to wake up in the mornings. I admire early birds, they are my heroes. I will rise up early to fulfill responsibilities but never for myself. So last Sunday at 6:00 am, I put together all of that. I prepared coffee, put it on a thermo bottle, grabbed some cornetos (Italian breakfast bread) and went down the block. It was chilly. This time I met Bill, Francesco, and Enzo still sleeping on their cardboards. I woke them up and told them I had coffee for breakfast. Again, like Luigi on route 85, they looked almost terrified. But this time, they made room for me to sit on their blankets; we talked, and had breakfast together. 

  

Like the pope said this morning: Prior to all of this is the encounter with Jesus Christ, inflaming us with love for God and for others, and freeing us from seeking our own ego. In the words of a prayer attributed to Saint Francis Xavier: I do good, not that I may come to Heaven thereby and not because otherwise you could cast me into Hell. I do it because of you, my King and my Lord. I came across this same attitude among the Sisters of Mother Teresa, who devote themselves to abandoned, sick, poor and suffering children, without asking anything for themselves, thus becoming inwardly rich and free. 

Getting ready .. I got a small tree!

Via Condoti, leaving Cafe Greco

Who said pasta can't be used as ornaments too!

St Peter's square is also getting ready for the holy night ...SILENT night

Why I Don’t Like Latin, Hate Doing Laundry and Other Student’s Feelings

Hello folks!

It has been a while without a word on these lines. The reason for that, I think, is that I have to experience a little more before Rome became a routine. To cope, I am writing from a table in one of Rome’s best cafés: Caffè Greco, 250 years of tradition.  Not too bad for Rome’s millenarian time table. It was the 18^th century haunt of foreign artists and writers such us Keats, Byron, and Goethe and composers like Liszt, Wagner, and Bizet all breakfasted and drank here. So did Casanova and mad king Ludwig of Bavaria. Today, Italians stand in the crowded foyer to sip a quick espresso, and we foreigners sit in a cozy back room. It seems the perfect place to come and write. It is my first time here and I have wanted to come since the moment I heard about it. However, I am a little disappointed, here are not writers anymore. It is full of snappy tourists. I am sitting in the back room, the one straight ahead down the hall. It is beautiful. It has red walls, paintings with beautiful frames. There is a piano in the corner opposed to me, some sculptures, busts and portraits that recall the café’s former artistic patrons.

I won’t go around the bush with the proposed question. I will answer it right away. Right away, great expression. Every time I hear it or say it, I don’t think of something which will be instant but it reminds me of one of my altar servers at St Edna who said to me the second time I saw him: I will tell you it right away: you are my favorite! A quiet complement for the baby priest I was then, intimidated even by the candles.

Ok now I will go straight. First of all, I don’t like Latin because, at this point of my life, I should know it by now and shouldn’t be studying it still. Furthermore, it takes me a lot of time from doing other things. Secondly, I hate doing laundry for a similar reason. It takes so much time, perhaps, an hour and a half from the moment I decide to do it to the moment I close the closet with everything hung and folded neatly. Also because Mai, in St Edna’s rectory, did it much better than me and it makes me dizzy to watch the watcher and drier machines spinning around. About other student’s feelings, sometimes I feel like going to a particular class where the teacher only reads from his book is such a waste of time. In short, just in case you have not noticed it, what I don’t like about being a student is the amount of time it takes.

But the next question is: what do I need time for? I have all the time for studying! It is my job. But I think I know what I am going through. It is actually a well known syndrome: STFD and DD (student tendency for distractions and daydreaming). Maybe some of you can relate to it. I suffered from it before, back in high school and college. But I think it is always there each time we are labeled with such noble activity.

Now I got distracted with the new set of customers at the table in front. This time there is a young couple with a baby. The mother unloads her bag with baby stuff: a thermo, baby bottle, dippers. The father holds the baby while checking his cell phone. She looks overwhelmed and the infant demands attention. Well, if this is not a writer’s place anymore, definitely it is filled with stuff to write about.

Now going back to our conversation, daydreaming is the closest attitude for prayer, especially when I feel prompted to be distracted from praying. When there is noise behind. When there are people running around in what is supposed to be a quiet place. The solution is to daydream. When I am in that almost mystic experience with my thoughts, I don’t hear anything nor notice anything around. It is only my dream and me, isn’t it? That’s the attitude for prayer in noisy circumstances. It is entering into the silence of myself shutting down the world for a while. Just like daydreaming.

At this point I changed my table. This new one has a very good view and sense of the room. This is a good place, except for the noisy people on the back. I am just going to ignore them because I am distracted writing. By the way, I am drinking tea, just in case anyone wonders.

So I guess what I want to say here is that time and responsibilities go together. It seems like time goes against fulfilling tasks. It is not because time got mad about it; but because I don’t make them to go along well. So I created a strategy against it. Normally and honestly it takes only 20 minutes to do Latin drills; but in real time I spend 2 hours. I don’t wonder what happens with the extra 100 minutes. It is crystal clear, or do you want to guess? I daydream or get distracted by unplanned stuff during those extra minutes. Therefore, the strategy is to plan the distractions beforehand. Every time I will study Latin or have to do laundry I come out with some distraction to go along the way. For example, laundry time is now an hour of spiritual reading. I got down one book so far. I don’t plan to do laundry anymore, but to read some chapters from any spiritual author in the laundry room. It is great, because it is like doing spiritual laundry. I am not sure what that should mean, but it sounds interesting. When I find out its meaning I will tell you. On the other hand, every time I go to a class where the teacher just reads from his book, I read too, and I even make some progress with complementary readings. It actually has given me a little bit more of free time to visit churches around and to practice Latin reading every inscription I see throughout the city. Just like when I learned how to read back in first grade.

In the end, time does not matter so much here, I am in the eternal city anyway. I am enjoying my studies along with the opportunities to live the culture and faith of this town. And the Lord? He is the one who takes all my time, even when I am not in prayer. What I found myself doing with my free time is looking for lost saints in Rome. Like Luigi. ...(will continue )

No, I am not sleeping. I am daydreaming!

This St Peter's basilica. Catholicism's major shrine full of "pilgrims." Imagine praying in this context.

Keeping vigil for the Immaculate Conception Solemnity. Inner courtyard in the house.

Immaculate Conception Column in Piazza Spagna.

The pope has arrived. Prayer service on December 8th.

Traditionally the pope comes on December 8th to pray here. It also has become the event to officially starts the pre Christmas season in the city.

Pope's Mass in St Peter's of Our Lady of Guadalupe commemorating the bicentenial of Latinamerica countries' independencies.

The pope prayed for our continent through the intercession of la Morenita del Tepeyac! He also announced his visit to Mexico and Cuba next spring.



This is the closer I could get.