Assisi.
My alarm went off at 5:30, again at 5:45 and thrice at 6:00. The seagulls, confused as usual, ushered me into our early morning departure with their raucous, yet amusing laugher (if you’re wondering why I find it funny that their shrill voices disturb us at all hours of the night, don’t ask; I’m still uncertain). We met in the map room at 6:30 and set out for Lepanto. Our wait at the Termini was extended due to a scheduling glitch, but an iced coffee from across the street and good conversation were enough to lift my spirits.
Our train arrived in Assisi around noon. When our shuttle dropped us off in town I was taken aback. Six months ago I went to Jamaica with a friend of mine who told me that Assisi was her favorite place in Italy. She said its beauty was unparalleled and true to form with its patron saint, Francis. Honestly, her words didn’t do this gorgeous town justice. I don’t think mine will either, but I’ll try:
Imagine boarding the Delorean with Marty McFly and setting course for Medieval Italy. Then, hit the pause button on life. This is how it feels to travel to Assisi. The only modern additions to the town were cars and cell phones. Everything else was perfectly preserved. We put our bags down at our hotel – which boasted a view that could’ve been dreamt up by Michelangelo himself – and walked to the Basilica of Saint Francis.
Before we left for Assisi I did some basic research on Tuscany. I knew Saint Francis was the patron saint of Italy, Assisi, nature and animals. That was the extent of my information. I could have never anticipated the experience I would have when I visited his church.
When I first walked in my eyes had to adjust to the lighting (we visited many churches in Rome that filtered their light by level to represent the ascension of Christ, the basement level being the darkest and the cupola glowing; I figured this building was modeled to do the same which Chris later confirmed for me). The structure of the building was different than any we had visited. The chapels were not sectioned off, rather they were all connected through walkways, giving it the appearance of a labyrinth that was wrapped around the congregation.
I walked through the chapels and made my way downstairs to the tomb of Saint Francis. I knew thousands of people traveled from around the world to pray to him and other saints. I saw nuns, monks, business owners, wives and children kneeling at the tomb immersed in prayer. It was a connection deeper than any I witnessed in Rome. I walked around the tomb and saw pictures of people taped to the gates surrounding it. I realized the enormity of what I was witnessing and took a moment to pray as well.
I went upstairs to the basilica and found a balcony where you could see the entirety of Assisi. The atmosphere was breathtaking. Miles of illuminated trees, farmland and flowers stretched to the horizon. I can honestly say I’ve never seen a place so beautiful and quaint. At that moment I felt as though I stumbled upon God’s best kept secret. I felt more safety, security, light, love and peace of mind than ever in my life. I couldn’t explain the emotions that dwelled within me or why they chose to reveal themselves in that place, but I felt God talking to me in a voice louder than ever before. I repeatedly told Him, “I get it. I understand.”
I reluctantly left the balcony and decided to continue exploring. I stumbled upon the gift shop. I considered buying rosaries for friends while I was in Rome, but never for myself. I felt different in Assisi. I knew that day it was the right thing to do. While I was at the store I asked Michelle Brenes and Dr. Bednarz how to pray the rosary. I think they knew I felt a little disconcertment about buying the rosary, because they told me I didn’t have to be Catholic to use one. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders and purchased it. It’s the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.
I lingered in the church as long as I could, not wanting to chase away the feelings I’d experienced moments before. Soon enough the group was ready to move on and I decided to go exploring with Rebecca and Kathryn. We walked to the outskirts of Assisi in search of the statue my friend told me about. We didn’t find it, but I couldn’t be too disappointed because in the process we had an adventure. I took pictures of the farm houses and the flowers that sprinkled the roadside while we waited for the bus back to town. While we sat on the curb ladybugs began crawling at mine and Rebecca’s feet. Rebecca reached down and, without realizing the alarm that sounded in my voice, I said, “Don’t touch them! They’re good luck. They’re the one insect you shouldn’t kill. Besides, what would Francis do?” Rebecca and Kathryn laughed and more crawled towards us. I figured it was a good omen for what was to come within our final week.
When we caught the bus back to town we found a restaurant that appeared as, literally, a hole in the wall. When you walked inside the lighting was soft. You saw a wall of wine bottles, giant paintings on the wall across and out of the window was a view of a building across the street that had dilapidated frescoes (I think we agreed it was a scene from the Gospel of Mark). The music was fantastic and the family who owned the restaurant had infectious personalities that warmed the environment. The pasta was the best I had tasted during the trip as well.
After dinner we caught up with the rest of the group for a glass of wine on the hotel balcony. But before drinks I grabbed my rosary from my room and found a private section of the balcony. I prayed at sunset. The skyline glowed with subtlety in the distance. The hotel clerk donned Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black on the balcony stereo that day. Her voice hummed in the distance, but my attention was focused on the birds. Their chirping was, much to my astonishment, harmonic. The sound was infectious. I listened to their song as I prayed, thanking God for every struggle, frustration and moment of stress that laid the path to my Italian experience. I knew at that moment that I was meant to be there and God brought me to Italy for a purpose. For the first time I prayed to Saint Francis. I asked that he continue to watch over his beautiful town, over Italy and over me. It was an amazing feeling speaking to someone who held no prominent place in my life just days before but suddenly filled my heart. Lutherans recognize saints, but only pray to the Holy Trinity. However, I knew he was listening.
I rejoined the class for drinks on the balcony and hiked with them to the top of Assisi to look at the stars. They were brightest in Assisi, away from the light pollution of the city. I closed my eyes a few times in a desperate attempt to capture mental pictures. I didn’t want the moment to end, but all good things must.
We walked back to the hotel and said goodnight. I knew the next morning we would have to leave. I made a promise to myself that I would come back to visit Saint Francis again. I had no choice. Clearly, we were linked.
No comments:
Post a Comment