Organized Religion

Organized religion. Two words that cause intense emotional response, re-surface past memories both wonderful or damaging. To some readers,  this will pique your curiosity and to others 'organized religion' are enough to make you logout and shudder. Please read me out.

Randy and I have written little about our organized religious experiences here in Florence, not out of shame nor neglect, but out of an ongoing processing within our journey. 

 Our first experience on a sunday night was spent in a freezing cold chiesa. It was  a  glimpse of what heaven will be like. We were greeted by a Finnish woman who was married to the Italian pastor who lead worship on his acoustic guitar. Our guest preacher was  a young Ethiopian man and the testimony was from a young Ukrainian woman. There was a verbal ad for Christian artists presented by a Russian and an American. The rest of the congregation was 3 darling Canadians, 2 fun Nigerians and the rest were mainly  young female  University students mainly of USA heritage. Half of our time was spent singing well known happy choruses. Does it matter if we sang  the Christmas song" Go Tell it on the Mountain " for the offertory?

 Our next sunday was in an Espiscopalian service ( condensed with no hymns for time management of two services) . The rector  is an eloquent orator, thoughtful woman, who stretched our thinking in an intellectual way. The congregation  we have met is mostly retired professors, former art historians or  professionals currently working in Florence.

Another chiesa (church)  we have been visiting regularly is a small church on a main shopping street that proffers organ concerts  or hosts traveling chamber choirs or string quartets  in the evenings. 

 Lat night we went to the Duomo, Santa Maria Del Fiore for a Catholic Mass - the fifth sunday of Lent. So  while feeling very small, in but a side chapel of the massive church, as  people were climbing and chattering in the dome overhead, we heard the Scriptures read and confession was available on the side. It felt monotone, detached and rote. Was it the size of the room or just not knowing protocol or was Someone missing?

Yet while we participate in this organized religion of today we are constantly exposed through our jaunts and visits of organized religions of yesteryear. 

One that was quite incredible was the Certosa Monastery, on the edge of Florence. A rich noble man built himself a house, Ok, a palace, and then attached a monastery and chiesa in the 14C. It housed 18 hermit contemplative monks around a beautiful cloister. These men only came out of their cells on sunday for one meal and on feast days. Each cell had a bedroom, a main prayer room and a garden to tend, with spectacular views out to the glowing Tuscan hills of olive groves, vineyards, orchards and homes. They were taken care of by other 'brothers'. Even as they are buried they are without any markings as to who,what or when they were. Another monastic life we met was through the Badia  Fiorentina. It is a group of people committed to renting in the downtown core of Florence( so they are not tied to materialism),  they squeek out a living so they can practically love the marginalized people; the homeless, the beggars and those who just need a friend to care. They are living not to be set apart but to make a difference. 

It is another Sunday night, and we are trying to make sense of all this religion,  to organize it  and put it in its place. But we  can't and we decided we won't- Jesus loves us each so uniquely - it is a mystery. It is not about us.

Some  find space in the liturgical service to spiritually ponder  and grow, while others find the free form of worship more their style to find the space where they can meet Jesus. And yet others believe they are called to not really exist in relationship with  other people but just with God.

Organized religion is not really   organized; It is merely man's attempts to put God in a box, to reign Him, in so we can grasp His mystery. So at the end of this day, in the mystery I find a cohesive thread to it all. God, since before time began, is the Author of this mystery. Seemingly unrelated events and people, including you and me, are part of  an intricate   story of love and rejection, deceit and innocence and ultimate Redemption. 

 

Bells and bread by the kilo

Manly yes , but I like them too. His socks that is - though now it is hard to tell the difference between his and mine. 

 The seasons fashions here are changing. Not being a shoe or purse fanatic like some friends I have, I procrastinated and missed out on  the "can-they-really be-leather-at-that-price"winter sales of all the black and brown boots. They have been replaced by the tan, white and puce colored boots of spring. (  Yes, Puce is a color. It is between brown ,grey with purple and greenish tinges.) Anyway....

We had the delight of having some friends visit from Tsawwassen! Although the weather was miserable , struggling to snow, with a few flakes here and there, it finally broke sun and it we had a great time. A highlight was going up Giotto's Tower, 413 steps, right next to the Duomo. We were right under the behemoth bells as they tolled. Being right under them as they peeled , they seemed aggressive, angry and agitatedly strong- not that gentle reminder of call to pray or to let you know what time it is or the constant friendly reminder of how great Florence is when you are far below. They reverberated right through our bodies like we were a wisp of smoke in the air. I was taken aback but I loved it! Who needs vibration therapy? Maybe a hearing aid :)....

We are now  one quarter of the way through our time here. I am measuring time by how many bottles of sumptuous thick olive oil we have been through, our neighbor's full cycle of laundry color and that our peanut butter jar from home is almost empty. As we continue on this journey I still find things weird. Not in a negative way but just weird.

 How much bread do I want? Well, a loaf, a baguette would be great!... not so?!?!... how many kilos of bread? do you want salted or unsalted? The loaves are gi-nornous! They dominate the patisicceria! If I didn't know better they rival the size of the bells in Giotto's Tower. The friendly man who is always three feet higher than me and looking down from his perch and over the wall of bread, asks" how much?" I mutter something that sounds like" mezza-kilo" or due grame ( 200 grams). He just cuts a slab from the large loaf  and I  come away grateful for whatever it is he  gave me...

 And now eggs. Each one has it's own id #. O.K. that is  kinda cool, but why do they sell them in 4's and 10's and my  egg rack in the fridge holds 9? 

 My favourite  market is like a  Granville Island, it is Mercado Centrale. Individual vendors selling their meat, cheese, wines or produce or touristy tasty wares. I have found a few vendors I am trying to build a relationship with. They tolerate and help my Italian language butcherings! The discovery of  fun and fabulous new condiments for us to adorn our pastas and breads always makes the shopping a little like living on the edge. Tartufo balsamic vinegar crema for example. As for edgy eating, the market has its share of the whole chickens with their little heads cocked to the side, pigs' heads, cows tongues, intestines, hooves and yesterday we saw friendly Clara the Cow's nose. I just don't know....

 

Man socks

I needed to buy some black socks, because two pairs that I brought with me were wearing out. Not sure if it is all the walking we are doing? You can imagine how excited I was when I found "Made in Italy" cotton socks at the outdoor market In Cascine Park, along the Arno river. I bought a package of four for only 7-1/2 euro, about $13. When I got home and looked at them closely, I started laughing and getting mad at myself. They were the right size, the right colour, but they were thin like panty hose, when stretched out over my foot. I call them "woman" socks, not man socks. Ridiculous...... Needless to say, today I am wearing two pairs on each foot, so you can't actually see skin through my socks. 

Private Bits

Well, I finally signed up for an art class at Accademia D'Arte. I showed up for drawing class and my first assignment was to sketch a model, not a miniature kind of model, but a human being. A male figure,....... a model with no clothes on. It was a little weird, but at least he covered himself up with his hands. Not like all the statues around Florence with full exposure. These manly sculptures have their hands in all sorts of poses like a fist in the air, or a hand on a sword, but none of them cover up their private bits. 

My next sketch was less daring. I stuck to my tried and true subject,..... architecture. It is a view of the Duomo - Brunelleschi's dome and Giotto's campanile (belltower).

We just got a phone call from friends, Ray and Stef Tetzel. They are in Florence with their kids for a few days. So, I'll have to sign off, as we are walking out the door to go meet them at Piazza Santa Trinita. Ciao.

Afraid to be like Francesco Bernardone

The other day Sandy, Hannah and I took a long 2 hour bus ride to Umbria, the province just to the east of Tuscany. We visited the pretty little hilltown, with pink and cream stone buildings, of Assisi. You may have guessed by now that Francesco is known to us as St. Francis. Yes, he's the guy who started the monastic community of Franciscans. They are the monks who wear sandals and brown tunics with ropes tied around their waists.

I hope you don't mind a little history lesson about Francesco Bernardone. The story begins eight hundred years ago. He was a privileged young man whose father was a wealthy cloth merchant. Francesco had a few negative experiences in his life and as a young man was searching for something more. The culture at that time was centered around the church. Everyone in the community participated in church life whether they believed in their hearts or not. It was the thing to do. God spoke to him in 1206 AD, at the age of 24 (don't know if it was audible or in his heart). From that point on he decided to live as Jesus did, literally. His conversion started a process where he became totally devoted to following Jesus, and lived simply with few possessions. He gave everything away, and focused on sharing the good news to all, caring for the poor and loving all, whether friend or enemy. 

 He preached using the local language, so people could more easily understand the Bible, rather than in Latin. He created the manger scene, which was useful to explain the Christmas message to an illiterate population. He preached outside, not just in elaborate churches, pointing to God's creatures and His creation as examples of God's love and blessing. In short, he came up with ways to share the good news of Jesus in understandable ways. Most of all, he lived what he preached.

He inspired many to follow him and so at the age of 40 (1220 AD), five years before he died, a community was started dedicated to following the way Francesco lived. We know these brothers as Franciscans. They have gone around the world since then and shared the good news of Jesus to many. If you are from California, you probably know that many of the missions (which eventually became towns and cities) were established by Franciscans. And of course, we all know about the City of San Francisco (St. Francis in english).

It is amazing what he did as a mere man in 20 years of commitment to God. He changed the world around him.

I ask  myself  the question after seeing what someone like Francesco did, "How can my life make a difference in the world around me?

Socks and Saints

How does one know if they or the loved  ones they are traveling with are relaxing and unwinding all the stressors they knowingly and unknowingly carry? Well, I cannot speak for others, but yesterday  when I asked Randy what time is was as I watched him put on his socks  for the day , he said with his big grin, "2:10 pm! "  His socks were off by 9! He is relaxed.

Today is Sabato. (Saturday)To counteract gelato frenzies and inhalation of crusty breads at every meal, I hauled Hannah with me on a power walk this morning. We are already noticing the influx of more people on the weekends, longer lineups, more street artists and general more pedestrian traffic.

 Tomorrow is Domenica. (Sunday-  ok this is personal  orientation to day and time!) we are heading off on a ROAD TRIP to Assisi! Therefore to be well informed  travelers once again, the ever ready Wiki/Sherlock found us, a deal of a bus trip that includes lunch and the pleasurable company of a local english episcopalian  church group! And did I mention they were even showing the Franco Zefferlli 1972 musical classic 122 minute , "Brother sun Sister moon" to inform us even further. It was showing @ 4pm.

It was the highlight of the day thus far!

We checked it out online before we went on website called Rotten Tomatoes. Not that this creates any foreshadows or preconceived notions, but let's just say Hannah was less than excited. The trailer and soundtrack by Donovan are the quintessential '72 kitch. Nevertheless,in the hope of creating a memory, we walked across town to the beautiful stone St. James Episocopalian church and were let in by a proper and kind elderly woman named Marion. She led us to the "circa 1970" church basement  through a side door, where we were immediately greeted by a handful of retirees.

" You drop the age by a hundred Mom, "whispered Hannah.  ( this was significant and meaningful as this is part of my birthday celebration~ more on that later!)

After a warm and friendly chit chat and a good strong Italian espresso, we all made our way into the theater. There it was, the 21 inch TV in the children's Sunday School class. It was a time warp back to my early childhood. We increased the group significantly so we brought in our own grey plastic chairs and sat at the back...right by the door... just in case we needed to leave for some dire emergency.  

So there we were in the dark corner of a church viewing a TV with 12 retirees and one mid-30 aged woman. One gregarious gentleman with twinkling eyes and a ruddy face, could not for the life of him get the machine, nor the remote, to work. The woman pastor asked ,"Can ANY one help, especially if they were of a younger generation.Will any one to admit to that scale?!"as  her eyes bore down on Hannah who was squirming and looking like a ferret backed into the corner, desperate for an escape. Her eyes turned pleadingly to Randy as he is encouraging her to go. Mother, caught in the middle and sensing  Hannah's panic, had to jump and save her youngest, " Randy! At least go with her!"  Mother frantically whispered. So he moves to the front to see if he can get the VCR working . Hannah stayed firmly planted. Yes I said VCR, meaning VHS . Randy as Wiki/ Sherlocky and brilliant as he is - the technical stuff is not his forte- this why we have a luke and hannah. he can and does fiddle around and somehow it works eventually.

 So I lose it in  gut wrenching laughter. I now am shaking uncontrollably with Hannah chastising me. It cannot get any more insane than this moment. The website gave the movie a 5.7/10. It was already at a 7 for me and the movie wasn't even working yet. 

 Randy ,  the ever -noble man came to the rescue of all the elderly and damsels in the room. My modern day David. larger than life was valiant once more. He saved the day and  the movie played, albeit with the color darkening in and out. 

 We learned something about St. Francis today. He turned his back on all his wealth and upbringing to live a simple life of poverty, chastity and charity. And as Alec Guiness who played

the Pope said, after being rebuked by St. Francis," Sometimes we  get too focused on the original sin that we forget the original innocence."

 May we never forget the innocence nor first love.

Florentine fresco of Shier

       

Soooo... do we chat about tonight's organ concert, today's visit to the stunning hilltop town of San Gimignano; or the lecture we attended at the quintessential and stuffy British Institute of Studies on an obscure specific fresco cycle here in Florence last night; or the quick trip to Fiesole, a town on the edge of Florence; or how I retardedly vacuum the apartment?
Let's start with vacuuming because we all relate to that! Imagine vacuuming Persian carpets and marble floors of an 1000 sq. ft. apartment with only the skinny-edge-vacuum  attachment. That is how they do it! No lie! OK so how I did it, and  how I saw another guy doing it today! I have no broom head or power head - just the little 3 inch skinny head opening. You know the one that you use, albeit rarely, in the sides of the couch. The dust bunnies are huge here in just a week. If I left them longer they would be Duomo- size! We have got to let them know who is the boss! Me !?!?
Ignoring the bunnies, yesterday we got on a public bus and took a 20 minute ride to the outskirts of Florence to have a commanding view of the valley and all Florence. It is such a weird thought that this small town was a power house before the time of Christ... in the Etruscan period..I just have no measurement for these kinds of thoughts. You and we don't even rate on the time scale.... hmmm... a small glimpse into God's timeline of humanity... again!
As for the lecture, well all I will say is, any cliche thought you have about " British" we experienced it last night! Overstocked library- floor to ceiling of old books,with papers and books piled wherever they could find an inch; heavily gilded, red velvet chairs; the "proper" accent flooding the stale air with posits and theories of retirees and you were with us in the library, listening to the lecture of a fresco cycle of paintings that are uncommon to the common tourist.
Curious how we ended up there? Thanks for asking. Randy the Walking Wiki, and human GPS is also a contemporary Sherlock and found a Florentine Newspaper for the English speaking!
Now San Gimignano, although it is touristy was a breath of fresh air. It is a hilltop town with 14 towers that is still very well preserved from the medieval times. Hannah and I climbed to the tallest tower and saw for the first time the beautiful patchwork of the Tuscan countryside. Labourers are busy prepping the straight lined vineyards, pruning the olive orchards and the almond flowers are struggling to break bud. It was  also a special day in SG- the Santa Fina Day- she is their patron saint. It was market day with extras! In the SG Duomo the light flooded from the clerestory windows casting distinct rays of heaven inside! There is a mystery to God and His beauty and we were privileged to get a glimpse.
Thanks for  being a part of our  brief but bright lives!  We love  hearing from YOU!

Now that we are seasoned veterans of Firenze.....of one week....here are some of our observations about our life.... The Duomo (the 4th largest church in Europe) is visible from almost anywhere and provides easy orientation for finding our way around. The other clues that Randy uses are the hills of Fiesole to the north and the shadows from the sun with the time of day so he knows which compass direction we are heading. With these observations, Randy, is now affectionately known as Sandy's personal GPS. He has a Firenze library card from the Della Oblate across the street. So we can add another name to him, the "Walking Wikipedia". He had to get the library card in order to access the internet on his laptop. They have wireless and the plug in ethernet is not working on his laptop in our apartment. (I'm sure Jon could figure it out)
In a regular Italian drip style coffee maker - they don't use filters and you can't buy them... so we make them out of napkins. Either that or our cups are full of fine grounds and our coffee is thick. Randy did buy an authentic espresso maker (like a mini stove top percolator) and is making strong italian espresso for erasing the cobwebs in the morning.
Our bathroom has heated towel bars, a bidet and curved french doors on the shower. It also has a door to a patio that can open from the side or the top for venting.
Electricity is expensive here yet they still have to have adapters for their own Italian appliances because they come with different sizes of plugs.
Living fully, we are inundated with smells both good and bad; the water has an odourous bleach yet sulphuric stench; leather, espresso, cigarette smoke, sewer, car fumes, fresh pasticcerias , baked bread, waffles and pizza.
Sandy continues to make fine tuscan cuisine from ingredients bought at the market - beef stew, spaghetti, focaccia sandwiches all enjoyed with aqua frizzante (sparkling water) and vino rosso.
Some are wondering why we chose Italy and why Florence? Here are some reasons as to why Italy: after half a dozen trips to Europe, Italy is our favourite country. We love the food, climate, culture, coffee, architecture, art, landscape, gelato and people. Besides that, it was Hannah's first choice. Why Firenze? It is a small city. Bigger than Kelowna, but much smaller than Vancouver. You can walk everywhere easily. It has a good airport and train station for italian excursions and is centrally located between Rome, Milan and Venice. Plus it is the home of renaissance art and architecture (Dante, Michaelangelo, Da Vinci, Machiavelli, Brunelleschi, all lived here). And it is in the centre of Tuscany with picturesque rolling hills, cypress trees, vineyards, olive groves - an idyllic landscape.
Although it has only been one week, we are quite settled in to our new short term home 100 meters from the Duomo on via dell' Oriuolo.

Markets and Monks

So I  previously mentioned how shopping brings out my insecurities and makes me sweat. Now I can add to the list- make Randy and Hannah laugh at me. 

 we went to the open air fruit and vegetable market with all the individual farmers selling their produce on tables. With Randy and Hannah allowing me the honor of selecting and interacting, I boldly went where I cower- to interact in Italian. From somewhere outside of me a voice that soundly strangely a lot like mine, greeted the vendor with, " Beunos Dias!" Immediately I think,"Who is the idiot speaking Spanish in Italy?!?!" Randy always known for his intelligence and quick wit was fast to affirm that it was indeed I, who was the idiot! In sheer embarrassment I don't know who wanted the earth to open up  and eat them faster- Hannah or I! So to make full  amends and redeem myself, as soon as I had my change I said," Gracias!" and fled, my face glowing like a pomodoro. It reminds of a friend who while visiting in Quebec ordered at the McDonald's "Deux McMuffin per favor."

It can only go up from here. And yesterday we did. Hannah and Randy climbed the 463 steps to the top of the Duomo.( I did art history studies) .Hannah really enjoyed it as it was her first true view and sense of Florence.  

Later we went on a meandering yet planned walk up to San Miniato al Monte, passing Galileo's house. San Miniato is a church built in 1018, that has a commanding hilltop view of the city of Florence with a functioning Benedictine monastery.  We had the serendipitous delight of listening to the monks partake in their 5 pm Gregorian Chant and liturgy in the lower level of the  split level nave.  

 Daily living is gratifyingly simple yet complex ; Making coffee is an adventure every morning. There is no room to hoard a Costco size shop , nor have more than one little bag of garbage.  You can't buy a gallon of milk or a family pack of meat but you can get a 3l  bottle of wine and  a 5lb round of cheese......and in it all there is a freedom.PS our place is just beyond the red banner in the street photo.

Welcome to the heart of our apartment~ the kitchen.. After arriving with our luggage( a small miracle in my mind) we entered into our new  reality of life in Florence. Our new friends made us feel so welcome and immersed us into the culinary specialities of Tuscany at lunch. Crostini platter with spinach , mushroom and tomato tapenades; antipasti platter of meats, including the Tuscan fat, thinly sliced pieces of fat that are stored in caves of white marble, matured between the cold slabs; and Riboletti soup, a tuscan soup that is thick with any and all pureed vegetables and old bread. Yummy brown comfort food. Why is it that comfort food does not present well at the table? Hmm. 

Our apartment is a jewel sanctuary in the midst of the busy historic district. We overlook a convent cloister across the street and have a private garden terrace out the back. 

 Our place is quite spacious. The shower is hot. Thank goodness though I have stood under a downspout in Vancouver and had more pressure. Grocery shopping is an adventure  that makes me sweat and brings out insecurities....Why are the panty hose next to the cookies? And who knew bread could take up so much room in  store? They seem to have three main food groups; bread, meat and cheese, with the wine in the next aisle. It is pouring with rain~ good thing, Hannah is jet-lagging behind the old folks! And Randy is Randy~ he is in his element amongst all these  large statues of magnificent men. Life is being echoed in the cobbled street below and in the marbled rooms of our apartment. I hope you can hear it.