COLORADO SPRINGS (3)

Taking a 'sabbatical day' after First Week of Retreat. Yesterday I explored Downtown - wide, wide roads, a spacious layout, quiet (for a Saturday) and mostly filled with coffee shops, restaurants, rather expensive womens clothing stores (and one men's) and 'antique' shops. Guess that all other stores have re-located to out-of-town shopping malls. The centre also has many 'street people' wandering round - some begging, others just lazing in the park. And if long grey hair and drooping moustashes are evidence, there seem to be plenty of old hippies. Apart from browing round the streets and drinking coffe there's not much to do, but there seems to be a Fine Arts Center which I'll check out next week.

Today I attended Mass at a central Episcopal church. It shall remain nameless. The building hits you when you see it - a 15th cent. Early English-Decorated Cotswalds church transplanted to the middle of this city! I say 'middle of the city': it's only a ten minute walk from the centre but the time youget to the church you're into leafy suburbia with its equally wide roads full of those "little boxes all made out of ticky-tacky" Pete Seeger sang about in the '60's. But I wont be critial of them: in comparison with our acres of Bovis-build these are all very individaulistic - there may be "a green one and a pink one and a green one and a yellow one" but none do look just them same.

So I entered the doors and took part in the Mass. It was the Traditional Rite of the Episcopal Church with a very large choir who sang a pleasant anthem at Communion. Very 'Civic Church of England'. There were two sermons - a 'Childrens Address' followed by the Sermon proper. Like the building, which whilst quintessentially English has nevertheless been interpreted in an American way, the Liturgy was similar. I realised how far more comfortable I am with the modern Roman Rite! The 'Annoncements' occured in the middle of the Eucharist and visitors were welcomed and invited to share in "Coffee hour". But when it came time to leave no one told me where to go. But the Deacon was cheery in her greeting, although the priest was more perfunctory and I was not inclined to join them. They could learn a thing or two from dear old St. Andrew's or St. Bede's! Perhaps I should have visited the 'Cowboy Church' - check it out!

So I caught the hus back to the Center as the snow began to fall (which it still is). I shall begin Week Two later this afternoon. So far it has proved a valuable time and I atill have three more weeks to go...

COLORADO SPRINGS (2)

Having attended last night's Vigil Mass and not having found the nearest Episcopal Church I decided to visit Pike's Peak. The day was beautiful and hot (73F this morning) so I caught the 14 bus to the Bus Station and then the 3 to Manitu Springs. The way the (few) bus lines works here is helpful in that they all link at the Station. The cost is also cheap but few people seem to use them. The car rules - I have never seen so many 4x4's! The pity is that I'm told there will be fewer buses from January as a cost-cutting measure. They need to learn from the UK - you need a very regular service that people can depend on - then they might think about abandoning the car for that quick trip to downtown.

The journey took me through Old Colorado City, with its 19th cent. main street full of antique shops, coffee bars - and the occasional tattoo shop (clearly big business in the USA). The bus route ends in the town centre at - the episcopal church of St. Andrews. Neo-gothic and built in 1864 of red stone it looked eerily like St. Andrew's, Romford. The town is clearly a tourist attraction with some interesting, historic buildings lining the main street. From there it was a 20 min. walk up to the terminus of the 'Pike's Peak and Manitou Cog Railway'. Not having booked a place on the 1.20pm train I was put on the reserve list and, luckily, eventually given a place. The route is beautiful passing through forest and tundra, climbing steeply in places for just over an hour to the summit at 14,100ft. The panorama was stunning and magnificent! You can see into four states and the peaks of the western Rockies line the horizon. It was cold! A strong wind meant it felt below freezing and there were still traces of snow from last week. The train was packed with over 200 people, and at $32 per person that makes over $3000 per return trip (of which there are about ten a day). Clearly a money-maker! The line was built in the 1890's and they are about to return a vintage steam loco and carriage to the line.

I got back just as a bus was leaving but the driver recognised me and stopped. Phew - I discovered that was the last bus of the day (4.45pm). It linked with the last bus back to the Centre, so I am glad I followed my intuition that that might be the last bus. When I responded to questions at dinner as to how I got to Pike's Peak by saying I went by public transport there were creis of amazement! Whatever else America is trying to do to address environmental matters it's clear their love of automobiles is as strong as ever.

So the purpose of my being here begins tomorrow. Whilst being a tourist is interesting, the real work of the retreat starts at 9.30am.

COLORADO SPRINGS (1)

Arrived here yesterday after taking the Southwestern Chief from LA. The journey was long - 20 hours through the vast tracts of New Mexico, across the Desert and through canyons. Glad I decided to take the train - and glad that I booked a 'roomette'. At least I was able to sleep a little in a bed and have the privacy of my own compartment. The line to Colorado Springs is freight-only now so I had to leave the train at Raton, New Mexico and take a special bus. Thre were only four other passengers on the Greyhound, so it wasn't too crowded.

The days before had included a tour along the famous Mulholland Drive; dinner at an old Piano Bar; a visit with Fr. Ian Davies at St. Thomas', West Hollywood; time with my old friend Fr. Ed Sniencieski, and a day with Steve Wright. A full programme! Now it's goodbye to the West Coast and hello to the mid-West.

Colorado Springs (CS) is over 5000ft above sea level and the sun is still shining. The Mercy Centre has about another 15 people stying here, mostly on a three month Sabbatical Programme arranged by the Centre. CS is (in)famous for its fundametalist churches; I had a taste of it in talking with someone on the bus from Raton and the usual connection between Republicanism and these mega-churches was clearly apparant. My friend asked me about Protestantism in the UK and, as I reflected, I realised how the emergence of Methodism had linked our religious perception into the socilaist movement in a way that makes any similarities impossible. Maybe that's one of the reasons why these fundamentalist churches don't do well in the UK (apart from the fact that people aren't so - gullable?).

The Centre is pleasant and has great views of Pikes Peak - at 14000+ft, the tallest mountain in this region. The only drawback is that it about 20 yards from Interstate 25 and the railroad tracks... You can't get away from the noise. This aftenoon I walked into the nearby nature reserve (Sanderman Park), but even there the traffic could be heard. Ifthe weather stays fine, I might make an expedition up the mountain tomorrow. ZAfter that, the Retreat ebgins.

LA DIARY - Monday, 13th October 2009

Today is Columbas Day. Seems an appropriate day for someone from Europe to be here. Jim thought the Freeway was empty...

Last night we drove to Evensong at St. James', Wilshire Blvd. A well-attended service and very large choir who sang Stanford in G magnificently. In fact, I have rarely heard it sung so well (not that I attend Evensong that often). Their diction had a very English sound but the arrangement of the music had an unusual feel to it, more akin to operatic singing. But it was memorable. As was the meal afterwards at Taylors Steak House on 8th. A well-known old LA dining place: the food was excellent and the Martini's very dry! Two old friends of Jim and Michael's took us there, John and Sarah-Jane Thies. John is an honorary Canon of the cathedral and a very committed Episcopalian. He manages a lighting company and co-owns a vestment making business.

This morning Jim took me to Venice Beach. The skies were overcast and there was a light drizzle at times. The seafront bears no relation to anything in England! How to describe it? One side of the broadwalk is lined with the usual shops one would expect, although slightly more tattooists! The beachside is home to a multitude of hawkers, many of whom seem to be leftovers of the '60's hippy movement. Relaxed, friendly and slightly eccentric - artists, musicians, incense-sellers and poets. Signs of marijuana everywhere, for medicinal purposes, of course. We ate well at what seemed to be the only restaurant on the front.

Afterwards Jim drove me to explore the canals of Venice. A remarkable development of a number of canals and bridges dating from the '20's. Some years back they had fallen into neglect but after renovation it's now a wealthy suburb. Then onto Mulholland Drive. Wow! 24 miles of winding ridge-road along the Hollywood Hills section of the Santa Monica Mountains. Such views! One side - the (San Fernando) Valley and the other LA. It was interesting to see, at the viewing places, pictures of what the area was like in the days when Hollywood was starting up. And to discover the corruption that allowed the development of the Valley to occur - all thanks to Mr. Mulholland.

LA DIARY - Sunday, October 11th 2009

Just back from St. Bede's where I was so warmly welcomed both last night and this morning. Last night I was a guest at the annual 'Party of Parties', and this morning I presided at the 8am Mass and preached at both that and the 10am.

Whatever separates us - be it ocean and continent, time - or even a common language (!), the reality is that we all all the same. Apart from our common identity as Anglican Christians, we also share the same hope and fears, concerns and joys - and faith in God. I felt so 'at home' and was deeply conscious of the people of S. Andrew and S. Agnes. The same welcome and hospitality is a common theme in all our churches.

I was delighted to be able to present the statue of Our Lady of Walsingham and to receive so many appreciative remarks. Mary unites us in Jesus.

Yesterday Jim took me to the Huntington Art Gallery and Gardens in Pasedena. It is the most wonderful place and I am very grateful for the chance to have visited. We explored the Library, which contains, amongst other things, a Gutenberg Bible, early copies of Chaucer, the Declaration of Independence etc. as well as a strongroom with their 400,000 most rare books!

The house was built by one of the great 19th. cent. 'Robber Barons' and his wife, Henry and Arabella Huntington. He made his money building and running railroads, developed the extensive (and now defunct) tramway in LA and newspapers. Both were keen Anglo-philes although the house owes more to the French 'belle-epoch'. But the contents reveal his wife's tastes, not least for English portraiture. She must have bought up most of the Romney's and Reynold's that existed! The whole gallery has recently been restored and everything is displayed with the greatest care. The gardens, too, are magnificent and it was wonderful to be able to walk through them. Everything here, of course, owes more to the sub-tropics and that is clearly reflected in the plants and trees. The new Japanese and Chinese gardens are particularly splendid.

Tonight we attend Evensong at St. James', mid-Wilshire district.

It is good to be here.

SABBATICAL MUSINGS (4)

So I near the end of my visit. The walk up to the Carceri on Saturday brought back so many memories - of the campsite (Fontebello) in which I stayed back in '77 and which I hardly recognised; of the Carceri itself, hanging on the edge of the mountain surrounded by dense forest, so quiet and timeless and where I spent time just being there.

Assisi itself is, of course, timeless and although Francis would not recognise the place (except for his home, now contained in a church; the portico of S. Maria Sopra Minerva, an ancient Roman temple and the old Cathedral of S. Maria Magiore, and a few other places) the city suffers from its glory. It is preserved, a timeless memorial that has been accorded World Heritage status by UNESCO (somewhat worse that English Heritage). And, once you stop development you run the danger of something dying. And whilst there is so much to celebrate about the place, it is sad that it has to be preserved. Tourists and pilgrims my benefit from the peace, beauty and 'spirituality' of Assisi, but it is at a cost, as is true for other places like this.

The walk up to the hermitage took 90 mins and seemed steeper than it did half a lifetime ago! The walk back, just 45 mins... I attended the evening's pilgrimage Mass and was once more moved by the singing and devotion and noted the number of young people who attended. There seems no dearth of young vocations to the Religious Life here and one can see others here to consider their call. It's all very impressive as was the procession to the Shrine at the end of Mass. Hundreds of people quietly walking round the tomb, most touching the stone, others wiping handkerchiefs against the walls (just as they did in the Acts of the Apostles). There are always people praying in the churches - how I wish that were true in England! (Of course, I speak of non-RC churches...) Those unknown moments when people are before God in silence - what is the heart saying?

On Sunday I joined the Anglican congregation for Mass at St. Leonard's. They were very hospitable and numbered about 20, many of whom were visitors, like me. Yesterday I walked to the Rocca Magiore, that great fortress which stands guard over the city and has done so since the time of Franc ('tho, again, he would not recognise the structure which was rebuilt in the 16th cent. by the Papal Legate when Assisi was part of the Papal States). I went on to the Cathedral of San Rufino to visit the simple Pieta which has moved so many people. Somehow it didn't quite make the same impression, but later I read that the original had been stolen in 1987...

So my time here, and in Italy, draws to a close. It has been a remarkable tour and quite fulfilled my intentions. I have seen some of the worlds greatest art and architecture and understood something more of the way it developed and the part Renaissance art played in the development of Europe. Today and tomorrow I shall just enjoy being here and enjoying the warmth and brightness of the place. I have been blessed by Brother Sun and watched Sister Moon each evening. And I am grateful to all those who have made this time possible.

SABBATICAL MUSINGS (3)

Assisi - this city of pink and white stone nestling on the green slopes of Mt. Subiaso. I last came here in 1977 dressed in the habit of Francis. At first sight little seems to have changed, except it all looks - fresher. But look again and there are still the cranes rebuilding houses shattered in the terrible earthquake of 1997. But the work of restoration has been painstaking and few would know what has been lost of the great frescoes which adorn the churches here.

I arrived by bus from Perugia on Wednesday and am staying with the Atonement Sisters whose convent guest house overlooks the basilica of Santa Chiara. The views are breathtaking. I discovered I had arrived at the beginning of the Novena for the Feast of San Francesco and went down to the basilica for the 5.45pm Procession and Concelebrated Mass, presided over by the Bishop of Assisi. Once in the lower basilica I realised I was seated beneath the Giotto of Francis (they say its a true likeness) and, as the Mass progressed, found myself moved to tears. A mixture of emotions - knowing that when I was last here I would have been dressed in the same habit as the scores of Franciscans, many of them quite young; the sense of the universality of the Catholic Church; the wonderfully haunting folk music which accompanied the Mass - all this and more brought on an overwhelming sense that here one touches the divine. And it was that, that unexpected encounter with God, which brought on my tears.

Later I found a small, empty restaurant and ate supper in the garden with its panoramic views over the plain and watched the moon as it rose over Umbria.

Yesterday I attended Mass at S. Chiara (in Polish with an interminably long sermon to a score or so Poor Clares) before walking down the hill to San Damiano. That was where the crucifix spoke to Francis and told him to "rebuild the church"; where he first lived before moving to Rivo Torto, and where S. Clare began her first community. It is redolent in meaning; one of those thin places where the mystery of God is to be known.

Afterwards I decided to make a day of it and walked another 4 km to Rivo Torto arriving just as the church closed for siesta. So, finding a cheap roadside cafe, I stretched out my legs and spent a long time over a couple of cups of coffee. I was pleased to have waited as the church, containing the (doubtless rebuilt) huts in which Francis and his first brothers lived and where his body lay for a while after his death, was a tranquil oasis of calm.

Leaving Rivo Torto I was fortunate to find the (hourly) bus to Santa Maria della Angeli arriving. So that meant I didn't have to face another 2km walk!

Whilst many despise the baroque basilica built to house the tiny chapel of the Angels and the place where Franis died, I do not find it overbearing. Indeed, because the place wasn't full of pilgrims and tourists I enjoyed the sense of spaciousness. And this is, first and foremot, a place of prayer. As if to underline that I counted no fewer than 24 confessionals, many of them clearly in use and advertising the languages spoken by the priest. The tiny church possibly goes back to the 6th century and has some moving frescoes. But it is the stillness and prayerfulness of the place (spoilt only by an English tour guide), and the devotion of pilgrims which communicates.

After spending time in the church I walked through to the Chapel of the Roses, past the statue of St. Francis bearing in his hands the tiny nest of white dove. And, with great joy, I found the dove was there, blinking occasionally as a hoard of schoolchildren marvelled at the sight.

The day ended when I took Br. Thomas Anthony SSF out to supper. Today, being yet another fine, sunny and hot day, I think I shall walk up to the Carceri. So many memories...

SABBATICAL SCRIBBLINGS (4)

Perugia - city of Raphael and an ancient university. Last night, most of the students seemed to be out in the Cathedral square just behind my Residenzia celebrating a football game. They left - noisily - between 1am and 3.30am. Come back Florence, all is forgiven!

Apart from that the city has many fine works of the Renaissance but, unlike Tuscany, the baroque has had its influence. Today I have come 60km north to the small city of Borgo San Sepulchro (where Butonie has its spaghetti factory ... but more importantly, Piero della Francesco was born and worked). The city is quiet and quaint, so quiet and quaint that everything (shops, churches, museums) closes at 12.30pm and most dont open until 4pm. Luckily the Museo Civico opened at 2.30pm and I was able to see the great Resurrection by della Francesca. It is very powerful - the figure of the Risen Christ seems to be gaze at you saying - "I have overcome". His figures are quite unlike any others and, from a bust made of him when he was alive, he was a handsome young man. His paintings carry that same beauty about them.

I was also very impressed by the cathedral (when it opened). Built in 11th c. it has retained its romanesque solidity and is bathed in a gentle light from its alabaster windows. There was some great art there, too. An Ascension by Perugino; a moving 11th c. Volto Santo; and 15th c. Madonna. The whole place, in its simpicity, provides a moving setting for these polychrome works. And, as a final gift, I found the 14th c. fresco of St. Thomas Becket. I sense he may be there to remind people of the fate of the church under a secular power (the 14th c. saw the Papal States reasert its power over the city).

Then back to the train which wandered through the Umbrian countryside, poop-pooing at level crossings and finally making the steep ascent to Perugia.

SABBATICAL SCRIBBLINGS (3)

Siena! I fled here from Florence five days ago - the noise of Piazza della Republicca drove me out. The thought of being entertained by the cafe in the Piazza until 1.30am for another day was just too much.

And how glad I am to have made the decision. Siena is quiet and - gracious. Like its art for the Sienese school has a more sensitive quality to it; the eyes of its madonnas draw you more with a smile that seems to tell of her joy.

I am staying in Hotel Villa Liberty, near the centre with vews over the vast church of San Domenica. Its a great improvement on BB Republicca. A short stroll brings me to Il Campo, scene of the famous Palio, and the Duomo. In their different ways, both are majestic. The former because it provides a perfect arena for the race; the latter because it has the most wonderful interior. From its marble pavements portraying great biblical and classical stories in sgraffito, to the design of the building itself with alternate layers of white and black marble rising high to the painted roof. This building - as all the churches here - seem to proclaim the pride Siena has in itself. Indeed, not content with quite a large cathedral, the Commune decided in 1339, when Siena ruled much of southern Tuscany, to expand the then unfinished building so that it would be larger than S. PPeters in Rome. Unfortunately the Black Death in 1348 halted their plans, and decimated the city, a plight from which it hardly recovered.

Siena is divied into contrada, ares under the legal authority of an elected local government. They have existed since at least the 14th centruy and its from these that the runners in the Palio are chosen by lot. Yesterday, on my way to spend time in the Botanical Gardens, I watched as a teenager schooled two children in the ancient art of flag-waving. I was impressed by their enthusiasm and evident delight, in the intricaries and beauty of their movements. I guess they were preparing for next years celebrations. The small amount of crime here is believed to be due to the role of the contrada. People seem genuinely proud of the community and this has an effect on the life of the city. So, no graffiti here - except on the cathedral floor!

On Friday I travelled to San Gimignano, the city of towers which, over the centuried, has changed even less than Siena. Its small population is overwhelmed by tourists but the fact this has, apparantly, happened since the time when Dante and Savanrola came hre for their holidays means that the people are quite used to us. It is a remarkable place and I enjoyed visiting its small, 12th cent. Collegiata with wonderfully fresh frescoes (I particularly liked the Last Supper with a small lamb (?) on a central dish and its very graffic battle-scene which makes any modern horror film look tame!

Tomorrow I move on to Perugia and then Assisi. The sun shines on us after a night of violent storms, and I look forward to seeing another city new to me. I have enjoyed Siena very much - its churches, art and people and I have loved the spaiousness of the palce which I found reflected in the churches it built all those centuries ago. Were they built to accomodate enormous congregations, or were they built for the sheer joy of being able to construct such vast buildings? And, in their simplicity they do not seem to proclaim power: here are foretastes of heaven, gates into eternity. Sacred spaces.

SABBATICAL MUSINGS (2)

When I first came to Italy with my parents, at the time Katherine Hepburn was spending a holiday in Venice, our encounter with beggars, usually outside churches, shocked us. In our very English way we felt our superiority, for there were no beggars in England, That was the consequence of being a Catholic country! How times have changed. There are still beggars here, but fewer and mostly of the traditional kind - ancient women with toothless faces and haggard looks.

It was all part of the way we viewed unreformed Italy - probably Europe. But what this visit has reminded me is of the devastation of art and architecture wrought by the Reformation and Commonwealth. One can hardly recommend Italy for its political life, but what did we loose in England? Might we now be able to boast of our 14th and 15th century art? We may never have bred a Brunelleschi or Giotto, but what was destroyed by similar nameless and unknown artists whose works we admire in Tuscany? Works of which we have no record, just a few traces of the wonders that once enriched our churches and cathedrals by men whose names are not known. Florence gives an idea of what we lost.

However, I will be glad to leave this place! The BB Republica is fine, but the noise from the cafe on the other side of the Piazza has beaten me. So-called jazz blares out each night from 11pm to 1.15am. It is amplified to a point that it must be heard in Pisa and echoes down the side streets and into my window. Complaints have brought shrugs from the manager - "an artist from Verona - you know him?" I didnt and I would not recommend him to anyone who isnt deaf. So I have decided to move to Siena on Wednesday. I planned to visit there but realise I need more than a day to discover the city. And it will give me the chance to explore further afield. So it seems a sensible, if unplanned, move.

SABBATICAL SCRIBBLINGS (3)

"Where can I buy stamps?" "Alla il tabbachi" Yes, but which one! A shrug of the shoulders from most and, in the end it was the monks at San Miniato, which I visited this afternoon, who sold them.

I had been to the 10.30 Cathedral Plansong Mass and then caught the 13 bus up to San Miniato. It lies on a hill just south west of the city and, like Fiesole yesterday, is an oasis of calm. For many this is the finest church in all Florence, founded in 1015 at the site where the head of the Roman soldier, S. Minato, rested after his martyrdom (he was beheaded). The crypt contains the relic and above there is a marvellous choir with an inspiring mosaic Christ Pantocrator by Ravenna craftsmen. The choir is reached by a long flight of steps rising from the nave, the focus of which is a fine baldichino (1448) beneath the apse. The walls are still, mostly, covered by frescoes from the 14th/15th centuries. I loved this place, which is home to the white Benedictine monks of Monte Oliveto) and returned to it for Vespers. But I also took in the wonderful panoramic views of the city from Piazza Michelangelo and saw the storm which had brewed in the afternoon as it passed over the westenr parts of Florence. It sprinkled a few drops on us.

Yesterday I took the bus up to Fiesole. I wanted to get out of an urban environment, which I have been in for most of the past week. Ancient Italy was, of course, dominated by fortified cities like Pisa, Lucca and, now, Florence, and I found myself getting claustrophobic and needing to breathe. Fiesole lets you do just that, and Florentines have used it as an escape for centuries. Its where many built villas to escape the heat of summer. The small Duomo is quietly beautiful and, on one of my walks in the hills, I came across a small, prayerful chapel with the Blessed Sacrament exposed where I spent some time. It belongs to the Poor Clares. I also walked up the steep hill to the monastery of St. Francis, a very rustic place built on the old Roman acropolice. On my return I chanced upon the monastery of the Jerusalem Community (based in Santa Maria della Assunta in Badia Fiorentina. Another wonderful oasis, but in the heart of the city. The community was only founded recently and is mixed, young and growing. (Actually, I have been suroprised, and impressed, by the number of young monks, friars and nuns I have seen around the places I have visited. There still seem to be many vocations to the Religious Life in Tuscany). The church is also the place where Dante first met Beatrice...

So, a week has almost gone by and I feel full of the Renaissance! One thing I have learnt is how far its architecture, in particular, drew upon the-then rediscovered classical period. This was the beginning of that style of art and architecture which was so to influence Eurpose for the next 500 years and was only, from the last century, superceded by modernism.

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Today, Florence, but yesterday it was Lucca!

The birthplace of Puccini, Lucca was wonderful. A walled city small enough to explore in a day, though there were many closed churches I think I saw most of what the city has to offer.

On arrival I walked for about 1 kilometer round half the walls (broad and tree-lined) before descending to my first church - San Frediano... I t was clear that the Romanesque period had an enormous influence on the city and its churches remain great examples of the period. The streets, still full of tourists, were also full of exquisite little shops: it would not be true to say that Lucca ouses sophistication and taste (that would be far too common) but its there when you look. I have never seen so many independent fashion outlets, jewellers, silversmiths etc. in one place. Think Bond Street (without the brands) - and then think BIG.

By noon I had reached the Museum created from the Church of San Giovanni and Santa Reparata. There was a concert performance of Puccini and Mozart so I paid up and enjoyed an hour listening to fine music in a beautiful Romanesque church. Afterwards I spent time in the cathedral, which houses, amongst other treasures, the Volto Santo (Holy Image) - a great wooden effigy of Chris which is processed from San Michele in Foro (where Puccini was a choirboy) back to the duomo on September 13th each year. Shall I make the journey back from Florence? Its one of the great Italian medieval city-celebrations and the Volto Santo, suitably adorned in vestments, a huge 15th cent. crown, jewels, belt and slippers (all in silver etc.) is led through the streets which are strung with lamps, as are many of the buildings (I saw the preparations going on today) and the population in medieval dress.

But what really appealed to me was to be found in the Cathedral museum - a small (7" x 5") Limoges reliquary of St. Thomas Becket dating from the early 13th cent (so soon and so far away), and a perfectly formed labyrinth carved into one of the pillars outside the cathedral.

Theres so much else to record - the intricate carved marble columns on some of the vast Romanesque churches which seem as fresh as the day they were created; the museum, with its collection of huge illuminated plainsong antiphoners (I tried singing from some - quietly...). But what really cought my eye was the pair of liturgical boots which accompanied a fabulous red 17th cent. chasuble. Now when did they become necessary ... and why did it end!!

So, today I travelled to Florence. And what a contrast. My acocmodation is right in the centre (BB Republicca) and theres a real buzz about this city. But few cars. Thankfully these were banned from the centre some years ago. The journey from Pisa took an hour and, after a short rest, I began to explore. My room looks over the Church of Orsanmichele and the masterly Renaissance statues which adorn the exterior, so I visited there first. Dark and silent, the focus is on a large marble tabernacle housing a painting of the Madonna by a student of Giotto. Then on to San Lorenzo, calmly majestic and built in 1420 by Brunelleschi on the orders of the Medici over an earlier church founded in 323. Amongst the paintings (and twin bronze pulpits by Donatelli) was one of San Giuseppi by Pietro Annigoni. It made quite a refreshing change from all those by the great, and not so great, Renaissance artists. This was the Medici family church in Florence and contians their tombs, though not sure I want to pay for the privilege of seeing them (the Guidebook describes the chapel as gloomy).

But I was very moved by the interior of the Baptistry and its 13th/14th cent. mosaics, some by Ciabue. The Pantocrator (28 ft. high) overlooks all with great compassion and beuaty. The church also contains the tomb of the AntiPope John XXIII by Donatelli. How did he get here? Influential friends! Also inside were the three bronze figures by Rustici (1511) which normally stand above the north door but they were being crated up for an exhibition in the USA. Lucky me.

So ended my third day (is that all) of this Grand Tour of Tuscanny and Umbria.

SABBATICAL MUSINGS (1)

A millenia ago this city of Pisa, like many others, was entering a golden age which was to last for almost five hundred years. That period, the Middle Ages, began as Europe emerged out of the Dark Ages. Roughly the period included what is known as the Romanesque and Renaissance in art and architecture, although social developments mirrored and were reflected in what was happening in those two spheres.

A millenia ago Europe, as we know it, did not exist. There was the Papacy and the Empire, and here that was reflected in two factions - Guelfs and Ghibelline's. Each city owed allegiance to one or the other and internal factions constantly emerged which struggled for supremacy. But that sense of allegiance to the city and the feudal Lord (or Lady!) or Prince rather than a State or country (such notions, particularly the latter, hardly existed) must have created a great feeling of belonging and security. Such a worldview meant that whilst communities might owe allegiance to the Prince he (or she) was free to make whatever alliances best suited them. In that sense it seems a truly (feudal) world-view not limited by concepts of nationality, a very modern concept and one which is arguably the cause of many modern problems. New ideas seem to have spread as quickly as travel allowed, and as some people seem to have travelled widely, there was no lack of a sense of development. People seem to have sensed they belonged to the micro - the macro was delineated by faith and faith meant one knew that one belonged to a Kingdom of far greater importance than anything on earth. And that defined behaviour. The Campo Santo wasnt just an exquisite cemetery for its walls were frescoed with scenes to remind people how to live a virtuous life, illustrated with both Christian and Classical imagery, if they were to avoid hell. The rewards for either were graphically portrayed in those early Renaissance paintings. This reminder was backed up by the liturgy of the Church (and this included using whatever means might help people reflect on how to live a Godly life) and the reading of the Scriptures. And how have we improved on that?

In Pisa those who had been prepared for Baptism were taken to the great octagonal Baptistry with its dome pointing to heaven. But it is not part of the duomo - there is still a journey to make before one enters though the great doors to taste of the divine Gifts. Our medieval ancestors had a worldview which was of immense sophistication. It cannot be resurrected, but has it something still to teach us?

SABBATICAL SCRIBBLINGS

Italy! It hits you as you get off the plane. That unmistakeable, pervasive smell of ... a variety of things best left to the imagination.

Having left Gatwick in the cloudy coolness of a late summer day we landed at Galileo Galilei promptly at 2.40pm local time with the sun burning down at 28° The flight was unremarkable, except that BA Economy has dumbed down to Ryanair standards. Unless you are First Class all you get on a flight of under 2hrs is a drink and a bag of nuts. I abjured the wine and settled for a tomato and Worcester sauce (for some reason I always want one when Im flying (these Italian computers have lots of strange characters but dont seem to have an aspotrophè. How annoying).

Pisa ariport is bright, modern and convenient for the city which seems not much bigger than Romford. You might think of the Dogtrack as where the airport is located. It has to be said that the similarities, definitely, end there. Being an adventurous sort I ignored the suggestion of ordering the hotel taxi and caught the bus. That was fine - quick and only 1.50 euro. But how do you stop it? As the hotel flew past I cried out in vain. "Stoppa" didnt work but, in the end, a kindly passenger showed me the tiny red button almost hidden by the door. So I aligfhted on the far side of the Arno and trugged to the hotel in the scorching heat of a Pisan aftenoon. But the hotel, Bologna, is central, 4* and located on a small thoroughfare. It even has free Internet.

Today I made my way to the "Field of Miracles" where the Duomo, Tower, Baptistry etc. are located. The cathedral is Romanesque and quite beautiful and the whole area truly breathtaking. The Cathedral was almost destoyed by fire in 1595 but still has a majestice Christo Pantocrator by Cimbuae in the apse and an amazing pulpit by Pisano, the major Pisan architect of the 14th cent. I didnt enter the Leaning Tower but did look round the Baptistry and heard its beautiful echo. But I found the "Campo Santo" very moving. Begun after Archbishop Llanfranci brought soil back from the Holy Land in the late 12th cent., it is a large, rectangular cloister of gleaming white marble built in the gothic style. Through the 15th cent. the walls were frescoed and were regarded as the finest in the world. Unfortunately they were almost completely destroyed by Allied incendiary bombs in 1944. But the original working drawings have been found and are housed in the Museo delle Simopie and give some indication of the sheer scale of the work. There are also some 19th cent. paintings of the complete series. They must have been breathtaking.

So the day was well spent and now for a rest before trying to find somehting to eat that doesnt come from some unspeakable part of an animal (last night I tried Trippa alla Pisanna. Why!!

Almost take-off...

Just doing last minute prep. before flying off to Italy tomorrow to begin my Sabbatical proper. The excitment mounts, tho' tempered by Chris not being able to come with me...

Today we celebrated our second 'Friends and Families Sunday' at St. Andrew's. This has become a tradition and is clearly popular, with over 140 people present at Mass. It's Suzanne's 'baby', and she delivers well!! Lot's of people involved and a hoard of kids, visitors, brass band etc...
And, at the end, we re-hallowed a statue of Our Lady of Walsingham which I will present to our twin parish of St. Bede, Venice Beach, Los Angeles. Michael Creasey has restored it and the statue looks wonderful. It was given by those members of St. John's, Mawney Road who have made their home with us since the closure of their church.