Visiting Friends and Saints: Venice, Padua, Florence

It was like a foot high.

What a joy it has been these last few days! I have been in Italy for almost four days, and it has been quite a whirlwind.  We arrived in Venice after a series of flights with very little sleep and were immediately thrown into the thick of things. It has been raining in Venice for several days in a row, and so the water levels are super high at high tide. There are walkways that lead everywhere so you don't have to walk in the water. Of course there are vendors everywhere selling these convenient plastic boots, but I wouldn't cave. It was a little crowded on the planks, but we made it work.

So expensive

Some highlights from Venice: this first day was the only day on the whole tour we do not have to sing, and good thing too, because we were all super tired. We spent much time walking around the city and seeing the various famous spots. We got to go to this place where they sold Murano glass, and they had a little glass making demonstration where this guy made a carafe in like two seconds with what appeared to be no effort.  The students were all very impressed.  And then he threw what he made back into the fire as though it were not big deal. We went upstairs to look at what they sold and saw many similar carafes for many many Euros.

Preparing to sing in San Marco's

On Sunday, we got to sing in the Basilica San Marco, which has mosaics covering the entire ceiling. It was very impressive. It was really difficult space to sing in, but we did okay. It was nice to hear Mass in Italian again (though I forgot my book with the Mass parts in Italian). Later that day, the adults and chaperones got some time off while the parents came and took their kids out for the day. With my free time, I got to visit my friend Mandi (who I used to teach with at St. Joe's) and her family, who live at the US Air Force base north of Venice, and who Ed and I had seen this summer in Parma. I had let them know about our Mass at San Marco's and so they came and heard us, and then we went out to lunch and toured Venice for the day. It was really cool to see them again, and we had a lot of fun.

Basilica of St. Francis

The next morning, we left Venice and passed through Padua. In Padua, we got to visit the Scrovegni Chapel, which had these very beautiful frescos depicting events from the life of Jesus and Mary, and this really cool fresco of the Last Judgement. Then I hopped a taxi over to the Basilica of St. Anthony and went and prayed a special prayer for my grandma at the tomb of St. Anthony, since she had had a special devotion to him (which also happened to rub off on me). It was really powerful to be before the actual tomb of a saint.

San Lorenzo

From Padua, we drove to Florence for the second leg of our tour. That evening we got to sing Mass at the Church of San Lorenzo for the memorial of St. Leo the Great. The sad thing about singing the concerts and the Masses in these churches is that we get precious little time to look around and appreciate their beauty, but I guess we see so much stuff that there is precious little time.

Which brings us to today, which began with some epic tours of various museums, starting with the statue of David. It seemed strange to start with David since everything else kind of paled in comparison, but oh, well. But I also got to have a cool adventure of sorts today. So it turns out that the author (Meg) of one of the blogs I follow (piercedhands.com), and with whom I was slightly acquainted (by way of prayer intentions) happens to be on a pilgrimage/speaking tour in Europe and by chance (or by providence, rather) happened to be in Florence today. I invited her to our concert that night and we wound up meeting up for lunch. We had an excellent chat about Catholicsm, teaching, vocations, and Fanta (how European Fanta is so much better than American Fanta). You might say European Fanta is Fanta-stic. Ha ha.  But don't worry, I didn't make that joke at our first meeting (didn't want to ruin my first impression, after all). I've read some of her blog, and she's read some of mine, and so it was kind of funny to jump into conversation with someone new when in a way you already knew each other but not really. After lunch we went to Eucharistic Adoration, which Meg had found in a church earlier that day, which was exactly the thing I needed. Before leaving our separate ways, we made sure to get a selfie:

Blog Power!

San Stefano

The concert at San Stefano that night went pretty well. The students are all really excited and high strung, which makes it difficult for everyone to focus, but that kind of challenge is what makes these things so much fun. I was having such fun singing in this beautiful choir, and I smiled so much during this concert (despite a few rocky pieces). I can't remember smiling that much during any performance. Usually I am so serious. Well, I guess I was still serious, but I was able to let some of what I was feeling shine through. Sometimes I can't believe that I get to sing in such a talented choir, singing the music that I love to sing, and performing it in the context in which it is meant to be performed (the liturgy).

Here in Italy, meeting old friends and new, old saints (and perhaps some new), praising God in song, I have much to be grateful for.

The Return to Rome: Cathedral Choir Performance Tour

So, after many months, I am returning to Italy.  I think I alluded to this return in the blog previously.  The Madeleine Choir School, the only coed Catholic choir school in the United States, goes on a performance tour/pilgrimage every four years to Italy (with tours to other foreign countries every two years in between).  This being my fourth year in the choir, it is the first opportunity to sing there.

One thing that worked out pretty well is that all the great northern Italian cities we had to pass by on Belloc's Path to Rome are cities I'll get to see on this tour.  We start in Venice, then we stop by Padua, then a stay in Florence, then a brief stop in Assisi (where I think we get to sing in the Basilica of St. Francis), and then on to Rome for the final five days.  There we get to sing in St. John Lateran and St. Peter's Basilica (for Sunday Mass, too!) among others.

Right now I am in the airport in SLC waiting to head to JFK in New York, simply hoping I can get some sleep on the plane after a late night of grading, last minute classroom and sub preparation stuff, and packing.  It wasn't technically an all-nighter, but it was close.  And I'm sure that it will be worth it.

I'll hopefully be posting from time to time while in Italy, and if you want to see more pictures than you can see here, you can check out my Instagram.  My username is just lukestager.

Ciao!

A Magical World: A Long Drawn Out Tale of a Single Day of Wandering in and around Fruita, CO

Since the school year began two months ago, I have been just itching for an adventure. While it's true that I've already begin planning my big adventure for next summer, those delightful months are a long way off, and I find myself restless. So, having a four day weekend, I found that the time was ripe. On Thursday morning, I found myself in Fruita, CO at the threshold of country as pretty as heaven.

As usual with all my stories, I must give a preface. A couple of years ago, I found myself watching the Wes Anderson movie, Moonrise Kingdom, which, briefly, is about two kids who run away together and have an adventure. After watching the movie, I found myself hungry for adventure, but knowing that it was late on a Saturday night and I'd have to be back at school on Monday, I knew my options were limited. Really though, I wanted nothing more than to just drive. Though it was about 11PM, I thought I might just drive for five hours, sleep in the car, and then wake up and drive back home. Not much of an adventure, I suppose, but it would do. 

So where to drive? At first I thought I might drive West on I-80. One of these wonderful deserted regions where it's just you and the open road. But I'd been that way before, and, I realized, I'd gone both I-15 north and south. The only direction left was east. I whipped out my Utah state atlas and saw that if you follow I-80 for just a little while, you would get to Wyoming, and there was a tiny town, Evanston, just on the other side. That would be my adventure: to drive to a new state and explore the town just over the border. And that is just what I did. I had only two specific objectives: find a map of the town and find a Catholic church (or discover that there isn't one). 

Now, this was a while back, but I enjoyed the experience so much that I decided that I wanted to explore more small towns. Specifically, I decided that I would drive to the first small town just over the border of Utah at each of the interstates and complete my objectives of obtaining a map and visiting a Catholic church.  So far I've done Evanston, WY (I-80 E), Rupert, ID (I-84 W), and Malad City, ID (I-15 N).  When I tell people I've visited these towns, they often say, "There's nothing there."  Nothing could be further from the truth.

So, this week I found myself on I-70 heading to Fruita, CO.  Wow, that was a really long preface.  I suppose these adventures might seem to some to be quite unremarkable, but to me they are like hidden treasures scattered across a vast land that are just waiting to be found.  There is a certain charm and magic in small towns, and I love discovering it.

I woke early on a chilly Colorado morning in the back of my car to a glorious sunrise.  I'd set my alarm, but the cold was enough to wake me up on its own.  I drove into town to make it to Mass at the local Catholic Church (Sacred Heart).  Not a few locals were just wrapping up the fifth Luminous mystery of the Rosary.  Unfortunately, there was no priest, as he had fallen ill, but they had a Communion service instead.  I was actually quite impressed with the number of people who had turned out for this service, probably between 20 and 30, which I thought was pretty good for such a small town.

After the service, a few parishioners came up to me and asked where I was from.  I just said I was passing through, opting not to go through the convoluted process of explaining my penchant for small town adventures.  I asked one of the gentlemen what is the one thing to do in Fruita if you were going to be here for only a few hours and probably never return.  He suggested visiting the Colorado National Monument, which is a beautiful series of canyons and rock formations that one can drive through and enjoy in about 2-3 hours.  I also asked about some nice breakfast places and got a couple of recommendations.

I made a quick stop at the visitor's center back at the rest stop, and the man working there was very earnest in telling me about how wonderful Colorado was.  He, too, recommended the Colorado National Monument.  I decided that this would be my ultimate destination.  I headed back into town to grab some breakfast.  I settled on a not-so-charming restaurant called Judy's, which was nestled in a large strip of stores without much character on the outside.  But the restaurant's lack of flash did not in any way affect the deliciousness of the Meat Lover Skillet I ordered.  If I were a trucker, this is where I would stop every time I passed through Fruita.  Such deliciousness.  You know how when you get the box to go, you realize later on that the food wasn't really worth saving and maybe you throw it away?  Not so with this food.  I had a delicious lunch the next day and it was still awesome.

After eating, I decided I'd better spend a tiny bit of time in the town
before I went up to the monument, so I grabbed my copy of the Complete Poems of Robert Service, perfect for any adventure, and headed into the town square and read a few poems.  Such quiet moments are rare in the life of one so busy, and I cherished it.

From there, I headed out of a town, that had I not decided to visit, I would never have seen, and that I will most likely never see again and headed up to the Colorado National Monument.  I decided that in such a sacred place that I ought to keep my radio turned off.  Silence for two hours is magnificent.  There's not much to say here other than what I can say through pictures.  They don't capture it.

At about 2PM, I decided I ought to be heading back to SLC.  But my adventurous spirit was driving me at this point.  I hadn't realized until I'd checked my map in the car that Arches is really close to I-70, and so I decided that I ought to visit that iconic Utahn landscape that so many know from our license plates.  Once again, words don't work much here, but the one thing I can say is that I will definitely be going back there.  My pictures are pretty unremarkable.

And so I returned home that evening, not more than 28 hours since I'd left.  We often say we have no time, but don't we?  In one grand day out, I was able to gratefully explore a magical world.

Day 43 and Beyond: Leaving Rome

I have to sadly admit that this blog post is long overdue, but I have gotten separate requests from three people, despite the fact the fact that I have been back in the states for a month now.

I get to sing here!

Let's see, among the sites we saw in our last days there were the Colosseum, the Roman forum, St. John Lateran, St. Mary Major, the Scala Sancta (sort of by accident), Sant'Ignazio (where the shrine of St. Aloysius Gonzaga is), among other things, not to mention that we got to see the pope from far away.  He gave his Angelus address.  I didn't understand anything except for the prayer (since it was in Latin).  The coolest thing to think about is that when I come back to Rome with the cathedral choir, I will get to sing in some of those churches.

Papa Paco (as I like to call him) from far away

 So I guess the primary purpose of this post would be to say that I did make it home safely and mostly without incident.  It's strange to say, but a lot of the impact of the trip didn't hit me until I had finally left.  By the time we had arrived, I was somewhat homesick and I was eager to get back to the states and see my family and friends and do what I could to get ready for the next school year (my fourth at the school I'm at now and my sixth year teaching overall).

After returning from a trip like this, I have come to realize how much I overobsessed about a lot of little things.  Many aspects of my life were put into perspective, and I came to decide that there are certain things that it's simply not worth it to put up with and certain things in my life that require much more attention.  It's given me the inspiration to actually go and do the things I really want to do without as much hesitation and anxiety over all the other pressures of my life.

I guess the real 'revelation' was simply a heavy re-emphasis of that favorite quote of mine from The Office, where Pam is making up reasons why she can't go to the art school program the company provides.  Jan says to her, "There are always a million reasons not to do something."  This has been an inspiration to me in the past, but this trip has made me rekindle my faithfulness to it.  I am so good at making excuses to not do the things I really want to do, but after this trip, it's like, 'Hey, you just went on a trip across Europe having a million reasons not to have done it.  Were any of those reasons good enough?  Then are any of the excuses you make for other things good enough?'

"There are always a million reasons not to do something."

Obviously, though, there are plenty of things I want to do in life, and I simply can't do all of them.  So this has forced me to realize that I need to make a commitment to a few, and thus I've had to decide what is really important to me.  Sure, watching The Office in the evening is fun and relaxing, but I would much rather be writing or reading or hiking or hanging out with friends.  When I die, I am certain I will not say that I wish I had spent more time watching The Office.

This trip has also taught me not to care so much what people think.  When you have to walk into relatively nice restaurants smelling of damp, sweaty clothes that have not been washed for 20 days and speak a language you do not know very well.  You begin not to care what people think as long as you get your food.  I'm certain I will still worry about what people think, but I will not let that worry prevent me from doing what I want or what is very important to me.

It is also very strange to have left Ed, my companion for a month and a half through joy and sorrow, peril and discovery, only to have to lead our separate lives again.  We are both Catholic High School teachers now (theology teachers to boot).  Maybe we really are brothers.

All these things are simply shadows of all the things I've been thinking about.  I plan to do a post further down the line about some more in depth conclusions/thoughts I've had since returning, but that will have to wait for another time.  In the meantime, we can say that this post is the closing post for the trip, and all else henceforth will be simply musings from a Catholic High School teacher who happens to have gone on a pilgrimage.  But be sure to stay tuned for next summer: The Trodden Road to Trondheim: An Merry American Pilgrim Walks from Oslo to the Shrine of St. Olaf and Discovers His Norwegian Roots.

Okay, perhaps that subtitle is way too long, but that's okay.  The pilgrimage will be long too.

Day 40: Rome

Ed and I have been in Rome now for a few days and it is kind of difficult to describe all the things we have done and all the feelings resulting therefrom. I could go on and on about all the churches and historical Roman buildings or the Vatican, etc., but I'm not certain I can really effectively communicate any idea about my experience that isn't simply a shadow. 

To be sure, we have been walking a bit, though it is nice to be done with our packs. Upon first reaching St. Peter's Square and viewing it from a distance, Ed and I ran with joy to cross over the border. After some prayers and pictures, I made sure to blow the vuvuzela, though quickly, to avoid being arrested by the Swiss guards. 

Our new Danish Via Francigena friend arrived in Rome yesterday, and today the three of us visited some ancient Roman ruins and St. John Lateran, which his the parish church of the pope. 

The main highlight for me today was to visit the church of St. Ignatius of Loyola. It is in this church that the major shrine of St. Aloysius Gonzaga is located, along with his remains below the altar. I guess you could say that St. Aloysius and St. Gemma are my two main patron saints, so getting to go to Mass and pray at both of their shrines was quite a blessing. 

Visiting the shrines of my very favorite saints has led me to want to renew my devotions which have more recently fallen by the wayside. 

On a related note, seeing all the papal stuff around here has made me kind of want to try again to memorize all the popes. But maybe that's not the best use of my time. But the last time I tried, I did discover that there is a Pope Lando. Now that he's in heaven (hopefully), one could say that he lives in Cloud City. Sorry, couldn't resist a terrible Catholic Star Wars pun. What a great way to end this post. 

Day 36: One Day Away from Rome

Ed and I will be in Rome tomorrow. If you have been following the blog, you might wonder how we got here so fast considering where we were a few days ago. We must admit that we took the train and the bus a few times for various reasons, most importantly that we decided that being in Rome and enjoying it for four or five days is more important to us than trying to walk the whole way, especially since we have already been obliged to take public transit. We did wak through most of Tuscany. 

We were prepared to make a good long walk today, but what should have been a good night's sleep camping was prevented by several barking dogs, whose homes we were not really close to at all. After waiting a good 20 minutes for the dogs to just give up their incessant barking, we finally decided to leave. After walking for ten minutes, the dogs had continued barking on and off. We searched in vain for another suitable spot. Finally, we arrived at a tiny town with a church. We decided to sleep in an alcove behind the church, but it was too late to get a decent amount of sleep, especially since we had to wake up early to make sure no one from the town happened upon us. 

After a morning of having to walk on a moderately busy road with and then having to climb an unpleasant hill to Acquapendente, all the while being harassed by even more dogs. Not to mention that it started to rain and that Acquapendente was not a particularly enchanting town. So distressed and tired were we that we decided to take the bus all the way to Montefiascone, where we had booked a hostel. Sure we 'could have' walked there, but I blame the dogs. This trip has determined that Ed and I will never be dog owners but that we may be donkey owners. Aw, Baracuda!

But the day before yesterday, we had a great day because we made some new friends. Ed and I met two Italian guys doing the Via Francigena from Siena to Rome. We walked with them from Ponte d'Arbia to San Quirico d'Orcia and talked about many things. We all enjoyed the Tuscan landscape together. Along the way we met a young lady from Denmark who joined our party for the rest of the day. She is an engineer, which was cool because it made me remember my own engineering days. She and Ed and I talked about differences between Europe and the US and she also taught me to count to ten in Danish. Together the five of us enjoyed a splendid meal in San Quirico. 

So though there have been difficult days like today and yesterday, but meeting new friends along the way makes it all worth it. 

Day 33: Saints Alive: Visiting Lucca and Siena

This will unfortunately have to be a somewhat short post since I have to be moving soon. Ed and I have just finished our time in Siena, where the shrine of St. Catherine of Siena is located. A few days before this, we were in Lucca, where the shrine of St. Gemma Galgani is, as you already know. 

Being able to visit the shrines of these saints has been an extraordinary grace for me. To be able to see the places important tithe lives of these saints who I so admire really lifts my heart up to God and makes me want to rededicate my life to God. Whenever I hear a great violinist play, it makes me want to go home and start practicing my violin again. And likewise, when I contemplate the lives of the saints, it makes me want to grow closer to God. 

The cities here are beautiful, but more beautiful are those whose lives reflect the light of God.