Day 12 Osimo, Loreto, Assisi: Feeling Alive in Italy; A visit with Flying Friar; The House of Mary & Joseph.

This is part of an ongoing story; if you are just joining the journey, you may want to start at the beginning.  

 

Part 4: Italy love affair part 2

Day 12 – Several towns on the way to Assisi

We have arrived in Ancona in the early morning after a sleepless night on the ferry. We take the bus to the charming town to Osimo. Everywhere in Medjugorje, people complain about the “pushy” Italian tourists.  Having protected a small, half-blind woman from a literal stampede of Italians coming into St. James Church, I understand what they are saying.  Being here, I don’t care about the pushiness and the faults of Italy because I am in love. Walking down a cobblestone path in Osimo, I feel Happy. In  Medjugorje I felt deep peace and joy. Here I just feel naturally happy, my body feels like it's sparkling. Already, after just a few minutes here, I can feel that the surrender and spaciousness I have been experiencing is integrating and deepening just by having my body and soul feel so alive on this land.  It feels like the aliveness of Life, very sensuous and free. 

After a few precious, peaceful moments in the sun gazing out over the hills and valleys of this part of Italy, we embark on a wild race through several towns and cathedrals on our way to Assisi.  Our first stop is just a short walk away, the Osimo Cathedral.  (photo) We don’t spend much time there, because we have a scheduled visit with a levitating monk.

Basilica of St. Joseph of Copertino Yes, St. Joseph of Copertino is known as the Flying Friar!  No joke, St. Joseph supposedly went into such ecstasy that he could levitate, and even managed to “fly” several miles.  Someone in our group said that he is the basis for the Flying Nun TV series as well as the Smallville/Superman series. 

For some reason, the sanctuary and crypt are just not drawing me, so when we have some free time, I slip out of the cathedral and explore more of the town.  Osimo’s ancient stone architecture and cobblestone streets, lined with colorful spring flowers, are charming.

We slip into a pasticceria and order the most dreamy puffy pastry wrapped around cheese and a slice of some kind of parma (Italian ham).  We run into several other clever pilgrims who already had the same idea, and I think the pasticceria is making a decent income today.  I get a photo of the butcher next door.

Holy House of Loreto, Housed in Basilica

When I walk into the basilica, I feel the wonderful presence of peace, resonant with what I felt of the Mary energy in Medjugorje.  This is a special Basilica that houses three walls of what is supposed to be Mary’s home from Nazareth – magically transported to Loreto by angels.  Yes, I’m skeptical.  But I’m open, so I walk into the Holy House itself, within the large Basilica.  Oddly enough, that sweet peace I felt in the rest of the basilica is gone.  I touch the stones to see if I can “feel” any other energies.  Zero.  Now I’m very skeptical – not that my antennae are the final answer, but gosh, you’d think I’d feel something. I watch others pray in devotion, they are very moved.  I can’t share that with them, so in respect for their reverence I exit the house and take photos of the rest of the basilica.  I run into one confused Italian tourist who thinks I am Italian – it was very sweet, but pretty much all I can say in Italian is a bunch of food words (of course), “I don’t understand Italian,” and “I am an American” (translation - sorry, dude).

A little while later my mother found a brochure explaining that the Vatican lost some documents which verified that someone (a human!) collected all the stones from Mary’s house and transported them to Loreto and reconstructed the house.  That sounds much more likely, but I also find it humorously convenient that the Vatican “lost” this documentation.

We have mass downstairs in a cozy little stone chapel. I quickly notice that the grace that held me captive in mass in Medjugorje has gone. I have a new respect for mass, but it has its limitations. As I disco dance in my head while the priest reads from the Bible, I realize that I have reached my limitation.

During mass we begin to hear a magical chorus of voices from above singing hymns in Latin.  When we walk upstairs through the main sanctuary, all the seats are filled with a gigantic chorus.  They are rehearsing!  I learn that they are part of a Festival of Sacred Music.  I record a tiny section of their rehearsal with my iphone. 

St. Nicholas of Tolentino Basilica  This houses the remains of St. Nicholas (1246 – 1305), a friar who was known for his piety, his visions of Mary and other saints, his ability to heal, and, amazingly, to resurrect the dead.  Of course the basilica is gorgeous as they all are, but there are two unique things I really love here.  One is the courtyard – the aged mural paintings around the circumference of the square captivate me, making me regret that I have to rush through it to catch up with the group.

My second favorite part is the museum.  There is a showcase of miniature scenes of St. Nicholas’ life; incredible detail of the most significant parts of his life. I also discover a painting that stops me in my tracks, bringing me right into my heart: “The Ecstasy of St Nicholas of Tolentino.”

 

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In preparation for our trip to Assisi, on the bus we get to watch another Catholic cartoon!  This one is about the life of St. Francis.  (I would later joke that St. Francis’ father in the cartoons is a lot fatter than the statue of him in Assisi.)  This one isn’t quite as funny as the one about Fatima, and I actually learn a few things about Francis I didn’t know. 

One of my favorite stories of St. Francis is about his transformation from son of a wealthy merchant to pious friar.  He had a life of privilege, rich with friends and a talent for selling the fabrics of his father’s business.  When he began to have his turn around to God, it culminated in a scene in the town square where his father disowned him publicly for his love for God and his lack of “responsibility” to the family business.  Francis removed all his fine clothing right there in the middle of the square, symbolically and physically removing his ties with his wealthy upbringing, his family, and his inheritance.  He declared that his true father was Jesus and his true mother Mary.  The bishop who was present removed his own robe and placed it on St. Francis.  What inspires me most about this is that he had the courage not to follow the path laid out before him.  He listened to something deeper and more true for him, and then had the courage to follow it.  His life was very difficult after that, but he persevered in complete devotion to God.

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We finally arrive in Assisi and collapse in our hotel. I am looking forward to a good meal like we had in San Giovanni Rotondo: nice wine, delicious pasta, some kind of main course…and gelato! Beware of expectations. We eat very chewy rigatoni (I bite my lip in an effort to chew it - beyond al dente) with arrabiata sauce, chicken, fries, and eggnog gelato which is extraordinarily unappealing to me (so my mom dutifully eats my dessert).  Not a fruit or vegetable in sight. This might make some folks quite happy; I feel heavy and I am craving something fresh. My mom and I joke about whether or not this is the hotel’s idea of what Americans like to eat.  This is one of those moments I would prefer to be treated like an Italian!

I’d love to hear your thoughts and insights! Post a comment here or email Sonya@illuminatedwisdom.com.

Coming Thursday: Day 13 Assisi : Breakthrough! How a Zealot Is Born; The Grace of St. Clare; St. Francis’ Love in the Stones; The Canticle of the Sun.