Blustery Halloween

I do enjoy Halloween. I enjoyed it long before it became a highly popular commercial holiday. I have my bedroom fireplace decorated with orange lights and many pumpkin shapes. Orange is my favorite color and autumn is a splendid time of year. All the colors dazzle brightly before they gently give away to winter's brilliance.

I am recovered from my jet lag, but I desired to remain in bed this morning because it was a soft, leisurely day. I was on call to say Mass, but in the end, I was not needed. The other mass I was to attend was cancelled because of the snow. I used the morning profitably by cleaning up emails and doing some paperwork. Nothing seems to be pressing my schedule.

Yesterday I went to Logan airport to collect two pilgrims from their return trip to Spain. I missed them. I think they were on a later flight that was delayed.

I enjoyed being at the airport, however. I watched all the smiles as travelers were greeted by friends and loved ones at the terminal. One woman sobbed when her male friend arrived. Another woman rushed to greet her husband, but was stopped abruptly when she saw her two daughters holding up a child-made welcome-home sign. Others were silent as they approached each other and kissed tenderly. Many beautiful expressions of love are captured at the terminal. It is so nice to have a happy face greet you when you return.

Back at the retreat house, I'm happy to say we did not receive any snow, but the waves are very active. I just want to lazingly flit away the hours as I watch them roar and crash.  The sun is strong but it is cool outside. It will be a good temperature for an hour's worth of outdoor yard clean-up.

Next weekend, I'm happy to host the Jesuit provincial of Australia. He will visit other Jesuits who are studying and teaching in the U.S., but they will come visit the retreat house because they've heard so much about it.

Life feels good. I'm still thrilled with the graces I received from the Ignatian trip to Spain. I keep thinking I see my fellow pilgrims wherever I go. The mind plays tricks all too often. I'm just blessed that Christ can save all these things in my memory.

I tallied 2,810 photos that I took on the pilgrimage to Spain.

The Seraphim Singers

Please join the Seraphim Singers at 8pm on November 5th at St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Central Square for the first concert of our 15th anniversary season.

 An American Sampler From the colonial era to the present day, American composers have bequeathed a rich legacy of choral music. Exploring the breadth and depth of this tradition, the Seraphim Singers, with organist Heinrich Christensen, presents works by Billings, Chadwick, Ives, Copland, Persichetti, and a newly commissioned work by Carson Cooman.

Jennifer Lester, Conductor with Heinrich Christensen, Organ 8:00 P.M. Saturday, November 5, 2011 St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Central Square 838 Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge Directions and parking information: www.seraphimsingers.org/concerts/

 Argento Easter Day
 Billings O Praise the Lord of Heaven
 Bradbury Seek ye the Lord
 Chadwick Benedictus, Op. 6
 Cooman Exaltation (world premiere)
 Copland Four Motets
 Dutton Let the Bright Seraphim
 Ives Sixty-Seventh Psalm
 Persichetti Mass for Mixed Chorus
 Sowerby Magnificat in E minor
 Stevens An Epitaph for Sara and Roland Cotton
 Whitacre Lux Aurumque

 Tickets: $20 Adults / $15 Students & Seniors, available at the door using cash, check, or credit card.

 Visit www.seraphimsingers.org for additional details.

Barcelona

Some of us pilgrims were beginning to lament the short duration of time left to us on this pilgrimage. We rose early and packed the bus before heading down for a hearty breakfast. Breakfast always has lots of meat and cheeses. I will become a short-term vegetarian when I get home just so I can offset all the protein I took in.

The morning was foggy because of last night's rain. We were happy for the rain because all the children were forced to be inside with their parents. Thus, we were able to sleep. The fog against the mountains conjured up mystical times.

The bus ride to Barcelona normally is a short trip, but we were heading into rush hour traffic, which is much later than ours in the States. We also suffered delays because of a traffic accident that slowed movement for at least 8 miles. We were happy though.

Once we arrived in Barcelona, we headed for the Jesuit community residence of the provincial staff. A parish church was getting ready for its daily liturgy. The main church housed the sword that Ignatius lay down at Our Lady's feet at Montserrat. We had Mass in the St. Ignatius chapel and was the celebrant. We shared our major graces during the Mass.

We then drove down La Diagonal, one of the main thoroughfares in the city. Las Ramblas intersects the road as it makes its way to the Meditteranean Sea.

Along the route, we saw houses designed by the famed architect, Antonin Gaudi. We then visited a Gothic church where Ignatius taught school children the catechism of the church. It was a relief to see a Gothic church after seeing so many Baroque churches. It was simple and elegant. It did not show a triumphant, other-worldly Christ, but one who was revered for his fidelity to God. The softness of the lights revealed human emotions of the saints. I took a photograph of Anthony Mary Claret whose feast day it was.

As we made our way to Las Ramblas, several of us stopped into a restaurant called Compostela because we liked the named. When we were ushered into the far back room, we saw all the other pilgrims at other tables. We enjoyed another meal together before setting out into the deluge of rain that washed the city.

We made it back to our hotel to dry off before dinner. I laughed when I saw my room. Each room of the trip for me was very comfortable and spacious, but this one was so small that I could sit back on my bed sideways and touch the opposing wall with my feet. It was a hoot. If I tried to sit in the bathtub, my knees would hit my chin. I have never been so scrunched, but it was the most comfortable mattress of the trip. If only air had circulated so I could breathe.

We met in the hotel's bar for a glass of cava (champagne) and then had tapas at a nearby restaurant. It was terrific because we did not feel like eating much. We all thought we would have a short meal and retire early. We had so much laughter that we stayed an obligatory four hours. Mariana finally found her cell phone. Everyone was celebrating and wishing each other well as we were returning to our separate lives.

Joe and Jeanne and Gene and Mary Ann were the first to part from us. We were sad to leave them behind - but they were spending four additional days in Barcelona.

The flight back to Boston was thankfully uneventful. Others had to catch connecting flights. When I returned to Gloucester, I went to chorus rehearsal. No coherent words could come out of my mouth, but I went. When I returned home, I went to bed - missing my friends.

Our Last Night Together

To see photos of our last night together as pilgrims, please click on the link below:

Pics of Barcelona's Last Night

Photo: Barcelona and Sagrada Familia

To see photos of Barcelona and Sagrada Familia, please click on the link below:

Pics of Barcelona Set 1

Pics of Barcelona Set 2

Pics of Barcelona Set 3

Pics of Barcelona Set 4

Inside the Montserrat Basilica

We had an early rise this morning to attend vigils at the Basilica before breakfast. We thought we might as well catch the liturgy before the hoards of visitors took over the basilica.

Breakfast was filled with meats and cheeses and lots of protein. We were stuffed to start the day.

We went through the church through a path that led behind the altar and up a staircase to see the statue of Our Lady of Montserrat. (Montserrat means serrated or sawn mountain.) Ignatius prayed in vigil to Our Lady after he lay down his sword and clothing to take on a pilgrim’s life. He went to the Benedictine monastery to confess his sins. He was beset with scruples and confessed his whole life’s sins – often going back to a confessor when he forgot to mention a particular sin. He stayed in prayer and vigil before Our Lady as he reviewed his history. Eventually, the priests told him he would have to move on.

We had Mass at a chapel behind the main altar. We could see the backside of the Madonna as we sat in the congregation.

Since fog covered the mountains, we all wanted to get outside to see the spectacular site. I wanted some private time so I walked a path that seemingly led to nowhere. After 35 minutes of walking and no sign of a map, I turned around. I went to my room to read, but I fell asleep for 10 minutes. I did not feel refreshed, but it was time for lunch. I only had time to look at the gift shops.

I went back to my room after a very tasty lunch. I was going to read for ½ an hour before I trekked to the top of the mountain, but I fell asleep for two hours. I was annoyed with myself for wasting the day. All my fellow pilgrims journeyed to the top of the mountain and I wanted to be with them.

We then attended vespers again and had a hearty dinner. I went out for an evening walk and came back to update my photos. I only took 208 today – a slow day.

Photos of the Montserrat Basilica

To see photos of the Montserrat Basilica, please click on the link below:

Pics of Montserrat Basilica Set 1

Pics of Montserrat Basilica Set 2

Outdoors at Montserrat, north of Barcelona

Today we pilgrims ventured to the Benedictine monastery of Montserrat just north of Barcelona. From the mountains, we think we can see the city of Barcelona and the Mediterranean sea. We arrived in the afternoon and we pleased with the mountain shapes. We were all hungering to get out for a walk.

Most of us took the funicular to the cave where the Madonna was hidden to preserve it from the invading forces. However, none of us knew when the invasion took place or who sent the invading armies. Anyways, the Black Madonna was recovered and restored to her rightful place in the Monastery Basilica.

First, we took the funicular down the mountain to get to the cave. Most of us were hoping that the funicular meant air gondolas, but that was for pilgrims from the train station below to arrive at the monastery. Those of us with vertigo really did not have to worry about heights. The funicular traveled slowly, not too steeply, and we felt secure because land was all around us.

Afterwards, we took the funicular to the top of the mountain to see the sweeping vistas. We did well in negotiating a combination ticket to get both trips at the discounted rate. The trails at the top led to various hermitages along the way. Mountain climbers had finished their climbing and were returning to their lodging. They had long ropes around their necks as they clomped down the trails with great speed.

Several pilgrims saw a type of goat at the mountain’s crest. They called them antelope and they yet may be. On the photos at the monastery we only saw various pictures of goats.

Few of us went inside the Basilica because we were saving it for Sunday. As the sun was out brightly, we didn’t want to miss a chance at mountain climbing. Some of us did make it to vespers where the Boy Choir sings.

Dinner at this hotel “Abbas Ciscneros” was first class and it ended with a dessert slice of ricotta with Montserrat honey drizzled over it. Though it was good and fresh, some pilgrims desired more so we went on a quest for helado, but no tienda was open by the time dinner ended.

Our search led us to an exciting walk in the dark where owls were hooting. We could not see much of Barcelona below us because the mountains were in the way, but the darkened path trails made every step of the way an adventure. We returned to the hotel and readied for sleep. It did not come for many because teenagers where playing on the swing sets until 1:00 a.m. I watched the BBC news and CNN.

Photos: Montserrat

To see photos of Montserrat from the outside , please click on the link below:

Pics of Montserrat Set 1

Pics of Montserrat Set 2

Pics of Montserrat Set 3

Pics of Montserrat Set 4

Zaragosa and beyond

We left Javier Castle bright and early. As the warm sun crept over the mountains, its rays made the hard stone castle look warm and soft.

 This was our driving day. We passed through the dry Aragon region and eventually ended in Catalan, which also is fiercely independent. The Basque separatists have decided to lay down their weapons to push for peace with the larger Spanish realm; the Catalans, though they don't advocate violence and are fully incorporated into Spain, retain a stiff attitude towards their identity.

 Along the route, we saw the Camino de Compostela with its signature icon of the scallop shell of the pilgrim. We traveled loosely the Camino Ignacio. Our arrival is Zaragosa took our collective breath away as we looked upon the Zaragosa Shrine to Our Lady of Pilar. It was set behind Roman ruins providing a contrast with its Baroque style.

Our Lady of Pilar is known for her appearance to the pilgrim James seven years after the death of Jesus in Zaragosa. James is said to have traveled to the ends of the earth - meaning northwest Spain and Our Lady appeared to him to encourage him on his journey. Mass was going on at the basilica. I think some Mass or Marian feast is always occurring. Many priests are on hand to hear confessions or to say Mass.

The traditional action of the pilgrim is to kiss the marble piece dedicated to Our Lady when one arrives, which we did. One is not to take photos of anything while Mass is occurring. An exhibition of Goya's works are at the shrine. A nearby museum contains more works.

The Cathedral is nearby. It is a place of many weddings. The Plaza Mayor is hopping with townspeople out for celebrations. Many wedding photos were being taken in the Plaza. Some of us pilgrims took a break from photography to eat a light lunch before we boarded the bus for a five-hour drive to Manresa.

The trip had more interesting scenery as we traveled through various landscapes and saw various fruit tree orchards. We remained south of the Pyrenees by 80 miles. The Pyrenees in winter is an attractive place for skiers.

 We arrived at Manresa at evening's first light. We became excited to see the River Cardoner where Ignatius found a cave opposite a hospital to spend some quiet time. He remained there for eleven months.

The shrine to Ignatius is set over the cave where he stayed. I had the great and awesome privilege of being the primary celebrant at the Cave. I'm astounded. My heart was elated. We had lovely singing by Marybeth Joyce andcred events of Manresa. We will return to the cave today to take some photographs and to spend some Euros on po Joe Castelano. Frs. Mark and Ed concelebrated. Clare gave a terrific reflection on the sastcards.

Dinner was at the Hotel Pere III where we are staying. We were about to burst for all the food and wine we consumed. All of us pilgrims were dragging. I wish everyone a rejuvenating rest so we can continue our pilgrimage with joy and energy tomorrow

Photos: Zaragosa and Manresa

To see photos of Zaragosa and Manresa Cave, please click on the link below:

Pics of Zaragosa Set 1

Pics of Zaragosa Set 2

Pics of Zaragosa Set 3

Pics of Zaragosa Set 4

Photos: Pamplona and Xavier Castle

To see photos of Pamplona and Xavier Castle, please click on the link below:

Pics of Pamplona Set 1

Pics of Pamplona Set 2

Pics of Pamplona Set 3

Pics of Pamplona Set 4

Pamplona and Xavier Castle

We said goodbye to our four days in Loyola. We were told the Provincial of Catalan is marketing the Camino de Ignacio as a different devotion to the Camino de Compostela.

The bus is really very comfortable and Jose, the bus driver, is very cautious. He whizzes through small side streets with ease. We did have to stop for a bathroom break. All the pilgrims seem to gravitate to the gift shops and everyone picked up some sweets and biscuits. We all assembled onto the bus and took off toward nearby Pamplona before we realized Marge did not get on the bus. We turned around to collect her. She was embarrassed. She was right near the bus when it took off without her. She thought we were playing a joke but twenty minutes later when the bus did not come back for her, she was getting worried. She was very calm and pleasant about her experience. We laughed.

The bus ride was very comfortable, but our tour guide thought it was necessary for her to tell us everything she knows about the area. We could have used a respite and tried to tell her that, but subtleties don’t carry well across cultures.

We arrived in Pamplona, the site of the running of the bulls. We had Mass at the Redemptorist church right next to the spot where Ignatius was wounded. I spent a great deal of time in the perpetual adoration chapel where I offered my woundedness to Ignatius’s wounds. I asked him to intercede for me. More on this later because it was my most significant moment on the trip.

We went to the Plaza Major for lunch. It was a great time. Conversations are deepening and bonds of affection are increasing. The Plaza is the main gathering spot for the townspeople. I wish we had lunch during the siesta time. We spent a leisurely lunch in the Plaza and then when we went to shop and tour, the shops were closing down for siesta.

We then boarded the bus for Xavier Castle, an hour’s drive away. It was exciting to tour the castle and the basilica. The old Xavier cemetery and the sister’s hermitage were moving. The nuns were praying the rosary in old creaky voices.

The castle had a great diorama of Xavier’s life. It contained copies of major art pieces as well. The crucifix of the smiling Jesus was a huge attraction for us pilgrims. We ended up taking many photographs of each other because we felt rather free from our schedule.

Dinner was a highlight. We had libations, cheese, peanuts, and Xavier chocolate before dinner. The hotel is very old with old, but reliable fixtures. We felt like we returned in time to a place of civility and relationships. We loved the dinner of swordfish and white asparagus. Dinner lasted so long because we are really enjoying each other’s company.

Tomorrow, we are off to Manresa.

Arantzazu and Olatz

A day of rain but it doesn’t bother us because we had three great days of sunshine in a very rainy climate. The rain helped us to stay close to home and rest, but we still managed to get out a fair bit. In the afternoon, I walked into Azpeitia to get some cheese, port, and single-malt scotch for the pilgrims.

We began the day by going to Our Lady of Arantzazu, high up in the mountains north of Loyola. Ignatius went there to pray and to offer himself to Our Lady. The place became a pilgrim site when a young shepherd boy discovered an apparition of Our Lady in a Hawthorne Tree. Aranzatzu is a phrase that asks, “Is that really you?” The boy asked Our Lady that when he saw the vision; she confirmed it. Pilgrims have sought out the place for her intercession.

Ignatius had to see the site as well and spent a good deal of time there to ask for her help. The area is mountainous and it would have been an arduous journey for Ignatius with his limp. It is possible that he approached the shrine on a mule. Even that would have taken a several day journey.

The architecture and artwork inside the shrine is quite striking. It is modern architecture that stuns a pilgrim because one expects the usual pious images. The vivid colors and jarring images show the brutality of the crucifixion, the social justice efforts of a global society, the sweeping hope of the resurrection – all set amid the steel, iron, and marble that was dug out of the mountainsides.

After an afternoon walk, I set out for Our Lady of Olatz nearby to Loyola. It is said that Ignatius would often turn his eyes towards Olatz to be in her memory. Olatz is a hermitage and monastery less than a kilometer from the basilica.

As I journeyed on foot to the shrine, I arrive a few minutes early. I had a chance to converse with a Basque who would often slip between Spanish and Basque language. He chatted with me by using his hands and we communicated for a whole 15 minutes. He spent time in Detroit and Chicago earlier this millennium. He told me of the effect the European Economic Union had on Spain – mostly positive, but the U.S. dollar didn’t fare so well. He was delighted to tell me about the nearby buildings.

We had Mass at Olatz and then we had dinner back at the Hotel Arrupe. Afterwards, I gave a slideshow of the photos I had taken to date.

Tomorrow onto Pamplona.

Photos of Loyola and Azpeitzia

To see photos of Loyola and Azpeitzia, please click on the link below:

Pics of Loyola Set 3

Pics of Loyola Set 4

Pics of Loyola Set 5

A Day in Azpeitzia

This morning, we pilgrims journeyed to the Magdalene Church that was built in the Fourteenth Century. Facing the church, on the other side of the road, is the Magdalene hospital, where Ignatius lived when he returned from studies at the University of Paris in 1535. The outer part of the building remains – just as it was when it was founded.

Ignatius arrived here in April of 1535 and stayed for three months. He spent his time catechizing the youth and providing spiritual direction in the hospital and church. He also begged for alms so he could continue his ministry. The window to the room Ignatius stayed is still visible, though it had been boarded up.

We had Mass at the hermitage. To my right, as the presider, was an image of the body of Ignatius as he lay on a sofa while his leg recovered from his Pamplona injury.

The town of Azpeitzia was founded in 1310. The Monastery Real de San Sebastian de Soreasu was donated to the town by King Fernando IV through the town charter. The gothic-styled monastery church stood next to a massive toward, possibly a Templar fortress. A statue of San Sebastian pierced with arrows highlights the ornamental Baroque altar-piece that contains many saints.

A side altar is dedicated to Ignatius in 1743. The Chapel of Solitude is done in a classic Renaissance style and has much ornamentation to it. A large dome in the center of the church is copied after the Pantheon in Rome. It is supported by four pendentives, adorned with relief figures of the four evangelists in sandstone.

The church was the family church of the Loyolas and was attended by the many rich families of Azpeitzia. The baptistery was built in 1701 but contains the font where Ignatius of Loyola was baptized.

After touring the central marketplace of Azpeitzia, I walked back to Loyola with my friend, Joe. We made it in time for a full lunch – the central meal of the day. Afterwards, I caught up on some emails and then began a trek up the mountain behind the basilica and castle.

Sheep roam the hillsides and some donkeys can be found as well. At the top of the foothills is a prayer space that overlooks the basilica. The road up to it is winding and grass-covered. It is quite quiet. I imagined that Ignatius played there as a boy with his boyhood friends and siblings. After his call, I imagine that he marveled at the works of God as he sat in silence. It is easy to let my imagination soar towards the heavens; I imagine Ignatius did exactly that. The beauty and magnificence of God is all around.

From there I strolled the gardens in back of the basilica. A modern statue of Ignatius as a beggar to Our Lady of Arantzazu provided a striking contrast to the castle and shrine. The wide-open grounds reveal the changes of the autumn foliage. It makes it very peaceful and serene. Early on, Ignatius must have had the capacity for reflection and solitude.

After my stroll, I caught up with some friends and we, as a whole group, had dinner at the hotel. The pilgrims are most impressive. They have led exciting lives and had done some enormously important work. I admire what they have been able to do and the family systems that made them successful.

Afterwards, we shared photographs and retired.

A Full Day in Loyola at the Basilica

After a nine-hour sleep, I awoke to a dark sky at 6:00 a.m. In fact, the sun did not rise until 7:45 a.m. Birds began to chirp around 7:00 and rooster crowed around 7:30. The day’s activities start late around here.


Breakfast was great. I had coconut yogurt on my granola. I love coconut. A breakfast bread with jam, fresh fruit, including kiwi, juices, pound cake, and croissants were the other components of my breakfast. Mmm. It was a good way to start the day. 


The Hotel Arrupe has its own kiwi garden in the back lawn. We started with morning prayer and then began the tour of the basilica and castle. Actually, I was interested in taking pictures so I did not get to pay too much attention to the soft-spoken tour guide. Mostly, the museum has buttons that can start an audio show in each room of the museum so many of us thought we would come back later to get an informative earful. 


The basilica fronts the Loyola castle. The castle shows the rooms where Inigo de Loyola was born in 1491 and the site of his conversion that occurred during his convalescence from his wounding at the Pamplona battle against the French. Ignatius returned defeated to Loyola where he lost his status and livelihood. 


 The room next to his conversion contained the books he read during his recovery. I found that fascinating. “The Life of Christ” and “The Lives of the Saints” were two of the books at his disposal. One of our fellow pilgrims remarked that she gazed upon the ceiling because Inigo must have spent much time looking heavenward during his period of daydreaming and wondering. 


 I enjoyed imagining what Ignatius was like pre-conversion. I wondered if I would have liked him. As a wealthy man, he probably wouldn’t have bothered with me unless I was to buy him a beer or whisky. Azpeitzia is fairly small so he was well-known throughout the town. 


 The castle and basilica were constructed with the materials from the nearby mountains. That is certainly sensible. Multi-colored marble makes the place lively with its architectural design. Sturdy wooden timbers are taken from the nearby hardwood forests. 


 We celebrated Eucharistic liturgy in the chapel of his conversion. The chapel was redone in 1985 when it was simplified. It formerly contained over 200 relics of Jesuits saints and heroes, but it was whittled down so the focus was on Ignatius’ call by Christ to be a disciple. 


 After lunch, we had a leisurely afternoon until we gathered late afternoon for a meet and greet of other pilgrims in our group. We spoke of graces that we received thus far during the time together. 


The evening was free, but with dinner at 7:30 p.m., one cannot do too much afterwards. Several of us strolled along the river near the castle after dinner. Tomorrow, we head to Azpeitzia, a five minute drive from the Basilica. We get to see the city where the young Inigo was raised and formed.

Photos: Bilbao

To see photos of my trip to Spain, please click on the link below:

Pics of Bilbao Set 1

Pics of Bilbao Set 2

Pics of Loyola Set 1

Pics of Loyola Set 2

Arrival in Spain

Our pilgrimage to the Ignatian sites to Spain began with a two-hour travel delay as the plane arriving from Air France was scheduled to be late. No one minded. We had additional delays getting to Bilbao because the group was split into two as the planes going into Bilbao were much smaller. What to do? Have a croissant in Paris. Not a bad way to begin a trip.

 Bilbao has 600,000 residents in the central city. Including the suburbs, the population exceeds one million people. It has an industrial background. Most of the architecture, including the Guggenheim, incorporates metals from the area to celebrate its past.


Bilbao lies on the northern seacoast of Spain touching the Atlantic Ocean. It is a mountainous area as the Pyrenees extend into the Basque region. While we were welcomed with bright sunshine and a cloudless day, the area is known for its rain. The area’s vegetation is lush and the place is picturesque as the mountains provide a frame for the city’s increasing modernization. It is nestled between the Asturias region to the west and the dray Aragon region to its east.


Spain entered the EEU in 1985 and benefited greatly from the economic infusion. Bilbao recently had a reputation for being an industrial city tarnished by its waste. It is not a modern, thriving city that reveals its edginess.


We arrived in the city on a Sunday afternoon. Most residents of the city will return home after lunch to be with family and friends. They enjoy a relaxed afternoon, but many can be seen going out for dinner again before the workweek begins anew. The shops are closed on Sundays so many people engage in simple leisure activities. As we arrived at the Guggenheim Museum, a weekend-long festival was ending, and many people lulled around the area and enjoyed a stroll along the promenade along the riverfront.


Bilbao’s mascot is the Cat. Directly in front of the Guggenheim Museum is a massive (50-foot?) steel and flower cat statue.


From the museum to the city’s southern side is the Father Arrupe bridge that leads to the Jesuit college of San Sebastian.


We arrived late to the Guggenheim so I spent the little time we had outside the museum to take a few photographs. The inside seemed to have architectural display, which was interesting, but the real story of the museum is its iconic outdoor structure. It was made to represent the industrial past while shaping a future that is formidable and bold.


In the center of the city is a large statue of the Sagrado Corazon (Sacred Heart Statue). Catholicism has been a major trait in forming the Spanish people over the millennia.


From Bilbao, we travelled through Izquieda down to Azpetzia, where Ignatius was born. We met our tour guides: Jose, the bus-driver, and Teresa, the tour guide. We began the tour on Teresa’s feast day, Teresa of Avila (south of Madrid.)


The Basque language that is spoken in the area has survived for 2,000 years. It endured and was largely untouched by the Roman occupation of the Iberian Peninsula. The Romans settled into the lower regions while the Basques remained high in the mountains. The two cultures seldom touched. The Romans opened roads for commerce and military exploits. The Basque language has a cousin that is found far away – in the southern part of Russia. The language is now taught in the region’s school systems.


In Azpetzia, we arrived at the Hotel Arrupe where we unpacked for our four-night stay, had Mass, and enjoyed a leisurely dinner. Most of us were in bed by 9:30 p.m., which means I could not stay up to watch the internet version of the Patriots win over the Dallas Cowboys.


However, I did venture out into the Loyola Basilica to listen to an organ recital by Mario Ciferri. It was the Twelfth International Romantic Organ Series concert. He played Liszt’s Orpheus, Brahms “Schmucke dich, o liebe Seele,” Bossi “Stunde der Freude,” Ritter’s “Sonate n. 1 op. 11 d-moll, Karg-Elert’s “Harmonies du soir,” and Tournemire’s “Improvisation sur le “Te Deum.” Most pilgrim’s did not know this was going on. It was a rare treat.

Ignatian Spain

With 26 Ignatian friends, I leave this afternoon for northeast Spain to walk in the footsteps of Ignatius of Loyola. As I am able, I will post photos to this website.

We will fly Air France to Paris, then board another plane to Bilboa, Spain where we will stop and visit the Guggenheim. From there, we will head to Loyola - birthplace of Ignatius. Later on we will visit Xavier Castle, Manresa (site where the Spiritual Exercises were written), Monserrat (where Ignatius made his general confession), and Barcelona.

Vaya con Dios!

To see photos of fall in New England, please click on the link below:

Pics of fall in New England

October morning

Breathe in. Slowly and deeply – with a long sustained breath. Hold it. Breathe out slowly and completely. I have often uttered these words in a retreat center to help center a person as he or she begins prayer. O.K. Now repeat it. Breathe in slowly and deeply. Don’t rush it. Take a long deep sustained breath. And now release it at the same measured rate. Just breathe. One more time. Breathe in slowly and deeply. Hold it! Breathe out slowly and completely.

 

This morning the Spirit of Christ seems to be asking me to engage in this pre-prayer exercise. It is as if Christ is saying, “Everything you taught retreatants, it is now your time to practice for yourself. Let me take care of you today.”

I sit in an Adirondack chair outside the retreat house, mere feet from the oceans. The sun is strong with a few high wispy clouds that would dare not block the sun. The temperature is already 82 degreed Fahrenheit with an almost-still sea breeze that brings with it faint trace of salt. I wonder where the retreatants are. As I look around, I notice a retreat director in another far off chair napping, but retreatants cannot be found. I feel presumptuous to take one of these choice seats, but all the chairs remain empty. I let myself indulge in this rare pleasure. I always forego these simple pleasures so that retreatants can have the best views of the ocean. Their absence reminds me that the invitation today is for me to sit and enjoy. I won’t even worry about the sun on my neck’s nape because I probably won’t burn.

 

Near to me are tall sea grasses that are like dried reeds. They sing a rhythm worth hearing. They clank against one another to make their chime-like noises. I’ll listen because they want to play for me. A white butterfly sits on the goldenrod, but doesn’t seem satisfied for too long. She jumps from one to another and I wonder if she is feasting and cannot get enough of the fruits. Ah, a second one just came along and they flew off in a spiral together. Their pleasure is being with one another for the moment. Behind the goldenrod are tall beach grasses that have lost their green lushness and have become strikingly white. They sway as they provide a contrast to the bright yellows in the foreground. Nearby are delicate yellow flowers with small petals. Three yellow butterflies are flittering away their morning by sucking up the juices of the pollen.

I feel good. I feel as if times is standing still for me to exist in a temporal eternity. I feel good.

       

A number of ships are in the harbor. A small yacht has docked in Brace’s Cove and the sailors are napping sans shirts. They don’t want to go anywhere. Why would they, after all? These days are made for soaking in the day’s magnificence. Three swans approach the boat. They were once timid around people but now see them as a source for their food. The sailor get up and grab their cameras because the birds are so close to them. I cover my neck for the sun is warm.

Single-mast sailboats dot the far horizon. They move slowly and with great grace. If I didn’t feel invited to stay where I am, I’m sure I would be walking out toBrace Rock that is accessible in low tide. It is monolithic and it looks pristine because of the recent rains. One day soon, but not today, I say. I will come, but today, I just want to look at you. The small tide-pools are still. They look warm in the late-autumn sun, but I’m not to do anything today except to behold the beauty around me. A yellow butterfly lands on the armchair and I notice the delicate detailed wing-lines. Hardly a sound is made around me, except that of nature’s movements. I am reminded to breathe.

 

A neighbor’s dog makes a solitary bark and tiny swallows chirp as if they are now awakened in springtime. A bumble-bee’s buzz provides a bass chant. I find my eyelids growing heavy as if I’m going to nap. I breathe.

Soon it is time to rest. Today seems like a respite from the year-long preparation for winter. We are given a delight to enjoy on this Sabbath so we can carry on in the days ahead. The flower beds are begging to be turned in so they can get their rest. As they slumber, other autumn plants poke their heads out to say,“Hey, I’ve been here all along, but you never noticed me. It’s my time now. Look at me. I’m brilliant.” They are so right. Even as the seasons change, life merely is expressed in alternate ways. Just as I say that, a religious sister walks by to pick up a stick. She has to try three times to get it. I don’t get up to help her – because she hasn’t asked for my help, but she perseveres and uses that discarded piece of wood as her walking stick. She smiles and is on her way. Life will do what it needs to survive. Life always wins out.

This is the type of day I would typically want to be working in the gardens or clearing the bush, but that must wait. After a nine-month effort, the gardens and lawns are beginning to speak for themselves. The land is saying “Thank you. You have freed me and I can breathe again. I want my splendor to shine forth. Today, I gaze upon to delight in them. As I walk through the property, yes, more can be done, but in its due time. It is time for me to look at my work alongside of Christ so I can see what he sees and hear what he is saying about the results. I think he wants to delight in their glory.

 

I heard a homily today that talked about the afterlife. The priest said, “Don’t pay much attention to this life for it is not good. The next life will be better.”This life is all we have. We don’t know anything about the next life except that Christ promises us eternal life with God. We had better live this life as fully as we can. We are given all of this to enjoy – even though we have lots of suffering.

I read a quick story about the difference between heaven and hell and I am changing the content of the tale a bit. Hell is like a rich banquet with lots of tasty meats, fresh vegetables, and sticky desserts. It is meant for us to eat like an Italian abbondanza. However, our hunger is too great and our arms are outstretched in front of us and though we can grasp all the food we want, our arms are locked and we can’t bring it to our mouths. Heaven is different. Actually, it looks the same. We are all seated at a large table in a massive banquet hall. The same food exists. God wants us to indulge as lavishly as we can in God’s generosity. The difference is that when we reach for the food, we give it to one another to eat. We are all satisfied.

 

I try to remember this because when I go through periods of self-scrutiny, I am reminded that the way out of my doldrums is to care for others. This keeps me open to their needs and somehow someone pays attention to my needs. I have to always go against my natural inclinations, which is to withdraw into myself, in order to achieve happiness and contentment. I make myself open to others’ care when I first care for others. How paradoxical.

 

I am letting God behold me. I have to imagine God is sitting forward and looking intently at me and saying, “Wow! I created you. I shaped you. I laughed with you and cried with you. I find nothing more valuable than spending time with you today. From your first rising in the morning, I look upon your face and notice how beautiful it is. I want to remember your face all day long. Breathe in my spirit because it is life. Spend time with me today because it is my delight.”

 

When God greets me like this, it is easy for me to tell God how I feel. I offer up all my emotions and thoughts and God simply accepts them. I present both my positive and negative feelings because that is who I am. God listens with great solidarity. I feel like my voice is heard – and everyone wants to be heard. I feel like I am seen – and everyone wants to be seen. I feel like I am touched – and everyone wants to have the intimacy of God’s touch – or that of another human being who loves you. All my senses I offer to God and my senses feed my feelings. My feelings feed my thoughts. My thoughts and my heart compels me to act. Who am I striving to become? Today, I merely want to exist as a beloved one of God.

 

But, once I am heard, I ask God,“What are you feeling today? What is going on with you? I want the mutuality of our friendship. Give me the grace to know what is happening with you today. Let me listen. Let me gaze. Let me behold you. I want nothing more.”

 

We rest together. The butterflies still flutter about; the sparrows still chirp, the waves roll up and down against the shore; and the flowers begin to embark upon their long rest. All is good. All is very well. For now, I’m going to sign off and spend time with God mutually beholding one another. I need it. I want it. I want to say to God,“You are awesome, but I know it will only come after God says to me, “You are awesome, and I just want to marvel at you. You take my breath away.”

 

And so I breathe.

Photo: Vermont In October

To see photos of Vermont in early October, please click on the link below:

Pics of Weston Priory, the Vermont Country Store, and the Vermont woods

Weekend at the Priory

Though the weekend was soggy, everything else about it was perfect. I joined a few friends at a house in Weston, Vermont so we may pray at the Priory and spend time hanging out with one another. A little sunshine and more time would have made the time together ideal.

Weston Priory is a congregation of Benedictine Brothers whose ministry is song and social justice. The brothers have produced many CD's over the years - beginning with their musical adaptations since Vatican II. The brothers sing for their worship but many congregants know the tunes well and participate often (and sometimes loudly.) The music is like chant, and while one can harmonize, the beauty is in singing together as in one voice.

The brothers keep the office beginning with 5:30 a.m. prayer, 5:00 p.m. vespers, and 8:00 a.m. compline. Services and Masses are held at other times of the day depending upon the day. The Sunday Masses are packed throughout the year, and especially at this time of year with all the leaf-peepers who are touring the area.

Six of us shared a house (plus a Jesuit who spend a few hours with us) so we could spend time in conversation with one another. Ignatius favored the use of conversation because it means "turning one's heart towards one another" and this is what we did. Two other Jesuits besides me showed up. The conversations were rich and constant - and for an introvert like me, one could always retire to one's bedroom for a nap, some quiet, or uninterrupted reading.

The women were fascinating in their crafts. One was making a floor rug with great ease; another crocheted a baby's blanket; a third made some amazingly complex quilts that she sells for $200.00 each; and a fourth led us in a Halloween and Thanksgiving card-making expedition. It was great fun. We had tons of food. We fought over who would take home the left-overs.

The foliage is a week away from its peak. The fog in the mountains made it mystical and photography-ready. Some of the bridges and dams are torn apart from Hurricane Irene, but the roads are passable. It is apparent there is much work to do to restore it to its intended purpose.

The trip to the original Vermont Country Store was terrific. The smell of bacon being cooked at the entrance to the story entices a person to come in and buy some expensive home cooking or nostalgic goods. Samples of cheese, sausages, dips, and chocolates help people buy unique foods that will delight any home and hearth. It is always great fun to walk through the store and think of good times in the past.

I'll come back for sure.