A Pilgrimage is more fun than a Vacation
The rest of the Story: what you don’t read in the newspapers.
St Francis of Assisi- Patron of Italy
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| The square outside the Basilica with the hills in the background |
Only the Saint of the Poor can make it so that certain things happen. While the two contrasting political sides of the country are at each other’s throat, though I have to admit the left are more expert at this, at the celebration of the 4th of October in honour of the
Patron Saint of Italy,
Saint Francis made it so that at least for that day there was a truce.
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Representatives of the Veneto provinces with their standard bearers
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They were all there: not only the Franciscan authorities, but the Cardinals of the Church and the Political leaders of my Region, the Veneto region since this year it was the turn of the
Veneto people to offer the oil to burn for the whole year on the Saint’s tomb; a tradition kept alive since 1926 when an appeal was made to Italians on the
700 anniversary of St Francis’ death to keep a lamp lit continuously on his tomb. Hence, the Mayor of the main city of Veneto,
Venice, the left wing,
Massimo Cacciari and the President of the Region, the right wing,
Giancarlo Galan, offered the oil. However, I noted it was the Mayor of Venice Cacciari who physically held the urn of oil, which was only a small pot and the rest was probably sent to the to the storeroom beforehand. These two gentlemen were not alone, more than a hundred mayors with their standard bearers from all over the Veneto region and a few thousand
pilgrims, one of which was myself, were there too.
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My group of Pilgrims at the Basilica of Maria degli Angeli
where vespers were held on the eve of 4th-
I'm the one in lime next to the red bag |
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Photo: Mayors of Veneto - The Mayor of Venice,
Massimo Cacciari, is the one with a beard
on extreme left of picture |
The Mass was celebrated in the Upper Basilica where the
star studded ceiling is and only a select few, 10 out of 50 pilgrims, of which I was not one, were accommodated on wooden chairs furnished with red velvet cushions for the occasion. I was rather off put that I had to do with being placed to watch a screen on the lower part of the Basilica while the others up above were having all the fun. However, once over, I would not be moved until they opened up the doors to the
Upper Basilica and let the other common mortals like myself enter to see that star studded ceiling I had dreamed of when in foreign lands. While waiting for the doors to open, which seemed never ending and the risk of returning home without seeing the star studded ceiling was high, my fellow pilgrims practically whipped the camera from my hands and insisted on taking photos of me too, something I seldom allow- personally I suspect it was their revenge for having been so much the centre of my optical attention.
However, there came a point when among the mayors, cardinals, bishops and so on, the tall, grandeur figure of
Giancarlo Galan, the President of the Veneto Region was spotted by some ladies of my company, towering among the rest. As I was clicking away the ladies turned to me and expressed their desire to be photographed with him. All they had to do, I said, was stand close to him and I would take a photo. But as they were somewhat shy, nothing was accomplished. I had to do something about this, surely Saint Francis would not want them to go home feeling disappointed. That’s one thing I had learnt on this day in Assisi,
Saint Francis had a knack of fulfilling, at least for a day, everyone of your desires, no matter how banal- this is the gift Saint Francis makes to anyone who cares to embrace it. So, I just went up to this gigantic figure and said, “These ladies would like a photo with you, do you mind, President Galan?” He gave a broad smile, opened up his arms wide and embraced the two pilgrims. Obviously he didn’t mind and I of course clicked away. Then it was my turn. But I had other things on my mind, and the only one photo taken, is me intent on expatiating something of some kind, while the grooves on the President’s forehead are growing deeper and deeper.
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The President of the Veneto Region Giancarlo Galan
and two fellow pilgrims |
I remember as I began writing this article a friend phoned and said, “You’re not thinking of writing the usual stuff on
Assisi, I hope?”
“Usual stuff?” I asked, apprehensive that having 2 or 3 readers reading my blog, losing one would mean losing more or less 40% of my readership...
“Look,” she interrupted, “the newspapers, for want of anything other to write about, have already plastered their pages with the names of cardinals, mayors and bishops. Haven’t you anything else?”
“I can’t invent things, now can I?”
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| The President of the Veneto Region and I |
“For heaven sake, use your head. I’m interested in the real things, not those which have been polished up by the newspapers...
a blog should be different, should it not? Or do you go on pilgrimages with your eyes and ears shut up?” So I rattled my brain for something different: the lasagne with egg at lunch that didn’t go down at all with the pilgrims, the room-mate whose shoes stank to high heaven as soon as they were taken off, let alone the non-stop snoring. Then of course, you had the inevitable guards that were ready to throw you out if they heard so much as a click from a camera inside any part of the basilica, either upper or lower, which meant no longed-for-scenes of
the star studded ceiling to take home.
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Scenes from Basilica Maria Degli Angeli during Vespers on the
eve of the feast day
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As you came out after Mass, packed together one on top, next or beside another, you heard nothing but “amazing”, “fantastic”, “an unforgettable experience”, and in effect it is exactly so. Even after you have worn out the pavement with your knees, you don’t feel the tiredness, the cramping, you only feel sublime. Even if out in the world, politicians tear each other apart and the banks collapse: here in Assisi, in front of the
tomb of Saint Francis, lit by the oil brought down from the
Venetian pilgrims, a veil of mercy seemed to have fallen over what can otherwise be described as this our wretched humanity, and everything is alright, everything is good, everything has found its keel.
It was right here, packed against each other, that I met
Mark from South Africa and told him I was thinking of what I could write about in Assisi that went against the grain. In effect there was nothing, except, said he, they should try to print a copy of the ceremony in
English too, after all it is an important language.
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| Mark from South Africa |
Be it as it is, the Authorities will never fail to turn up in Assisi with all their pomp and circumstance, even if this may make the Saint want to revolt in his tomb. But I think it should be so because
Saint Francis is perhaps the greatest source of wealth that Italy possesses; not forgetting an awful amount of the world’s artistic treasures are to be found in Italy itself. But the “treasure” of Saint Francis is not tangible, not something you can touch with your hand. The wealth that Saint Francis emanates is something of a different nature,
a richness that perhaps has no name.
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Me waiting for the doors to the star studded ceiling to open
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As I am writing, I can hear such words as “panic”, “crunch”, “losses” and so on to describe the world’s monetary situation. These are descriptions that leave us shocked, bewildered, insecure, even for those like myself who possessing nothing, have little to lose. Then I think of Saint Francis, he would certainly have smiled to himself and breathed a sigh of relief that at last the
world, diminishing its economic resources, would produce less things to throw away and waste. Because people would take care of things more, and even the rags destined for the garbage bin would be put away carefully and used as dishcloths. Maybe if we can think like this, we will do ourselves and the world a favour- all we basically need to ask ourselves next time we have the spending-spree urge is: “Do I really need
twenty pairs of shoes?" Because that's how many I've got in my cupboard, right now.
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| The Town of Assissi |
