st francis of assisi – Timeless Italy Travels

Reflecting on Cimabue and the Mud Angels of 1966 Florence

November 18, 2016August 30, 2017timelessitaly

He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.”
― St. Francis of Assisi

Cimabue's damaged Crucifix — **Cimabue’s damaged Crucifix**

The flood of 1966 in Florence devastated millions of art masterpieces and rare books. The Franciscan Basilica of Santa Croce was one of many buildings left in terrible conditions. Swirling river bottom mud settled inside the church, causing heavy damage to valuable works of art. It took a long time and a lot of effort to remove all of the debris. Because of its geographical location, Florence often flooded, always leaving behind a muddy mess.

Volunteers from around the globe came to clean the city of refuse, mud, and oil. They removed works of art, books and other valuables from flooded rooms. Conservators worked tirelessly to restore these pieces to as close to their original condition as possible. These volunteers became known as Angeli del fango–angels of the mud.

On my first visit to the Basilica of Santa Croce, I passed Cimabue’s Crucifix, painted in 1272. It was heart wrenching to see the degree of water damage that had altered the painting. 60% of its paint was missing. Housed in the refectory of the Museo dell’Opera di Santa Croce, the flood waters had risen to twenty feet, taking most of the paint off of the over 700-year-old Christ figure.

The wooden crucifix absorbed so much water that it expanded by three inches and doubled its weight. It took years for the cross to shrink back down to its original size. I could see spots with sections missing. The wood had cracked, it grew mold, and paint began to flake off even after it was removed from the refectory. Later on, the cracks were filled in with prepared Poplar from the Casentino Forest, where Cimabue obtained the original Poplar. Little restoration which can be seen with the eye has been applied to the Crucifix, and it still bears the effects of water damage.

cimabue-best — Cimabue’s Crucifix before the flood (photo credit Wikipedia)

santa-croce

“What we were doing was dictated by the desire to give back the traces of the history of the past to future generations, so that it could be used for the spiritual growth of people who perhaps had yet to be born….it was the international community that worked to try to save Florence, this unique patrimony that belonged to the whole world.”

Mario Primicerio, Speciale Alluvione

santa-croce-3 — Majestic Basilica of Santa Croce -photo credit Wikipedia

As I continued my walk through the church, I felt a deep respect and appreciation for the many old works of art. They were all beautiful and rich with color, painted by famous art masters of the late medieval and early renaissance. I was touched by how an international community of caring people pitched in together to help in a time of crisis, to save a heritage that is precious to everyone. It can be said that Cimabue’s Crucifix is a part of us all.

Naple’s Secret Below the Chaos

October 12, 2013January 28, 2014cnels2

Working my way down the vibrant street markets of Napoli just recently was mind-boggling. Scooters roared and car horns impatiently pierced the air. Throngs of people clogged the medieval arteries of the city, pressed in to look over and purchase their products from busy shopkeepers. Store windows behind them displayed rows of hanging tripe, lamb, and prosciutto, as well as mouth-watering bakery items and slices of pizza for a euro.

In a crowded intersection where two streets meet is Piazza San Gaetano. It was here that I found something I least expected in the heart of this bazaar world. Standing in front of me towered an old basilica. San Lorenzo Maggiore was a sight to behold.

This handsome thirteenth century Gothic church was built on top of a previously existing city hall by the Franciscan order in Naples during the lifetime of its founder, St. Francis of Assisi. Evidentially, Charles I of Anjou decided to build his fortress, Maschio Angioino, where the Franciscans had an existing church. Charles compensated them by providing this site for the present church of San Lorenzo Maggiore.

What is surprising and not noticeable until you enter the building is that it is also a monastery as well as a museum. The museum takes up three floors and gives a history of the area around San Lorenzo beginning with classical archaeology.

But the most astonishing part of all are the remains of an original Greco-Roman market that was excavated over a period of 25 years and has been opened to the public since 1992. Located in the middle of the historical center that began as the Greek-Roman city of Neapolis (new city), this market is one of only a couple of large-scale Greek-Roman sites excavated in the downtown area. For those of you who love ancient Rome, you won’t want to miss this.

Very close by is the Napoli Sottoterranea, the Napoli underground which is seen only by tours, but this is not part of San Lorenzo’s underground.

The following photos were taken while I explored the area. It truly is a rare experience of stepping back in time, from the old earthy smell to the uneven stone streets and arches. However, it requires patience and some imagination to figure out just what you are looking at. There are no tour guides or audio guides, and most of the information is posted in Italian. What was labeled or partially described I have identified below the photos.

Once an outdoor street lining the doorway to small shops. This is the original street level of the ancient city of Neapolis.

Both a Greek (Agora) and Roman (Macellum) marketplace are the main discoveries that lay below the church. Dating from the sixth to the first century B.C., these streets are perfectly preserved underneath present-day bustling Napoli. Built into layers of volcanic ash and rock called tufa, these ruins are remarkably well-preserved.

Stairway leading up from the road and old arches with shops between them. — **This covered space was a market area, and shows seven interconnected rooms, with barrel vaults pierced by skylights to draw in air and sunlight.**

Small shops, called tabernae, line the roads and each one has a skylight of sorts. They would be dank, dark and creepy without them.

In these shops it is possible to notice selling counters and wall-niches for the storage and display of various articles. Fascinating….

This a laundrette where clothes were scrubbed clean. — **This is a laundrette where clothes were scrubbed clean.**

**A ‘tintoria’ was a shop to dye fabric**

**Possibly a well of sorts….I just know it is very deep!**

**One of many small shops with tables and storage underneath, that lined the ancient streets. Notice the ‘skylight.’**

**A ‘fornaio’ was a bakery. Imagine all the business they must have had!**

Once you are ready to return to the surface, a stairwell leads you up to a courtyard, which is the 14th-century cloister of the church of San Lorenzo Maggiore. Outside the cloister and back into the streets of Naples, it seems inconceivable that below all the surrounding congestion and frenetic activity lay a still, silent world that once was a bustling marketplace of its own.

A Saint and a Pope–Humility Then and Now

April 27, 2013April 27, 2013timelessitaly

“Start by doing what is necessary, then what is possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” St. Francis of Assisi

The new Pope Francis is giving the Vatican police and Swiss Guards a headache. He won’t ride in the Popemobile, but insists on riding around in an open-air white Mercedes jeep that he gets out of to intermingle with the crowds. He insists on walking when his security want him to go by car. On Holy Thursday he washed the feet of inmates at a detention center outside Rome instead of cleaning priests feet, or even delegating the washing. He won’t move into the papal chambers but lives in his own small apartment. Pope Francis is very determined to stay humble and makes no bones about it. It appears to be the beginning of a new wave of Pope.

When 76 year old Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio selected the name Francis I as new Pope, it was a first for the church to honor St. Francis of Assisi. So who was this famous saint, chosen as the patron saint of Italy?

Born in Umbria to a wealthy cloth merchant in 1182, Francis lived a lavish lifestyle. He was constantly surrounded by many friends and always made himself the life of the party. Wanting to be a knight and accomplish outstanding deeds, he joined with Assisi and fought against neighboring Perugia.

When Francis left on the Fourth Crusade, he had an encounter with God that turned him back toward home. From that point on he devoted himself to the church. While at San Damiano, a small church close to Assisi, Jesus spoke to Francis through the cross above the altar to “go and repair my church.”

Upon hearing God, Francis renounced all his possessions, began preaching and built a following that became the Franciscan Order. He did rebuild San Damiano, but understood later that God had meant for him to rebuild His church body of believers.

Francis of Assisi embraced poverty, living with the poor and the lowest. He ministered to lepers and personally cleansed their wounds. He loved God and all His creation.

Why did the new Pope pick Francis for his name? Cardinals, as in the Bible, choose a name when they get a new job from God. They need a name that will support them and inspire them to accomplish the task God has for them to do.

“Right away, with regard to the poor, I thought of St. Francis of Assisi, then I thought of war. Francis loved peace and that is how the name came to me,” replied Pope Francis to the press. He spoke of St. Francis as a poor and humble man, concerned with the natural environment.

Pope kissing feet — **Pope Francis kissing the feet of a sick child**

Pope Francis has already shown indications that he is much humbler than previous Popes of the church. In Argentina, he lived in a small apartment and cooked his own meals. He has shown no intention of moving out of his modest two room apartment at the Vatican hotel, the Casa Santa Marta, and into the elegant 12-plus-room papal apartment on the top floor of the Apostolic Palace. He will use the papal apartment as his work space, to receive official guests and handle papal business. But he will return to his humble dwellings each night, eating in the communal dining room, and celebrating mass in the hotel chapel with Vatican groundskeepers, domestic staff, and other low-level workers. Francis keeps no personal aides.

Pope Francis and Baby — **Pope Francis Kisses a Baby**

So what do the Pope and the Saint have in common? I see the shadow of St. Francis on the Pope. Humble, simple, compassionate, companion to the lowly, eats with sinners, servant to others, concerned with the natural environment. Strong parallels exist between the two. This world desperately needs a St. Francis. Is it too much to hope that our new Pope just might be an answer to that prayer?

Pope Francis Kissing Feet — **Pope Francis**

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Axel Munthe: Capri’s Remarkable ‘Saint’

February 2, 2013November 17, 2013cnels2

Fly on, fly on…..strait to my own far country in the north where you will be safe from man.” Axel Munthe

They came to Capri by the thousands: wood pigeons, thrushes, turtle-doves, waders, quails, golden orioles, skylarks, nightingales, swallows and redbreasts. They came every spring to rest upon the cliffs, high up Monte Barbarossa above San Michele, as they migrated to the northern lands. Little did they know that deadly nets awaited them, spread out by the men of the island. They would be caught and sold to Parisian restaurants or blinded to be used as decoys, their singing attracting other birds to the nets. Capri appeared to them as a resting oasis but in reality became a living hell.

Born of an age-old tradition inspired by a primitive culture, one man challenged everything.

“The wild cruel beast is not behind the bars of the cage. He is in front of it.” Axel Munthe

Axel Munthe, tormented by this massive bird slaughter, appealed to the higher powers to ban this merciless act. When he was refused, he trained his dogs to bark at night. He fired a cannon. He did all within his power to end this cruelty until, years later, he bought Monte Barbarossa from the ex-butcher who for years had blinded some of the captured birds. He turned it into a bird sanctuary. Fully realizing that many of the islands poor made their living from the bird hunt, he entitled them to the sanctuary’s proceeds.

What kind of man would go to such lengths to transform a way of life? Who would risk all that he had, all that he was? A reputation he had worked hard to earn? A man who battled death relentlessly, fighting hard for the living? A soul full of love and mercy? A dreamer of light and life and beauty?

A Swedish physician, born in 1857, Axel was all of these. A humanist, writer, philanthropist, and lover of animals, he knew the depths of despair as a Red Cross relief worker in the Naples cholera epidemic of 1884. He witnessed the never-ending triumph of death. Accompanied by a donkey named Rosina and his dog Puck, he made his daily rounds through the squalor and sickness.

“No doubt help has come from every part of the country, from every part of the world, but even here, as is so often the case, it is the poor who have exercised the greatest charity, the silent self-sacrificing devotion has come from those who have next to nothing themselves.”

Undaunted, however, throughout his life he continued to travel and supply medical aid to the needy while also supporting soup kitchens, orphanages and children’s clinics. Axel truly lived his calling as a physician. And yet his spirit remained free to inspire, to create, to invite others to dare to dream.

But how was he able to provide free healthcare to the poor? What enabled him to build San Michele, to purchase Monte Barbarossa and his other properties on Capri?

He attended the rich to minister to the poor. His practice in Rome was geared toward the wealthy, the foreign dignitaries in residence, including the royal Swedish family. He soon earned the lofty entitlement as Queen Victoria’s personal physician, which he kept until her death.

Ah, the animal lover….Imagine a home with eight dogs, turtles, a mongoose, a Siamese cat, a little owl, and a monkey named Billy. These were his delight at San Michele. Billy, however, never ceased to exasperate him. A right roguish lad, he fought with the Fox Terrier, kidnapped the Siamese kitten, and ate the turtle’s eggs!

“I built it (San Michele) on my knees, like a temple to the Sun, where I would seek knowledge and light from the radiant God whom I had worshipped all my life.”

Passing through San Michele, I couldn’t help but feel inspired by the light and shades of color that so attracted Axel. He believed that the soul needed more space than the body, a longing for beauty, which he imaginatively expressed through San Michele. Light and airy, boundless and free, a brilliant refuge from the darkness, created to inspire dreams, visions, playful pretense, to create, and to heal. Yet sadly, the very thing he desired most in life became impossible to bear. His eyes were weak, and intensive sunlight on Capri became too much to tolerate. He wore dark glasses, but eventually was forced to flee to the west side of the island. There he lived in his shadier medieval fortress Torre di Materita.

Torrre di Materita — *Torre di Materita*

In the final chapter of his book, “The Story of San Michele,” published in 1929, he describes a scene where he is in heaven standing before the judgement seat. Already angry with him for his earthly conduct, he is rebuked by the Old Testament forefathers for bringing his old faithful dog, who waits for him at heaven’s door. Suddenly birds flutter around him and bring him help in the form of St. Francis of Assisi. The slight Umbrian saint, surrounded by a flock of birds and his following of beggars and outcasts, comes up beside him. His very presence calms the multitude. Axel rests his head on the frail saint’s shoulder, passing into eternity.