Ho hum - nearly work time again

I wanted to do a final post before setting off back for Sassuolo, but it might be a bit bitty, as I've been, well, just relaxing, and Monica's not really up for the beach at the minute. To the left is our baby, but more on that later. I'm due back at work on Thursday and we have a gynaecologist appointment on Tuesday, so the plan is to head back on Monday on the train.

What I've been mostly up to is working through Learn New Testament Greek by John H Dobson. A bit before I met Monica I was thinking that it was a shame I'd lost my German, because I was pretty good at that and I like language, and maybe it would be a good idea to try and have another go. I didn't want to learn a language that I didn't actually have a use for, or that I couldn't practise without making a particular effort. I spotted the above book in SPCK ("Is Christian Knowledge different to the usual kind?", I recall Norris asking once) and got about a third of the way through it before losing momentum. I tried again later and got a little further through. Then I met my Italian wife-to-be and learning Greek was understandably displaced with learning Italian.

Fast forward several years and I feel confident enough with my Italian to get going on Greek again. I also figure that it's now or never (or at least significantly later), since becoming a father leaves little time for learning Greek. Armed with splendidly helpful and free MemoryLifter and generous 3 week holiday, I've been getting on pretty well and enjoying myself. When you get on to about a third of the way through, you start reading from the New Testament itself (you need a copy) and the course is specifically designed to help you get to grips with the basics so you can feel like you're making rapid progress. I'd highly recommend it.

Back to the baby. We had the morfologica on Wednesday, which is when they take a load of scans of the baby and take loads of measurements too, to find out if everything is going okay. It is, in short. Monica was worrying beforehand. She does worry. It's all very exciting anyway. There was a TV-sized screen in front of Monica so we could see everything, and it all looked very swish. It was somewhat like being on the bridge of the starship enterprise. Plus, it highlights various flows in real-time with colour-coding, which makes it look as though a series of atomic explosions is going on inside one's wife, or perhaps that the photon torpedoes are ready to be launched. And then, when you've got used to the idea of seeing inside your baby's brain (they should do one for wives) and heart (textbook - the doctor kept on going back to look at it and opining that it was perfect) - Bam! 4D view of baby! Even if for some reason the colour they decided to use was that of earwax. We got a DVD with two short clips of that.

Other than that, not a lot going on. Been going for coffee at the new bar pretty regularly with Carlo. Went again on Thursday for an ice cream with Giovanna but the place was packed and noisy and I didn't feel like queueing. Working through the games section in Il Messaggero. On holiday, basically. Nearly over though, and probably back to (lack of) service as usual.

In the beginning was the Word

Image via WikipediaI'm not a theologian. Nor have I studied linguistics. On the other hand, I'm a lifelong Christian become Catholic with a BA in English Literature who works in translation. Both these areas interest me.
Occasionally the following pops into my head, and I thought I'd blog it: isn't it funny that human language doesn't seem particularly aligned to Christology, given the centrality of Christ to Christianity (natch) and the big deal that is made of Jesus the Word of God:

In the beginning was the Word:
the Word was with God
and the Word was God.
He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things came into being,
Not one thing came into being except through him.
[...]
He was in the world that had come into being through him,
and the world did not recognise him.
He came to his own
and his own people did not accept him.
[...]
The Word became flesh,
he lived among us,
and we saw his glory,
the glory that he has from the Father as only Son of the Father,
full of grace and truth.

John 1:1-3,10-11,14

God said 'Let there be light,' and there was light.
[...]
God said 'Let us make man in our own image, in the likeness of ourselves, and let them be masters of the fish of the sea, the birds of heaven, the cattle, all the wild animals and all the creatures that creep along the ground.'

God created man in the image of himself,
in the image of God he created him,
male and female he created them.

Genesis 1:3,26-27

Man is made in the image of God, through the Word, whose glory is full of truth. All of creation bears the imprint of God, man especially so. Both these passages at least hint at the Holy Trinity (let us make man in our own image, in the likeness of ourselves), which, as has often been pointed out, allows the affermation that "God is love" (1 John 4:8) to make sense; since God is a community of persons even before (causally) the world was created, love can be a part of his nature – the Father loves the Son, and the Son the Father, and so on. And if he is a community, then communication is also part of his nature, part of his unity. The Word even became flesh and dwelt with man.

And yet, from this vision of God and man which suggests that language isn't just something that we do, it's an essential part of who we are we move to the reality of people who can't talk to one another because they don't have a common language. Something fishy would appear to be going on. Back in my first year at university we took a little look at linguistics, or at least at two broad schools of thought in linguistics, structuralism and post-structuralism. I can't remember in great detail what they were about, and what specifically distinguishes them, but I remember discussion of (or perhaps just listening to) how words are related to meaning. In any case, you don't have to be a linguist to appreciate that words seem to be somewhat arbitrary: a dog, for example, is a Hund in German, a chien in French, a cane in Italian, and so on and so forth. What I think marks to the passage from structuralism to post-structuralism is essentially the same thing that marks the passage from modernism to post-modernism: the former, inspired by the enlightenment, attempts to classify and provide a logical internal structure (again, natch) for understanding language, the latter sees how bloody difficult this is and gives up, abandoning examination of the relationships within language for relativism and (proudly?) proclaiming that meaning is in fact a myth.

We've got something of a disconnect on our hands: is language essential, unifying and full of truth or is it arbitrary, unable to unify us and devoid of meaning?

I have to admit that I don't have this clear in my own mind. Both visions seem pretty extreme; I guess that the solution lies somewhere in the middle, as it is prone to do. I certainly don't doubt God's revelation, but it's also very easy to follow the logic of the post-structuralists. Of course, revelation does give us an account of the matter. However, unfortunately it's one of those incidents where God comes out looking like a bit of a cosmic jerk on the face of it:

The whole world spoke the same language, with the same vocabulary. [...] 'Come,' they said, 'let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top reaching heaven. Let us make a name for ourselves, so that we do not get scattered all over the world.'
[...]
'So they are all a single people with a single language!' said the Lord. 'This is only the start of their undertakings! Now nothing they plan to do will be beyond them. Come, let us go down and confuse their language there, so that they cannot understand one another.' [... T]here the Lord confused the language of the whole world and from there the Lord scattered them all over the world.

Genesis 11:1,4,6-7,9

I'd prefer not to get too bogged down in defending God's reputation – perhaps that's a topic for another time – but the passage itself is surely fundamental, given the topic. Note again, that God seems to act as Trinity on this occasion as well. God deliberately limits man's ability to communicate, to stop him doing whatever he wants to do. In fact, perhaps this is obviously for the best after the fall. We all know very well what a mess we've made of the whole world with the percentage of our brain that we do use, just think of the damage we would have done by now if we'd devoted all of our grey matter to it! On the other side of the equation however is Pentecost:

When Pentecost day came round, they had all met together, when suddenly there came from heaven a sound as of a violent wind which filled the entire house in which they were sitting; and there appeared to them tongues of fire; these separated and came to rest on the head of each of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak different languages as the Spirit gave them power to express themselves.

[...]
Then Peter stood up with the Eleven and addressed them in a loud voice:
[... T]his is what the prophet was saying:
In the last days – the Lord declares -
I shall pour out my Spirit on all humanity.
Your sons and daughters shall prophesy,
your young people shall see visions,
your old people dream dreams.

Acts 2:1-4,14,16-17

Here we effectively have the tower of Babel in reverse, as I'm not the first to say. And here we have the Trinity and consequently Christology. As he promised, the Son has sent the Spirit, the Spirit in whom we are adopted sons and can say "Abba, Father!". We are co-heirs with Christ and members of his body, caught up in the life of the Holy Trinity, and in this first Pentecost of the Church, preached by the apostles, God sees fit to restore unity of language as a miraculous sign of the outpouring of his grace.

The post-strucuralists gave us a pretty bleak vision of language, but that's not the only way of looking at it. Disparity of language doesn't seem to actually be a bad thing in itself. I think it's fascinating personally. Looking back at the creation account, we see God's creative action through the Word and we see man made in his image. Human languages are of course the result of creativity. God has made us co-creators in his image, and different communities of people have created their own languages, through which they have communion. As it's very fashionable to say nowadays, especially in response to people who are complaining about declining standards in English, this is also a continuing process, and involves, whether we like it or not, the concise text messages sent among groups of disenfranchised youth. "Word made flesh" might in fact be an apt expression to describe the development of language among mankind. Also, I understand that St. Thomas Aquinas argued that the great variety of life and difference in creation is an expression of the glory of God, praised by all his works in chorus. And though I might sometimes have a little trouble in the supermarket here in Italy, perhaps its more important after all that Gods praises are sounded with a variety of sounds.

That's all I can think to say on the matter. I'm sure it's just the tip of the iceberg. I'd like to know what a proper Christian linguist had to say about it, but I don't remember seeing many books on the subject. It might be a niche interest, but I'm sure someone other than myself must find it interesting.

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Happy Assumption/Ferragosto!

Image via WikipediaFerragosto is a special time of the year, when Italians like to simultaneously queue on motorways. I think I read somewhere that this is a Roman tradition (presumably without the motorways), but the Church decided to celebrate the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary on the same day. I think they may have overestimated common sense levels, because many Italians prefer queuing on the motorway to going to Mass.

Anyway, I thought I'd take this occasion to look at a Marian thingamy. Yesterday (we went to the vigil Mass because it's easier on Monica at the moment) the Church gave us the following first reading:

David assembled all Israel at Jerusalem, to bring up the ark of the Lord to its place, which he had prepared for it. And David gathered together the sons of Aaron and the Levites: And the Levites carried the ark of God upon their shoulders with the poles, as Moses had commanded according to the word of the Lord. David also commanded the chiefs of the Levites to appoint their brethren as the singers who should play loudly on musical instruments, on harps and lyres and cymbals, to raise sounds of joy.

And they brought the ark of God, and set it inside the tent which David had pitched for it; and they offered burnt offerings and peace offerings before God. And when David had finished offering the burnt offerings and the peace offerings, he blessed the people in the name of the Lord. - 1 Chr 15:3-4, 15,16;16:1-2

That may not seem a particularly relevant reading for the Assumption, but it is. Mary has long been considered as the new ark of the (new) covenant. The lost ark bore the Ten Words of the law and manna, the bread from heaven. Mary bore the Word made flesh, the Bread of Life which came down through heaven. What's interesting though, is that the connection isn't only the result of the imagination of the early Church, it's also alluded to by St. Luke and St. John.

Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting since the cloud stayed over it and the glory of the Lord filled the dwelling. - Ex 40:35

Now when the priests came out of the Holy Place, the cloud filled the temple of the Lord, and because of the cloud the priests could not stay and perform their duties. - 1 Kgs 8:10-11

When St. Luke narrates the annunciation, he uses the same Greek word used in the Septuagint to describe how Mary will be overshadowed with the glory of God:

The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. - Lk 1:35

There is a similar series of allusions in the visitation, to 2 Samuel:

David went to Baalah of Judah, from there to bring up the ark of God [...] They transported the ark of God on a new cart and brought it out of Abinadab's house which is on the hill. [...] David and the whole house of Israel danced before the Lord with all their might. [...] That day David felt afraid of the Lord. 'How can the ark of the Lord come to be with me?' he said. So David decided not to take the ark of the Lord with him [but] the ark of the Lord remained in the house of Obed-Edom of Gath for three months, and the Lord blessed Obed-Edom and his whole family. [Bringing the ark up to the city of David,] David danced whirling round before the Lord with all his might. - 2 Sam 6:2-3,5,9-11,14

Mary set out at that time and went as quickly as she could into the hill country to a town in Judah. She went into Zechariah's house and greeted Elizabeth. Now it happened that as soon as Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the child leapt in the womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. She gave a loud cry and said 'Of all women you are the most blessed and blessed is the fruit of your womb. Why should I be honoured with a visit from the mother of my Lord?[' ...] Mary stayed with her some three months and then went home. - Lk 1:39-43,56

As far as St. John is concerned:

Then the sanctuary of God in heaven opened, and the ark of the covenant could be seen inside it. Then came flashes of lightning, peals of thunder and an earthquake and violent hail. Now a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman, robed with the sun, standing on the moon, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant, and in labour, crying aloud in the pangs of childbirth. [...] The woman was delivered of a boy, the son who was to rule all the nations with an iron sceptre, and the child was taken up to God and to his throne[.] - Rev 11:19-12:2,5

One wonders what the ark of the covenant is doing in heaven anyway. I mean, its been lost for centuries despite the best efforts of the nazis, and in the meantime, the very Word of God has come to earth, tabernacled among us and, having ascended to the Father, sent his Holy Spirit to dwell in temples which are situated in the most unlikely of places – in men.

However, there is a new ark in heaven, and St. John seems to associate it with this woman who can be readily identified with Mary, even if we can also see different interpretations. Obviously there's nothing here saying explicitly ark = woman either, but the way the images run together is telling. St. John has already done the same sort of thing when he writes that one of the elders says "Look, the Lion of the tribe of Judah [...] has triumphed, and so he will open the scroll and its seven seals" (Rev 5:5) only to see the seals of the scroll broken by ... a lamb. (Rev 5,6,7,8)

I think it's interesting to see these links because it provides a key to understanding the Marian dogmas, especially her perpetual virginity (as well as the virgin birth) and immaculate conception. It was an appropriate sign of the holiness of Jesus Christ that the womb that bore him bore no other child and that she knew not a man, as it was not permitted for just any man to enter the holy of holies. It was also appropriate that the mother who bore him was free from the stain of sin; the sinless Mother of God was a fit dwelling place for the Son of Man who has conquered sin.

I'd like to recommend Mark Shea's three books "Mary: Mother of the Son" on the subject of all things Marian. Mark was an atheist, then an evangelical, now a Catholic, so he knows how to approach the subject of such a strange-seeming phenomenon as devotion to Mary in a way which is sympathetic to the sceptical.

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Back to Offagna!

Image via Wikipedia

Hey hey!

Well here I am again in Offagna with my beautiful wife again and on my unprecedeted 3 week summer holidays. Life is good.

Wednesday, my last day of work, went about as well as could reasonably be expected. Half an hour before home time, I ran out of work, not a particularly frequent occurrence in itself, and especially handy given that I was planning on getting up at 5:30 to catch the train from Sassuolo. I was playing it rather safe, but better that than risking missing my connection.

Obviously I was knackered, but the journey went very well. My seat was at the end of the carriage at a table with some girls and a woman, and though I had feared a boring, insular journey (3 of the 4 of us had our iPods out to start with) I cunningly managed to strike up a conversation with the one who was reading the book of the film of Robin Hood (with Russell one-face Crowe) in English so we ended up chatting for most of the journey. I like talking to people on trains. I know that in theory, you can end up cornered by a bore, but it's never happened to me.

Offagna's changed a bit. The manky old bus stop that I used to wait in for the coach/bus to my Italian for foreigners lessons has been replaced with a little bar in the centre of a new roundabout. A big improvement. I popped there after dinner with Giancarlo, who approves of the coffee. It's not as if I've become a connisseur or anything (indeed, I'm not even sure how to spell it) but I would tend to agree.

It was a long day, the day I arrived. As I mentioned previously, I got up at 5:30. Once I was starting to settle down in Offagna after the ample meal which always awaits me here (what a thing it is to have Italian in-laws), Monica had rather a shock. She said that she felt her heart stop, and then it began to beat very strongly. She panicked, got to her feet, and then she lost her vision for a moment. Monica, as you may know, can get very anxious, and if that happened to me, I'd be pretty anxious too. We went to the pharmacist's for some advice, who advised us to go to the doctor's. Monica does not hold Offagna's local doctor in high regard, so she probably wouldn't have gone except that the usual doctor was away and there was a locum (is that right?) covering his holidays. Whether or not he's a good doctor, he has an inspirational Mussolini calendar and a little bust of him behind his desk, so I think I'd probably avoid him too. The doctor though it was probably a reflusso (update: Neil says it means reflux) which was aggravated by the fact that everything in Monica's upper body is a bit closer together now she's pregnant, and further exacerbated by the fact that she got up suddenly in panic. So we decided to go to A&E to get a check. This is something I've done myself actually. When I was working at the Exeter RD&E hospital, I had a pain in my chest and had it checked out (rather oddly meeting my old Exeter University Choral Society conductor, who was working at the reception) because it doesn't pay to ignore these things, even if it does turn out to be nothing. I won't go into how it happened, except to say that we went to the wrong hospital, and from thereon in, the whole process was dealt with very badly, but we were there for about four hours, and only left after midnight. In any case, Monica's fine, but she'll have to pay attention to not eating big meals, and eating frequently instead.

My sausage was a bit cold by that point.

One of the other things that's changed is that my little niece Beatrice has got bigger. I understand that this is in accordance with the general trend. Monica had been telling me for weeks on the phone, but she is a very happy baby. She's always laughing, and I should hope so too, because she cerainly eats enough to be a very happy baby. She was a little wary of me at first, because I haven't seen her for some time and she's forgotten who I am, but she got over it pretty quickly. We took her out for a stroll the other day, and saw another of Offgna's little novelties, the Mary Poppins bookshop. Nice. Bought a couple of cards at exorbitant prices.

Other than that, not much to report. Brought a few books with me: A Concise History of Italy, which I'm rereading because I've forgotten most of the contents, Learn New Testmant Greek by John Dobson and The Two Towers in Italian. It's something of a celebratory time here in Offagna, because Fabrizio the deacon has finally got his upgrade to priest, and is celebrating his first mass in Offagna tomorrow in the Church of the (really) Blessed Sacrament.

Berlusconi

Image via Wikipedia

The man is a dangerous fool. I would have liked to write something much stronger, but I'd hate to turn people off the gentler religious content here.

Just read this from the Guardian. He's trying to censor Facebook and blogging.

He's trying to censor Facebook and blogging. It's not enough that he basically owns Italian TV, has incredible influence over the papers, intimidating the ones that criticise him and governs the bloody country, he's trying to censor the Internet like in, you know, communist China!

Seriously - do us all a favour. Write to your local MP and tell them that you're very concerned about the activities of a certain intellectual pygmy who has somehow contrived  to become the prime minister of a country in the European Union. That you, in point of fact, could have sworn that you saw your own prime minister in the same room as the man, speaking to him as if he didn't represent a serious threat to society.

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Saintly Catholic scientist types

Image via Wikipedia

Since Monica's been away, I've been listening to Catholic Answers Live a bit. I like CAL, but I don't usually listen because they're a bit long, and there're 10 of the buggers every week, so it's a bit impegnativo. But give it a listen if you haven't. It's easy to find the podcast, either through the site or iTunes. I like the host they have now; the old one was a bit earnest, but they replaced him with a Canadian who's always messing about.

Anyway, I like it, and I like learning new things, such as the existence of two Catholic scientists who otherwise would not have passed under my radar. One is a Saint (*) and the other is having his cause for sainthood postulated.

The one I just found out about is St. George Jackson Mivart (see also Catholic Encyclopedia). I went to the trouble of  editing a video of the CAL show that mentioned him so here it is:

It's only 2 minutes, and it saves me from paraphrasing other people, but he's an interesting person.

The other person I found out about is "servant of God", Jérôme Lejeune. No mp3 to fall back on here - he did important research into Down syndrome, discovering that children with the disease have an extra copy (called a trisomy) of a chromosome in chromosome 21. From the wikipedia entry, I have also just learnt why my wife is currently knocking back the folic acid. He doesn't have a cause for sainthood because of the science, obviously, but because of the love he showed to Down syndrome children.

So I found that quite interesting and hopefully you did too. It's good to find out more about your brothers in Christ, and the many gifts that they offered to Christ, the Church and the world.

Update

* Confusingly he may not be a Saint after all. The wikipedia talk page says he's simply named for St. George. Why does life have to be so confusing?

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Albums Meme

Just remembered that I like these meme things, so, inspired by the fact that I've just finished transferring my music into iTunes (woohoo!), I've decided to start another one. It's a bit lighter than a prayer meme...

First album you bought? (obviously)

Pulp - Different Class. Nothing to be ashamed of there.

The artist with the most albums in your collection?

Not absolutely sure, but Captain Beefheart and his/the Magic Band is a safe bet.

Most pretentious album?

Set myself a bit of a challenge here; there are so many potential candidates: inaccessible jazz and classical music, art-rock, Marxist rock, music which is simply gratuitously obscure. I think I'll go with Ornette Coleman - Beauty is a Rare Thing. I mean, honestly, who buys a jazz box set?

Most embarrassing album (that you don't want to get rid of)?

Cover of Second First Impression

The category which inspired the meme: Daniel Bedingfield - Second First impression. The difficult second album! I didn't actually bother putting this one on iTunes though - I was listening to Gotta (sic) Get Thru (sic) This instead. Cough.

Most under-rated album (by other people, not you)?

Longpigs - The Sun is Often Out. All killer, no filler. Don't understand why they didn't manage to put another half-decent album out afterwards.

An album you own because of a particular person?

Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention - Weasels Ripped My Flesh. When I was doing my A-levels, my English Lit teacher went off on pregnancy, and the Vice-Principal did a stint of teaching to cover her absence. Nice man. He was quite the ex-hippy, and I forget how it happened, but he lent me this album, which I bought. Odd, considering the scorn that Zappa pours on hippies.

Last album you bought?

Two together, as it happens. Abba - 18 Hits (Monica felt that Abba was a gap in my collection, and she had a point I feel) and Fabrizio De André - Anime Salve

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Prayer Meme

James got tagged for a meme, which I liked the sound of. He didn't tag me for it, but as I feel like doing it:

Name your three [...] favourite prayers, and explain why they're your favourites. Then tag five [people] - give them a link, and then go and tell them they have been tagged. Finally, tell the person who tagged you that you've completed the meme... [The Liturgy and the Sacraments are off limits here.] I'm more interested in people's favourite devotional prayers.

Not that these are in order of preference, but first would be the Jesus prayer.

There is no definitive version; it's a sort of continuum starting simply from the Holy Name of Jesus itself to a phrase based on some healing miracles of Jesus and the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector:

Jesus - Lord Jesus, Son of David [or Son of the living God], have mercy on me, a sinner!
(Mt 20:30-34, Mk 10:46-52, Lk 18:35-42, Lk 18:9-14)

This is also a liturgical prayer, but never mind. Consider that the original Greek of the gospels for "Lord, have mercy!" became the the ecclesiastical Greek of the penitential rite: "Kýrie, eléison."

I suppose the main reason that I like this prayer is that it never seems out of place! It's also simple and easy to remember. I understand that some Orthodox Christians actually use it as a form of constant meditation, though that still sounds like a pretty tall order to me. I've found it very helpful in times of temptation.

And consider what's being requested too:

"Lord," they answered, "we want our sight."

"Rabbi, I want to see."

"Lord, I want to see,"

It was Fr. Robert Barron of the Word On Fire podcast (he's American, but don't hold it against him; I suspect he's a convert from evangelicalism - he always begins his homilies with "Friends, ...") who pointed out to me that with this prayer, and consequently in the penitential rite, you're not wallowing in "Catholic" guilt, but simply acknowledging your radical dependence on Jesus to see the world through God's eyes, recognising the extent of your spiritual blindness and asking for the healing that we need in order to be conformed to Christ - that is, to become men, made in the image of God.

Then there's the litany of the saints. It's long (though in fact, like the Jesus prayer, I don't believe there's a definitive version), but the obvious part goes like this:

St. Peter, pray for us.
St. Paul, pray for us.
St. Andrew, pray for us.
St. James, pray for us.
etc.

Looking at it on paper, it probably seems dull as ditchwater, not helped by the fact that there are rather a lot of saints to invoke, if you're in the mood, but I find it a beautiful prayer. Something to experience rather than read - like all prayer then. There's also the fact that, at least in my experience, it is sung rather than recited. The major part of it is a very simple chant that a child could pick up pretty quickly, but it draws you in, it helps you to meditate on the fellowship, witness and intercession of our brothers in Christ.

That's the obvious focus of the prayer, the communion of the saints, and it so happens that this is a doctrine which is dear to me. When I became Catholic, I had the distinct impression of entering a larger world, and the saints have a lot to do with that. How awesome to think of all the heroes of faith who intercede for me in the Church, the body of Christ, the one mediator between God and men! Evangelicals are great at fellowship compared to Catholics - on a practical level they kick our arses frankly, but when I think of the universal -in time and space - Church, of the men and women who are on my side in the struggle against sin, the world and the devil, it doesn't seem to matter so much.

Another part of the reason that I like it so much is because it reminds me of so many particular positive moments, mostly at Sacred Heart, my old parish in Exeter: my reception into the Catholic Church at my first Easter Vigil, a beautiful ordination I went to on my birthday one year with James and Ben, my stint with the awesome Sacred Heart 11 o' clock Choir, my own wedding. It's an important enough prayer for me that I wanted it there on that day, and I wanted to sing it to proclaim my love and commitment to Monica to the whole assembly of God.

Than there's the Angelus. Again, I won't quote the whole thing (though it's not long). Here's what seems to me to be the crux of it:

V. The angel of the Lord announced unto Mary.
R. And she conceived by the Holy Spirit.
Hail Mary...

V. Behold the handmaid of the Lord.
R. Be it done unto me according to your Word.
Hail Mary...

V. And the Word was made flesh.
R. And dwelt among us.
Hail Mary...

As a Catholic, I'm a pretty lousy with Marian prayer; to me the rosary seems as though it's designed to confuse me (I repeat a vocal prayer 50 times while trying to meditate on something else?) but this one speaks to me. In case you didn't know, one of the reasons that we Catholics venerate Mary is that she is the disciple of Christ par excellence. This prayer doesn't actually have that much to do with angels, but is has a lot to do with that discipleship; Mary accepts that message and mission of the Lord (no small matter; remember that, if people put two and two together, she was cruising for a stoning?) in her heart and becomes the Mother of God, of the Eternal Word made flesh in her body. Evangelism? She literally brought the Word of God into the world.

It's a short, largely scriptural prayer which reminds us of the importance of discipleship and evangelism. That's good.

I'm blogging this here, but I'll do the tagging part on Facebook.

Update:


An hon mensh for Psalm 27:

One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.

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Yay!

Not sure I can remember how to post on here again. Have not been on here in yonks!

Well my piece of interesting and good news is my school is out of special measures. YAY!

I just wanted to post on here really I am sure you all know.


Hey where has my picture gone?

The bells, the bells

Image via Wikipedia

Last Saturday Monica and I went to S. Antonio's for confession with Don Alcide and Monica spotted some bells at the back of the church. When we'd all done with confessing, Don Alcide asked me if I'd seen them, so I said "Yes;" this being the fact of the matter "what are they doing there?"

S. Antonio's used to be run by capuchin monks (friars I'm pretty sure, but the newsletter call them fathers), but relatively recently it came back into the hands of the diocese, due to the financial crisis I think. Incidentally, this means that Don Alcide has a lot more room than one priest really needs. Anyway, it seems that the capuchins meant to put up some bells to replace the speakers that they'd been making do with. Apparently this is an unusual thing to do in this day and age, but they wanted to. However, with the parish being returned to the diocese, it got put on the back-burner.

But now they're sitting at the back of church waiting to go up, for Easter I gather, and they were blessed at the 11 o'clock mass last week. Unfortunately we weren't there so that we could go on a guided tour of Sassuolo (don't worry Sunday obligation fans, we have options) but I wanted to put up the texts on the bells, because it's good stuff. I can't vouch for the accuracy of the translations, because the original texts are in Latin, and I translated from the Italian translation, but I don't imagine it's that far off:

First Bell

Image: Blessed Virgin Mary

My soul magnifies the Lord

I praise the true God,
I call the faithful,
I gather the Clergy,
I mourn for the dead,
I shatter the lightning,
I solemnise the feasts.

Second Bell

Image: St. Francis of Assisi

Seraphic Patriarch

I believe, Lord, but that I may believe more firmly.
I hope, but that I may hope much more.
I love, but that I may love more ardently.
I have repented, but that I may repent more intensely.

Third Bell

Image: St. Anthony of Padua

Father of the poor

May my voice be the terror of all demons.

Fourth Bell

Image: St. Pio of Pietrelcina

I am crucified even without the Cross.
My word is a word of life.
I summon you for holy things; come.

Fifth Bell

Image: Angels

Glory to God in the highest heavens

All the Angels, the Heavens, all the Powers, the
Cherubim and the Seraphim ceaselessly proclaim:
HOLY, HOLY, HOLY.

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Merry Christmas everyone!

Gosh,

Well, a lot has happened since I last sat down to blog. I'd better have a go at summarising it all. Then when I'm finshed Monica will tell me that I've forgotten something important. Such is life.

I'm in Offagna for Christmas. Right now I'm on the ground floor, listening to Hoffnung's Music Festivals, what Mum and Dad got me. This because our laptop is dead again, only this time it seems properly dead. We got a bit over a year's worth of work out of it, and since it only had a year's warranty, and since it seems to be the mother board and processor that are dead, there's not much to do except buy another one. Ho. Hum.

At least we managed to get back to Offagna for Christmas. We had snow in Sassuolo what seems like an eternity ago, just the once, but it didn't even start to thaw until Christmas Eve Eve, when we were due to catch our train back. The snow we could have coped with, but after the snow came, it drizzled a little bit, and the drizzle froze and became ice. I don't think I'm prone to exaggeration - let's just say it was a little awkward to get to work. Anyhow, the trains were all in chaos (it's only fair to say that there's always chaos on the trains in Italy for Christmas) - 500 mins delay anyone? - but we managed to get onto a carriage without heating and lighting, and I was pretty pleased with that. There was some confusion at Bologna I think, and we changed onto a slower train, but it all turned out in the end really.

There'll be plenty of people reading who have no idea how my work's been going so I'll tell you; it's going well enough for them. They said they were going to give me 9 month contract, and then more recently they said a 4 year contract, as an apprentice. Nothing signed yet - I'll be lot happier when I sign something. Anyway, we found ourselves (or rather Monica found us) a place in the centre of Sassuolo, son in the new year we'll be moving there. Work is rather mental at the moment. Work is always mental around Christmas of course, but I don't thnk it's just that. Anyway, it's lovely to have a nice long, Italian-style break.

We haven't been the most socially-active of bunnies, but we've visited some places in the vicinity, Modena, Reggio-Emilia and Fiorano. Fiorano is just over the way from Sassuolo, in the hills, and has a Sanctuary, which is very posh like. By an odd coincidence I have discovered that an IT bod, Adriano, at work directs the choir of the Sanctuary, so it looks as though I may have finally found somewhere to sing - hurrah! We managed to catch a few free Christmas concerts too. As it's some kind of centenary of Handel, we managed to hear some selections from 'Messiah', even in Italy. We also heard some famous arias from the opera in a teeny tiny room, which was very good, even though you can't get opera singers to sing quietly, so we spent a long time with our ears vibrating.

I assure you that I'm not writing in order of importance, just as things come to me. I'm an uncle! Vanessa gave birth to Beatrice. She had to have a C section, and Beatrice was premature, was breathing a bit poorly and managed to get a bit of jaundice as well, so unfortunately she's not with us for Christmas, but she's essentially fine. We're all looking forward to meeting her properly, but it seems we're still in for a little wait.

What else...

I will have already told you about Italian Christmases, so I won't spend too long on that, but just say that we spent Christmas Eve eating seafood round Monica's auntie's place. Carlo made a wicked sauce for the spaghetti. Today, for Christmas, it was the nuclear Zagalia family plus husbands. Soon I shall be speaking to Mum and Dad on Skype with any luck.

A week in Sassuolo

Image via Wikipedia

You can tell that a corner has been turned in technological-interpersonal relations when your mum says she's surprised you haven't updated you blog.

So, a week ago we arrived in Sassuolo, after a train journey of a bit longer than three hours, with the two biggest suitcases we could get our hands on, to sign the paperwork for my tirocinio, essentially low-paid work experience. But, very much on the plus side, they're paying for our accomodation, so it actually works out very generous, especially given that we're essentially staying in a hotel. It seems a bit ridiculous really - we've been very lucky. I forget precisely what we did that day, but it won't have been too much 'cos we were cream-crackered.

The most reasonably-priced supermarket is just over the road, and today Monica informed me that they have HP brown sauce, Colman's mustard, Weetabix and Jordan's cereals, which, sadly, but in all honestly, is a bit mind-blowing.

My first working week started on a Tuesday. It's a 20 minute walk, which I can't really complain about. We are at the edge of town though really, which is a bit of a bore. It took me quite a few efforts to find the quickest route using a map. They're not big on labelling streets in Italy. Monica seems to think it's much of a muchness in England, but I don't think so.

For the first week I was working entirely on one series of documents for one client, to do with cars. It wasn't gripping stuff, but it was useful, because I kept on seeing the same terminology over and over again, and I was revising it, so I saw both versions. The revision seems to be paper-based, which is charmingly low-tech, but I'm not quite sure that the disadvantages don't outweigh the benefits. The work environment seems pretty good - a bit less today I think, but then it's Monday even in Italy. Tomorrow I finally get a computer and another job to do.

On Saturday we had quite a frustrating day really. Monica saw a cheap iron in the publicity for a supermarket. We needed an iron because the hotel doesn't have ironing facilities for the guests, but you can pay for them to do it for you - sod that. We went for a 20 minute walk to buy the iron, among other things, 20 minutes back in order for the iron to break pretty much instantly and Monica to take an extended look on the bleak side of life until we went back to the same place to buy a more expensive iron, and shell out for the adaptor* and extension lead that we needed to buy in any case. And then we walked back. Then we found out that a letter form the Student Loans company dated April had arrived in Offagna (quite a sense of timing that the postal service have, eh?) which seems to indicate that Monica has to cough up a number of hundreds of quids, plus she has to see the doctor about something. Humph.

Sunday we went to mass, obviously. We decided to try S. Antonio because they seem to have loads going on, a choir, two seperate groups for married couples, Rinnovamento nello Spirito and so on. We were a bit disappointed. We had a peek at the church during the week, and Monica isn't keen on the architecture. I think she finds it harder than I do to look beyond these things; I'm not mad keen on it myself, but I don't think it's that horribly modern actually. I don't know if they do this in English Catholic parishes, but here sometimes you get someone popping up at the lectern and giving brief reflections/commentaries on the mass. It's usually pretty trite and you want them to let the priest get on and say mass because the ordinary liturgy is rather more inspiring. They had one of those. It was the music that really let it down though. Perhaps you'll think me unkind, but I would have found it easier to worship without the music group (it wasn't really a choir - I could see that coming in all honestly). The musicians were pretty okay actually, but the mix was all wrong**; you couldn't hear the words of whatever they were singing, and there didn't even seem to be any hymnals - in Italy you're just expected to know the words. We couldn't really hear the singers, just enough to know that they were a bit ropey. I bet that they practise with the instruments too loud as well, so they never really hear themselves. I'm not just a young fogey, I promise - I like guitars and whatnot, but it jsut didn't come together - it was more of a distraction from the liturgy than anything, and I don't need any help with being distracted.

Well, that was negative way to end that blog entry. Never mind. Until the next time I, or someone else (hah!), blogs, toodle-oo.

* Because it's not enough to have one kind of silly European plug in Italy, they have two which seem to alternate at random, and you can only plug certain everyday eletrical appliances into a given socket!

** I don't know quite what it is about Italians and mixing desks, but they don't seem to mix (so to speak). Italian sound set-ups, whether in church, on the radio or the television, always make me think that I could do better with one hand tied behind my back.