Of Gelato and the Feast of San Rufino

The feast of St. Clare was interesting here in Rome. On Friday afternoon I came home from school very tired, both from the week itself and also from having just taken the test to pass over, Deo volente, to the next level Italian class. I was looking forward to a quiet afternoon, and maybe a chance to do some laundry. Instead, one of the friars appeared to tell me that we had been invited to a solemn vespers next door at the monastery of the Capuchin Poor Clares. Within their walls, of course, the feast of St. Clare is a solemnity, complete with first vespers.

It was good to pray and sing in the worship of God and the veneration of our holy mother Clare. However, the surprises continued when, at the end of the prayer, the abbess announced that there would then be ice cream. And so I was led into the cloister where we all sat down in the courtyard. Everyone was given an ice cream cone. It was a curious thing, suddenly meeting, in the most ordinary fashion, these women with whom I had been praying the Mass each day for a month. One of them turned out to be an American.

The feast of St. Clare was also the occasion of my learning a curious little bit of Franciscan trivia that I had never known in all of my eighteen years of varying relationship to the movement. It started when I read the martyrology yesterday. This is why I enjoy reading and praying through the martyrology; you learn stuff.

The first entry for yesterday was, of course, our holy mother Clare: Memoriae sanctae Clarae, virginis, quae, prima planta Pauperum Dominarum Ordinis Minorum...I love how it includes the autobiographical 'little plant.' (For those with the 2004 LEV edition, note the unfortunate typo.)

But then, reading on, I came across another familiar personage: Asisii in Umbria, sancti Rufini, qui primus huius civitatis episcopus et martyr habetur. 'At Assisi in Umbria, San Rufino, held to be a martyr and first bishop of the city.'

Rufino is, of course, the patron saint of Assisi. If you arrive in Assisi by means of the local bus from Santa Maria degli Angeli, and are smart enough to take the bus all the way to Piazza Mateotti so you don't have to walk anywhere uphill, San Rufino, the cathedral, is probably the first church you will see.

Reading all this I began to wonder. How does this work liturgically, since the feast of St. Clare and the feast of San Rufino seem to be on the same day? So at supper last night I asked the friars. They then explained to me this fun little Franciscan fact that I had never known: the feast of St. Clare of Assisi is celebrated on August 11 everywhere in the world except in Assisi itself, where it is impeded by the titular observance of San Rufino. In Assisi, the feast of St. Clare is put of until the next day, August 12.

However, in the midst of all this liturgical trivia, let us not miss the truly edifying example of St. Clare in her very devout act of passing from this life on the feast day of the patron saint of her hometown.

Pray for us.

God Is the Bigger Elvis

In the quiet of a Friday afternoon yesterday, I finally got around to seeing Rebecca Cammisa's God Is the Bigger Elvis, the short film about Dolores Hart which came to everyone's attention when it was nominated for an Academy Award this past year.




I appreciated several aspects of the little documentary. Most simply, as a Connecticutian myself, I had always been curious about the Abbey of Regina Laudis, but had never visited or known much about it.

On a deeper level, though, I was grateful for the way the film treats of the religious vocation in an individual life. In addition to the story of Dolores herself, the vocation stories of a couple of other nuns are touched upon as well. There's a reverence about the treatment, in the sense that a religious vocation is, on the one hand, something for which no apology needs to be made. On the other hand, the film communicates well that the experience of vocation touches upon certain intimacies and mystery that defy being shared with an audience.

I also appreciated how religious life is displayed in all of its unglamorous plainness. I was reminded of the Trappist who told me that his favorite aspect of Philip Gröning's Into Great Silence was that it showed the monks with unsightly nose and ear hair. "Religious life is not so pretty as it usually seems in the movies, brother." (Of course I also loved seeing the Abbey liturgy. The sisters were praying in Latin (according to the spirit of Vatican II)  and were shown receiving Holy Communion by intinction--and I mean the right way, on the tongue and without illicit self-communication.)

Most of all, the film made me reflect on celibacy. In it one meets Dolores's former fiancé, with whom she broke up in order to enter the Abbey. He is even shown making a visit. Almost fifty years later he admits that he isn't over Dolores, and doesn't appear to have ever married. The whole business sits at the awkward intersection of sweet and sad. Anyone in professional ministry will have their boundary buzzers go off during these scenes, but perhaps it reminds us that boundaries are often messier than what our textbooks taught us.

Even though I reflect on it from time, I don't blog on it because I don't have anything solid to say, but the film certainly convinced me even more that female and male celibacy are somewhat different things. Maybe some readers have thoughts on that.

Maybe I missed it, but one thing I was surprised to miss was a mention of Dolores having played St. Clare in Francis of Assisi (1961).

God Is the Bigger Elvis is really worth a look if you have a chance.

Before the Mirror of Eternity

In today's gospel (John 8:21-30), Jesus is asked, "Who are you?" It fascinates me that he answers by talking about the Father. In the mysterious divine unity, Jesus cannot talk about who he is without speaking of the Father.

I've been spending a lot of time this semester reading on the Blessed Trinity. Much of it is very beautiful and inspiring, but none of it is easy.

But as I was praying through the passage yesterday, I began to think that the study and contemplation of the Blessed Trinity is a fulfillment of the beautiful advice of St. Clare to St. Agnes of Prague: "Place your mind before the mirror of eternity."

For the divine economy by which we are saved is the processions of the Blessed Trinity, in mirror image, as it were.

In eternity, the Father generates the Son, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son.

God's passionate desire for our beatitude, our salvation revealed in time, works a 'recession' that goes the other way: The Spirit conceives the humanity of Christ, which becomes the Way for us to enter into the delighted unity of the Father and the Son, 'filiated' to the Father as sons and daughters in the Son.

Our contemplation, then, is the placing of our minds and hearts before the mirror of eternity, for the eternal processions and relations of the Blessed Trinity are the mirror image of their revelation to us as our salvation.

Stability and Poverty

This morning was one of the first in a while on which it was actually warm enough to walk to the Poor Clare monastery for Mass (as opposed to me pretending it's warm enough because I would rather walk.) It's also light now at six in the morning when I set out. He must increase, said John of the Light of the world. It is one of our great privileges here in the northern hemisphere that astronomy imitates revelation.

Sister Sacristan had two announcements for me this morning. The first was a liturgical direction, delivered conveniently between the opening prayer and the first reading: "There's no chalice for the sisters, Father. They have colds."

The second was some news from their community: they had been joined by a new postulant. And there she was, as I noticed myself when I gave the greeting at the beginning of Mass. Surely it's a great joy for the sisters; they are an aging community and have not had many vocations in recent years. When I was last in Boston studying for ordination, they had two novices at one point, one of whom I used to run into on the subway sometimes (what she was doing out, I have no idea). To the other riders of the Orange Line, we must have looked like a funny couple indeed.

I was thinking what a tremendous thing it must be to enter such a community, to propose to oneself and to God the plan of living the rest of one's life within one set of walls and with one set of sisters. I realize that sometimes we mendicant Franciscans put such an emphasis on our homelessness and itinerancy as partly constitutive of our evangelical poverty, but it is also a holy poverty to profess stability and the renunciation of 'going out' into the world in search of material support. Clare knew this, of course, that stability and enclosure assure a very intense poverty indeed.

In you charity offer a prayer for the new postulant.

Feast of St. Clare Blog Roundup

The blogosphere is alive with posts for the feast of St. Clare today. Here are some to check out:

View from the Choir has posted Clare's beautiful letter to Ermentrude of Bruges.

Portiuncula has a picture of Clare's mantle and the collect for the day.

A Capuchin Journey has a great quote from Clare's correspondence with Agnes of Prague.

Communio has a prayer, a quote, and some good links.

Be Thou my Vision has a reflection on Clare, humility, and trust.

And we shall not forget a whole blog dedicated to Clare's spirit and inspiration, Canticle of Chiara.

Prefaces of St. Clare

One of the treasures of the Franciscan liturgical calendar is having proper prefaces for Francis and Clare. Here is the preface for Clare's Mass in the 1962 Missale Romano-Seraphicum:

Per ómnia saécula saeculórum.
R. Amen.
V. Dóminus vobíscum.
R. Et cum spíritu tuo.
V. Surusm corda.
R. Habémus ad Dóminum.
V. Grátias agámus Dómino Deo nostro.
R. Dignum et iustum est.

Vere dignum et iustum est, aequum et salutáre,
nos tibi simper et ubíque grátias ágere:
Dómine, sancte Pater, omnípotens aetérne Deus:

Qui fámulam tuam Claram,
per beátum Francíscum,
studio vitae sublimióris incénsam,
ad sanctae Maríae Virginis
aram Fílio tuo mýstice desponsásti;
eámque, ad seráphicae perfectiónis culmen evéctam,
matrem plurimárum virginum delegísti.

Et ídeo cum Angelis et Archángelis, cum Thronis et
Dominatiónibus, cumque omni milítia caeléstis exércitus,
hymnum glóriae tuae cánimus, sine fine dicéntes:


And here is the version as it appears in the 1974 Roman-Franciscan Sacramentary:

V. The Lord be with you.
R. And also with you.
V. Lift up your hearts.
R. We lift them up to the Lord.
V. Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
R. It is right to give him thanks and praise.

Father all-powerful and ever-living God,
we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks.
You wondrously inflamed your servant Clare
to follow like Francis in the footsteps of your Son.

To him you espoused her mystically
through perpetual fidelity and love.
Raising her to the summit of seraphic perfection
through the highest poverty.
You made her the mother of countless virgins.

Through him the choirs of angels and all the powers of heaven
praise and worship your glory. May our voices blend with theirs
as we join in their unending hymn of praise:


The progression is interesting. In the newer preface, the Marian element is eliminated, but some specifically Franciscan vocabulary is added, such as "highest poverty" and the idea of following in the "footsteps" of Christ. Amen. Pray for us, holy mother Clare.

Movie Review: Clare and Francis

Yesterday I watched the film Clare and Francis. Directed by Fabrizio Costa and originally produced as a mini-series for Italian TV, this 2007 production is now available as a DVD from the trustworthy Ignatius Press. My reaction is mixed. On the one hand this is a praiseworthy effort on several counts; but to me it doesn't quite succeed in being a good movie.

The greatest success of the film is the effort to be true to history and the sources we have for the life of Francis. It covers a huge amount of material and historical territory, beginning (laudably) with the civil wars and insurrections of the Assisiani in 1198-9 and the battle of Collestrada in 1202, both of which are critical to understanding Francis's background. From there we pass through Francis's imprisonment, conversion, the growth of the early fraternity, the rebuilding of San Damiano, the approval of the primitive Rule, the escape of Clare from her family, Francis's trip to the east and the crisis of leadership upon his return, his illness, stigmata, and death.

Some of the critical conversion moments are dramatized quite nicely, such as the encounters of Francis with the lepers, the message from the crucifix of San Damiano, and the dream of the arms and its subsequent reinterpretation. (To this I would also add the scene of Clare's tonsure, which is one of the most dramatic moments in the whole production.) In this the film is also to be praised for showing Francis's conversion as a sum of various experiences.

On the other hand, Clare and Francis covers so much ground that the progression of parts seemed a little mechanical to me. It also makes it very long when packaged as a single movie; listed at 200 minutes, the whole thing is over three hours. I also found the acting rather flat, though Maria Petruolo occasionally captures a little pathos as Clare. Ettore Bassi didn't do much for me as Francis, but perhaps my own expectations are intense and loaded. (Perhaps I'm not to be trusted on this point, however, as my favorite movie Francis is Mickey Rourke, whom nobody else seems to like.) Even someone like Brother Elias, for whom it would have been easy to capture the ambiguity of his place in the tradition, seemed one-sided. The best characters are Bishop Guido and Pietro Bernardone, who is presented as basically well-meaning until he is finally reduced to rage. Monaldo Favarone, Clare's uncle, makes a serviceable movie villain.

Even more, because the film is clearly working hard to be historically accurate--such that is even possible--I cringed once in a while when certain events about which we don't know much get dramatized in very particular ways. The 1209 trip to Rome for the approval of the primitive Rule is the best example. Clare and Francis presents this great event in the history of the movement as having a very definite motivation within very specific pressures. It's not that the suggestions are uninformed or outlandish, but we just don't know these things for sure and can't say with absolute certainity that this trip ever even happened.

Clare and Francis is clearly presenting itself as an effort to lift up Clare to her proper place within the early Franciscan movement. On this count the film is partially successful. But to be really true to this ambition, it would have had to go on for another two hours in order to cover the rest of Clare's life, the twenty-seven years she outlived Francis, providing both a charismatic authority within the movement and an incontrovertible connection with Francis and the genius of the early fraternity. Other parts take away from this effort by being just plain corny, such as the heartfelt encounter of teenage Francis with little girl Clare as she escapes to Perugia with her family.

Twice during the film the friars at San Damiano are depicted assisting at Mass. Both times they are interrupted, and at one point it seems like there is a danger of desecration to the Blessed Sacrament. One imagines that Francis would have taken this much more seriously than he seems to.

In any case, here's my bottom line on Clare and Francis: if you are looking for a responsible treatment of the lives of Francis and Clare and the beginnings of the Franciscan movement, perhaps as an educational presentation, this would be a fine choice in many of its parts or as a whole. If you are looking for a good movie, maybe not.

The DVD says that it can be watched in the original Italian or dubbed (very well) into English. I wanted the Italian, but the language options wouldn't work for me. Subtitles in English and Spanish are also supposed to be included.

Follow this link to check it out.

Francis and Clare Medals

Thanks be to God I'm safely back from pilgrimage! It was really a wonderful time--good brothers, good directors, places of such grace.

One of my special finds was the religious articles wholesaler in Assisi, where I bought (among other things) a bunch of Francis and Clare medals. They're small, round medals, about 3/4 inch in diameter, with Francis on one side and Clare on the other. I blessed them in prayer before the San Damiano crucifix, which famously spoke to Francis and which remained in Clare's monastery throughout her life.

If you would like one, send me an email.

Trinity

The Trinity is not just a doctrine of God. Among other things, it is a doctrine of our spiritual life, of our interface with the divine life. Consider, for example, the Form of Life Given to Saint Clare by Francis:

Since by divine inspiration you have made yourselves daughters and handmaids of the Most High King and heavenly Father, and have betrothed yourselves to the Holy Spirit to live according to the perfection of the holy Gospel, I will and promise for me and my brothers to always have for you the same loving care and special solicitude I have for them.

The Holy Spirit inspires us to live according to the Gospel, that is the Word of God, the same Word made flesh in Jesus Christ. By living, through the power of the Spirit, according to the pattern of Jesus Christ, we are made children, servants, and friends of the Most High God is the first Source of all.