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During the visit to Assisi

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Catacombs of Sant’Agnese

Paige Pagan

7-21-16

I’m a morbid person, this I’m aware of. I get told all the time that my fascination with death is a bit on the creepy side. However, I don’t think of it that way. I view death for what it really is, something that’s an inevitable part of life and something spontaneous in a way that we will never know when our time will come to an end. I’m interested in the ethics of death like abortion and euthanasia, religions views of death like purgatory and the caste system, death in itself like if you will get buried, cremated or become a cadaver, and the afterlife, the complete freedom of one’s soul. Death is my niche, something that will constantly keep me thinking.

When we viewed the catacombs today at Sant’Agnese, I expected simply empty ancient graves. I didn’t expect to see the actual skeleton of people. When I saw the bones that were once the structure of muscular legs and the small shrunken skull of a potentially bigger headed individual, I was fascinated. How quickly humans become a pile of bones for dogs play. I mean, some people will think that statement is disrespectful but honestly, you’re brought into this world naked and vulnerable and you die alone. It doesn’t matter how much riches one person has and how poor others are, we will all become compost in the same way. When I saw the two skeletons today, I wasn’t in awe that this was an actual body. I was admiring how this person can still be looked at centuries later and show that what’s important is one’s spirit. That person can be resting in peace alongside Jesus, a goal that I can imagine every Christian obtains. No one will stay young and beautiful forever. Underneath the skin, we’re all just walking sacks of bones. Being at that specific location at that specific time made me see that there’s no time to waste. One must enjoy the present quickly before we become actual waste.

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Sistine Chapel

Paige Pagan

7-21-16

The Sistine Chapel in the Vatican is definitely a sight to see. It is true that pictures can not compare to the real view. It was an amazing experience to see Michelangelo’s genius work of art. What makes the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel doubly unique is that it depicts the book of Genesis, whereas many artworks depict stories on other main books such as Revelations. Out of the nine different stories shown on the ceiling, my personal favorite would have to be The Creation of Adam. The image instantly sends a spark through me and gives me goosebumps, what I would imagine happened to Adam when God’s finger did actually touch his. Even though there’s so much to say on all the paintings on the Sistine’s ceiling, I’m going to focus on one. It wasn’t my favorite, but it wasn’t my least favorite either. This image actually had me torn, and for that reason, I’m going to confess my controversial opinion on this fresco.

To begin, I’m not extremely knowledgable on the subject of Greek mythology. Therefore, in the reasonable time I took to analyze The Last Judgement I had to pay close attention to the many events occurring in one fresco. It was an amazing sight, it just took a while to understand fully. Christians have always imagined what the last judgement will really look like. To take the words of the bible and turn it into a miraculously accurate scene took raw talent. The one thing that was really striking to me and turned on my curiosity switch was the image in the bottom right. It shows a naked man that’s in the pit of Hell with a coiled snake wrapped around him. This man is surrounded by many demons pulling down those who didn’t deserve an entrance into Heaven. I stood fixated on this man for some time, trying to decipher who he was. My original thought was that he was Judas, the devil. Through inquiry I found out that he was actually Minos, judge of the underworld. This made sense, however some part of me still thought of him as the devil. Jesus is in the center of the fresco with the Virgin Mary accepting those who have followed him to enter the wonders of Heaven. It only matched up to me that Minos would be the devil pulling down his demons. Then my thought process went beyond this fresco. I thought about it and I actually don’t recall any images of the devil as a human. Besides the image of Judas, I don’t see any images of him as satan. Of course there’s typical images of a devil characterized by a scary red creature with horns and a red trident. However, when searching for images of lucifer, I don’t see any. Not that he’s worthy of even being portrayed because he certainly isn’t. It’s just something interesting to ponder.

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Had a great Shabbat dinner with my family and the Lehigh students (ingredients above). It was a week of synagogues--the Great synagogue of Rome, the 2nd Century synagogue of Ostia Antica. #Jewishlifeatlehigh globallehigh

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I got to hangout with a real one after Mass. We got to tour the Italian History Museum at the bottom and then we took the elevator up so that we could see Rome from one of it’s highest points.

 -Sidenote- It’s been amazing getting a chance to sit in on services and learn Catholic hymnal music. One of my duties is helping with arrangements for Mass and today we got to perform a traditional Baptist spiritual for service. 

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The Catacombs.

We have visited the Catacombs (Catacombe di San Castillo) last Tuesday. When I was preparing for the trip, I did not know that the Catacombs were a burial place for the dead: I thought that it was a gathering place for early Christians and was expecting to get an idea of how the early Church looked like, where would the Christians gather, and how would they stoically face persecution. Though the only gathering that happened at the Catacombs of San Castillo was during an annual remembrance of the dead with the celebration of the Eucharist, this burial place does speak to us about the early Church through the remains of frescos, shapes of graves, and various Christian symbols on the walls. I felt that God spoke to me through my visit to the Catacombs, which were crippled by time, in a very different way than when I was visiting the plethora of churches in Rome with their abundance of well-preserved decorations, mosaics, and statues. While we were passing through graves, I have realized that this is how "the valley of the shadow of death" (Psalm 23:4) looks like, on which I have heard a powerful speech from Fr. John Riccardo a while ago and his analysis guided my further reflection. The dark and cold corridors with the tombs carved out for bodies of all sizes had neither a beginning nor end. Occasionally a corridor would end, and you could see a room or a more spacious burial space, and then another one would start. I have felt especially sorrowful when the guide showed us one of the bigger tombs situated in a distinct place within a wall. He explained that these type of burials were usually attributed to families, decorated with a fresco, and that the one he pointed out to us was of special interest because it had an inscription of the feminine name "Irene" on top, which means "peace" in Greek. I pondered for a while about the fate of that woman: Was she buried with her family or alone? Did she have children or was she too young? Was she a confessor or a martyr?... These thoughts did not leave my head while I would see more and more tombs in these long corridors. It was a strange feeling to know that there were once people buried right in front of me, but I could not comfort anyone or do anything about their loss. I saw another tourist touch the tomb stones with great admiration, and I was prompted to do so as well in order to at least feel some connection to those people who were once alive centuries ago. 

Despite of being overwhelmed by sadness, I felt a strong sense of hope throughout the whole visit. It started with a very unexpected coincidence. At the famous statue that depicted the beheading of Saint Cecilia, a group of Dominican Sisters started an impromptu prayer dedicated to their patroness. After a beautiful song each single nun stopped by the statue to venerate the martyr: it was clear that the memory of her heroism is alive today and will be passed on for the generations to come. In a separate room we were also able to see the tombs of famous popes of the Early Church. Most of the early leaders of the church were martyred, which I was contemplating on during the tour as well. Those people would wake up every day knowing that they could be killed any time for their work, and would still continue to lead the early church with firm determination and would lay down their life for its sake. And the church is alive today because of their effort. The symbols on the walls depicting prayer connect to the Christians who pray today, though they do use different hand gestures and posture. The early Christians allowed Roman mothers to provide their children with a proper burial who could be murdered by the head of the family if for him the child was unwanted. Roman women turned their hearts to the new faith because of the compassion they experienced amidst their grief. And lastly, the hopeful spirit of the Christians is felt through the rejection of calling the gravesite "necropolis"("city of the dead") as the Romans would. Instead, Christians called the burial site as what today we would refer to as "cemetery", which in Greek means "a sleeping place". It was a reflection of their firm belief that "the valley of the shadow of death" is not eternal and that they will be Resurrected: "I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me" (Psalm 23:4).

 In the afternoon we were able to reflect even deeper on our trip to the Catacombs by listening to a lecture about martyrdom from Donna. The presentation described certain differences between the early martyrs and the martyrs of today. There are 12,692 "new martyrs". People of other faiths, not only Christians, experience persecution even today throughout the world in large numbers. Official religious institutions are prohibited to perform basic rituals and citizens are stripped of their right to act in accordance with their consciousness by attacks on religious liberty. Though this trip is dedicated to the idea of interreligious dialogue, I think that the Catacombs showed me that we often take the idea of the freedom to have this dialogue for granted. Many people have lost their lives for their faith, and if not their sacrifice theological interfaith discussions would not have existed in the first place. Therefore, we should support religious freedom all over the world in order to be able to reach those who are deprived of the right to practice a religion and answer the call to search for truth within their hearts. 

--- Anastassiya 

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Conversations with a Buddhist Monk

At the beginning of our internship, Prof. Steffen and I had once a conversation with Mandalar from Myanmar who studied at the Lay centre. Mandalar is a Buddhist monk and was invited by the Vatican to Rome for the purpose of inter-religious dialogue, which  has gained a special recognition here in Rome after the Second Vatican Council. Mandalar told me to look up a poem that he has studied in conflictology class from the Buddhist peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh. I found the poem very powerful. 

Call Me by My True Names  by Thich Nhat Hanh (Jul 13, 2015)  

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow because even today I still arrive. Look deeply: I arrive in every second to be a bud on a spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone. I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, in order to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that are alive. I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river, and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time to eat the mayfly. I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond, and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence, feeds itself on the frog. I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks, and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda. I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate, and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving. I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands, and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to, my people, dying slowly in a forced labor camp. My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all walks of life. My pain is like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans. Please call me by my true names, so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once, so I can see that my joy and pain are one. Please call me by my true names, so I can wake up, and so the door of my heart can be left open, the door of compassion.

Taken from http://www.awakin.org/read/view.php?tid=2088

-Anastassiya 

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The truth does not fear dialogue, because truth has never been endangered by dialogue

Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, Encyclical

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Reflections from the conference

As Lehigh University Iacocca Rome interns were had a chance to assist in the organization of the Rome Seminar "Full, Conscious and Active: Lay Participation in the Church's Dialogue with the World" co-sponsored by the College Theology Society and the Lay Centre.  When visiting the panel dedicated to laity as participants in interreligious dialogue, I have noted a strong emphasis on a specific form of interaction - the dialogue of life - in Sandra Keating's presentation. Prof. Keating’s  examination of the writings of Abu Raita al-Takriti as an example of the dialogue of life between Muslims and Christians from the viewpoint of a lay scholar has prompted me to reflect on my own experience of growing up in the multi-religious country of Kazakhstan. I have participated in the dialogue of life between predominantly Muslim and Russian Orthodox representatives from childhood. Kazakhstani people of various backgrounds are each other’s neighbors, colleagues, friends, relatives. By living in one community people are prompted to share joyful moments together, mourn together, participate in the exchange of thoughts and ideas, help each other out in daily activities and support one another in times of difficulty. On a basic human level we resonate with the feelings of others, even though the way that we celebrate or mourn certain events in life might be dictated by very distinct cultural and religious traditions. People in Kazakhstan are very accepting of each other's faith: for example, it is not unusual to see citizens congratulate each other on both Muslim and Christian religious holidays. At the Lay centre this dialogue of life - the ability of students of different faiths to resonate with each other on a basic human level - is interwoven with academic conversations. The Lay centre students study religion and therefore are often more knowledgeable about their own religious tradition than an average person would be. I have witnessed more profound conversations and even debates because of the students’ solid theoretical foundation. Explaining your faith or specific religious practices of your own country can only positively contribute to a deeper understanding and appreciation of your own religion and the beliefs of others: one cannot explain to another person something that they do not know. An academic focus of the conversation also allows us to discover how concepts and ideas that were once studied in a religion class are not an abstract belief, but a visible part of another person's daily life. Therefore, I do agree with Dr. Keating that certain representatives of the laity who are well formed in the teachings of their faith should have the ability to participate in a theological dialogue between religions, even when the dialogue of life still remains the primary means of interreligious communication not only for laity, but for many representatives of various religions across the world.

The second panelist, Giovanna Czander, had used the example of the Focolare movement to describe how the principles of interreligious dialogue promoted by them could be applied to the daily life of the laity. The four principles of the Focolare movement are the following: to exhibit the most universal and unconditional love and the highest form of charity (agape), to exclude no one from this love, to live by the Golden rule, and to love others so much that they will love you back. I was most interested in learning about the dialogue of action, which seems to me the most suitable for promoting interreligious dialogue among youth. Magnanimously serving others or working towards a noble cause requires the four principles of the Focolare as a prerequisite. During this cooperation towards a higher cause, students potentially can engage in a discussion about the moral principles which guide them, which could stem from their religious tradition: justice, mercy, respect for human life and others. Another form of dialogue mentioned by Giovanna Czander that I found interesting was the spiritual dialogue. In her presentation, Prof. Czander has mentioned as an example of this type of dialogue an event organized by the Christian and Jewish communities in New York City. The participants would study Scripture in pairs using the Jewish tradition of studying the Torah with a partner as an example. This type of activity removes any fear associated with compromising our own religious identity, which often arises in interreligious dialogue, and instead provides us with an opportunity to learn something from other religious traditions that can only enhance and develop our own spiritual life. Listening to the presentation and examples of various forms of dialogue made me realize how much wisdom is contained in the four rules of the Focolare movement centered around selfless love: if starting the inter-religious dialogue is the most difficult part, it is possible to overcome any obstacles like prejudices and fears by making a self-giving sacrifice which Giovanna Czander has connected to the Passion in her presentation. Both of the presentations had many interesting ideas and I am only mentioning a fraction of them in this reflection. I am confident that the lessons the interns and I have learned from visiting these two lectures will serve as an inspiration to promote inter-religious dialogue on campus in effective and creative ways.    - Anastassiya  

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Interfaith Anxiety

Danielle Stillman

July 17, 2016

A few nights before I came to Rome to staff the Lehigh in Rome Internship, I had an anxiety dream.  I could have been about any number of anxieties--were the students having a good time, would there be a terrorist attack in Rome, being away from my family for a stretch of time.   But it wasn’t about any of those things.  Here it is:

The Dream

I was on the program in Rome, and all of us connected to it were staying together in an old Roman villa or palace. It was elaborate,with whole rooms of antique furniture cordoned off, museum style. In the dream, as I explored the different rooms of the villa, I kept finding Christmas gifts--Santa Clauses and ornaments, and also Easter eggs, wrapped in tissue paper and hidden in the different rooms. Each one was accompanied by a letter, written by a Catholic priest whom I know.  The letters were addressed to G-d, and they were prayers that I, Danielle, should find my way to Christianity. I remember then seeing the priest, who was there with us, and wondering if I should tell him that I found the letters, or keep it a secret, because I wasn’t sure if they were meant to be found or not.

I woke up feeling unsettled.  The meaning of the dream was pretty clear. Despite friendships and collegial relations, and all the intentions and positive actions of interfaith work, there is a tension there.  What if the other religion secretly wants to convert us?  What if they don’t know how to stop at listening and learning?  And what of the transformation that inevitably occurs in a successful dialogue?  If there is real exchange, we know we will be changed, and that is a vulnerable place to be.

Now I am in Rome for real, and the anxiety of the dream has melted away upon meeting and talking with and getting to know all the wonderful people here, eager to share our religious perspectives without coercion in any direction. But still, I am careful to take care of myself as a Jew in these settings. Friday night, before dinner, the Lay Centre held a Mass for the staff and group that was here for the theological conference. Shabbat was coming in, and I had to decide--to go to Mass with this wonderful group that would be leaving the next morning or to do some Shabbat prayers by myself outside. Not being at Mass meant missing a coming together of the community I was staying in, possibly some communal prayers around the horrible terrorist act in Nice, and a general separating of myself.  But not bringing in Shabbat meant denying myself the rhythm of Jewish time that defines my week.

I chose to go outside to the garden, singing the psalms of praise that make up Kabbalat Shabbat. In order to enter into the universals that are uncovered in interfaith work, I must come from a place of particularity.  From that firm place, I can bring my whole self, and move through the anxieties that my subconscious still seems to harbor.  Friday night I shared the Shabbat table blessings with everyone, and Saturday evening and Sunday morning I happily observed Mass at two different churches.  There is room for it all.

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Opera!

Paige Pagan

7-12-16

Last night I went to see the opera Nebucco. It was such a great show. My favorite character was Abigail, even though she was the “villain” character. It wasn’t hard to follow because there were English subtitles and I had read the description of the show prior to going. All the main characters were great but Abigail topped it all. Her solo that describes her feelings when she finds out that she was an adopted slave was my favorite part. Not only did the character reveal a lovely voice but also her ability to play the role efficiently. She cried and sank to the floor as if she were in real pain. Some people say opera’s are just naturally dramatic but Abigail didn’t over-exaggerate nor did she under-play, she fit the role perfectly. I actually thought she was a cross between Edina Menzel who plays Elphaba in Wicked and the woman who plays Madame Butterfly. Menzel as a strong authoritative figure when Abigail manages to take the crown and imprison her false father and sister. Butterfly as the helpless damsel that must kill herself in order to obtain a life devoid of impurities. Abigail was the type of character that made you feel pity for her when Ismeale rejected her love to be with her sister Fenena, then made you hate her when she took the crown after King Nebuchadnezzar was struck by lightening and granting no mercy, and finally made you feel sad in the end when she drinks poison to her death. I have never gone to a show where the main character made me feel so conflicted. Split between feelings of hate and resentful like, I was forced to simply accept the fact that Abigail was nothing shy of exceptional. Her last high notes of pleads for forgiveness at the end of the show created a hush over the crowd. She had us pulled in so much so that you could probably hear a pin drop.

Nebucco also had a strong voice which fit his character, at least before he gets struck by lightning. When he strongly sings that he was God, I got goosebumps, then of course came the immediate following gasp when he’s struck. Another marvelous voice was that of the high priest Zaccharia. He was also strong when he was telling the Jews to believe in their God. Throughout the entire show all the opera singers deserved a half- hour straight of applause but because it was midnight most only stood about five minutes! This was a bible story turned into a drama but it definitely caught the audience and portrayed a story where you thought was going to be inevitably horrific but turns out to be a happy ending.

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Mass at St. Paul’s

Paige Pagan

7-12-16

Yesterday we had mass at St. Paul’s Outside The Walls with Abbot Edmund Power. As soon as we got there, he was waiting for us. Now my impression of Abbot Edmund Power was that he was a humorous man. While relating the history of the Basilica he still managed to make the group giggle. He gave us a thorough tour of the Basilica of St. Paul, and although I had already toured there, I still learned things about it that I didn’t hear the first time. The message of the mass was powerful as we were also celebrating the Feast of St. Benedict. Even though the mass was wonderful, that’s unfortunately not the focus of this blog. What I’m going to highlight in this piece is my first confession.

Recently, I have been struggling with an illness that I have and I wanted a Priest to pray for me to get through this rough patch. I didn’t plan on confessing any particular sin, I just wanted prayer and blessing. When Donna told me about going to confession after mass, I was determined to do it. I was a bit intimidated since I never done confession before so that was the first thing I told the Priest. However, he was very helpful and guided me through the process. He asked questions like, “Do you love your mother and father?” “Do you lie?” “Do you use foul language?” “Are you jealous or envious of anyone?” I answered honestly for all the questions and then I told him that I was really there to pray for my illness. Right before he was going to pray he asked my name. Without a moments hesitation I said, “Paige.” He seemed puzzled when I answered and then finally asked for my Christian name. I had been baptized in a Catholic church as a baby and only got up to communion so I didn’t get to choose a Christian name at confirmation. When I related this to the priest he said, “Well then I must give you a Christian name.” He looked me over and asked another question that I wasn’t prepared for, “Why do you wear this?” pointing to my white veil head covering. I told him that I thought it would be respectful, I didn’t think it would be wrong. He quickly reassured me that it was very respectful and not many young women my age would do that. So after some more thought he decided to name me Monica after the mother of Saint Augustine. He told me I give off an aura of strength, and Monica would be fitting for me to symbolize being virtuous, unique and diverse. Additionally, he thought Monica would be great for me because she helped her young son Augustine when he was ill until he got better. “For recovered health.” was his reasoning.

First the Priest prayed for my illness, then after I repeated the confessional prayer and saying the Our Father after, I was cleansed of my sins. Honestly it was so rejuvenating, I felt pure and clean, ready to start fresh. After sharing my experience with one of the scholarship students here she congratulated me and I actually felt really proud. Now I’m planning to go on a trip to the Basilica of Sant’Agostino to see the tomb of St. Monica and pray. It feels good to be back.

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Jewish Ghetto and Synagogue

Paige Pagan

7-12-16

Today I was given the amazing opportunity of getting a tour of the Museo Ebraico and Synagogues. Our tour guide, Ursula, was so knowledgeable on Jewish history and culture, it was truly admirable. She showed us how the Jews made a small living in the Roman Jewish Ghetto. It was so fascinating to get a virtual tour of the blocked in ghetto. It’s so hard to imagine Jews being locked within walls and then being shipped to concentration camps right from the location you were standing at. We also learned about Jewish holidays and traditions. Then we were told of some of the horrific stories of Jews being taken to Auschwitz. It was heartwarming to be told that some of the Christians even contributed to the certain amount of gold the Jews had to provide to prevent them from getting taken away, then disheartening to find out that even though they met the amount, they got taken away regardless. We got to see images and learn about when Pope Francis met the Rabbi of Rome. Then we got to enter the synagogue inside the museum, it was beautiful and relieving to hear that it’s very active in use.

When we got to see the main synagogue I was in awe. Out of all the Catholic churches we have seen so far, this synagogue had a higher ceiling than all of them. It was so huge and so spectacular. Ursula made it a point that usual synagogues are not so big and fancy. The architecture and rainbow ceiling were scenes to die for. I liked the idea of not having any images inside the church, only meaningful Hebrew writings. It was also the place of meeting when Pope Francis visited!

At the end of the tour we got to hear from Rita, Donna’s good friend that works on Jewish culture as well. Her story of her Father being a Holocaust survival was remarkable. Out of the somewhat 90% of Jews taken from Rome that never came back, he was one who did. I’ve always wanted to hear a personal account of someone who was affected by the events of the Holocaust, and there was my opportunity. I was overjoyed when she found an image of her grandfather and found distant cousins on her Father’s side. Her story was a great way to top off a very beneficial learning experience of Jewish history and culture.

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Alumni Reunion

Paige Pagan

07-05-16

As the Lay Centre’s 30th anniversary alumni reunion is coming to a close, I have learned many lessons through it myself. Of course I met all new faces as this is my first summer interning at the Lay Centre. Therefore, I didn’t expect to learn so much about the Lay Centre and the community that makes it up and hold these lessons so close to my heart. Throughout these few days I have captured many moments in my mind and admire them for what they were. I can only hope that one day in the long future I will also come back to Rome and visit the Lay Centre, whether it be in the same location or run by familiar faces, I know that I will still be able to call it home as all these alumni do. The biggest and most valuable lesson I have learned from the alumni reunion is community.

It was so interesting and heartwhelming to see the previous places the Lay Centre used to be at such as Piazza Navona and the Irish College. What was particularly touching about these visits were hearing the memories associated with the locations from the vast group of alumni. In one woman, I saw borderline tears in her eyes as she remembered for the first time in a long time her beautiful bedroom view of St. Peters. I saw the smile on another woman’s face as she recounted the hall where the nuns lived at the Piazza Navona location. I heard the laughter of a small group of alumni reliving the memory where someone had fallen into the pool at the Irish College location. As I circled both previous locations and learned about the Lay Centre’s history in general I realized that it took an entire community to start it and then make it flourish. It started with a dream and blossomed into a bright reality.

At the end of the day when we had our fourth of July dinner, my lesson of community was very apparent. At this moment I allowed my own memories of the past few days to pass through me. I remembered carefully planning out the duties of the day’s to come with Hansol, AJ, and Filipe, setting up for the first alumni dinner with Rebecca, Anastasia, Sam, and Jamal, reading at mass with Linda Taggart, given the opportunity by Donna to present the orchids for the ambassador, and my small conversations with all the alumni. I know that I will hold these wonderful memories for a lifetime. All the alumni had come together and even if they had not met some people in their year, they still conversed like old friends. They were all willing to help and ready to share their past with others. I feel blessed and honored to be given the opportunity to meet such a diverse and nice group of people. Unknowingly, they taught me the significance of a close community that identifies as a family.

As the alumni now prepare to leave, I have discovered that although their physical bodies will be gone, their spirits will always continue to carry the Lay Centre to continued success. They will never be completely gone from the Lay Centre as it was founded upon all of them. Likewise, the Lay Centre will always exist in the hearts of each and every one of the alumni because it has been such a big part of their lives.

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St. Peter’s Basilica; Rainbow flags in Rome; tree at the Anglican Church; Great Synagogue

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St Ignazio Church

Paige Pagan

6-28-16

What became a brief visit to a church on the way to the Anglican Center today turned into an eye-opening experience for me. The short visit to Sant’Ignazio church proved to be an opportunity for me to realize my many blessings. Often times we just pay attention to things we lack instead of appreciating the blessings the Lord has given us. We tend to cry out to the Lord for help when we are in need, but don’t thank him when he brings us out of the gutters. We accomplish all things through the Lord’s guidance and sometimes don’t realize how good he is to us everyday.

Sant’Ignazio was different from all the other churches we have seen so far because it combined religion and nature. Throughout the church there were numerous “Roots of Life” tree’s. I have always been a big fan of nature and particularly a tree hugger. So as soon as I stepped foot into that church full of blown-bronze tree’s, I felt at peace not only with myself, but with my surroundings. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to see every tree and read it’s meaning, but the one’s that I did were so powerful. The apple tree was the tree of knowledge and symbolized that those who care for and love it will bear good fruits. My interpretation of this tree was that the Lord has created this beautiful world for us that we must care for and not destroy which is also reflected in the book of Genesis. The chestnut tree was the tree of generosity which symbolized branches of excellence and treasure. This tree was the most beautiful as it seemed to be highlighted the most. I interpreted this tree as showing that the Lord has provided his children with many blessings including his only son to die for our sins. The Fig tree was the tree of hospitality. This tree symbolized fertility, knowledge, joy, and pacification. The fig tree had long branches that seemed to be all interconnected somehow. I associated this observation with a meaning that we are all God’s children, therefore we should all be humble to one another. These three tree’s were the main one’s that stood out to me and caught my attention. Even though the church had more tree’s that I wanted to view, we were only there for a few minutes. I plan on revisiting Sant’Ignazio on my own so I can finish viewing and interpreting my own meaning of all the tree’s there. I liked that all the tree’s symbolized something different but they all related to something about religion. They were all such beautiful illuminating sights, each radiating strong messages. The tree’s also brought me back to my childhood and made me think of a picture book I used to read. The book was called “The Giving Tree” by Shel Silverstein and it was about a tree who loved a boy. In childhood the boy loved and cared for the tree but as he grew older all he did was keep taking from the tree until it was a stump and had nothing else to give. The tree’s shown in Sant’Ignazio showed different pieces of God’s love for us and how we can easily take advantage of it. As a result of these tree’s I left Sant’Ignazio in good spirits thanking God for all he has given me and appreciating the many opportunities he bestows upon me.