Blog 11

Italy outstrips its reputation.

I sit on a lounge chair perched on a grassy precipice, overlooking the Umbrian countryside. In the distance stands a basilica, its imposing dome reaching at least seventy metres into the sky. Despite this, the impressive building is dwarfed by the hills behind, creating the effect of a massive natural amphitheatre. If I crane my neck around to look behind me, I see the pale orange buildings of Assisi, ringing the hillside. This is where St Francis lived, heard the call of God, died and is now venerated in countless places. The impressive basilica that houses his remains sits on the far edge of the hilltop, looking for all the world like a gigantic pier, stretching out to the world.

St Francis is renowned outside the church for seeing the good and beauty in the natural world. As I walked through the olive groves up to the town proper today, small flocks of little birds tumbled through the air and dived through the treetops. St Francis could not have helped but see God in them. Whether or not he managed to preach sermons to them as some biographers would suggest is up to someone else to decide.

It is always a minor disappointment when one enters the basilicas built for particular saints or on special sites. The buildings are spectacular but they fail to grasp the essence of the person. For example, how would one design a massive testament to poverty and simplicity, as the church has tried to in the shrine to St Francis? Sure the buildings are stunning, but he lived in a cave. Tomorrow I go in search of the caves. So far I have been moved in far greater ways by the humility of the saints than by the size of our testaments. I wonder when we will learn.

My journey to Assisi started in the Cinque Terre, or 'five lands'. These are five small villages built precariously close (or overhanging) cliff tops along a breathtakingly spectacular coastline of blue sea and steep vineyard covered hills. The specialities of the region are wine and anchovies, fresh from the ocean. Both were amazing. Until fairly recently, the only way to get between the towns was by foot. There are pictures everywhere of village women carrying huge baskets of grapes and fish over the rocky hills to market. We emulated their feat sans grapes by walking the length of the five towns. It took us about five hours plus a stop for anchovies and gelato.

From the Cinque Terre, I travelled through Pisa (one leaning tower) and onto Rome. Rome is quite simply awesome. Not in the teenage 'Twilight is so awesome' way, but in the 'I am actually awestruck' way. You have all heard of the landmarks, but the feeling of being amongst such gratuitous artistic grandeur is quite intimidating. The city has certainly benefited from being the centre of two seriously rich and influential empires. The result is a city that seems to grow monuments like a fruit tree grows oranges.

It was wonderful to visit the Vatican and feel overcome by the size of this monument to Christ, but once again – he was born in a barn! That said, our God self humbled and I guess this is our way of raising the profile again. Just don't think about where the money came from. Matt Maher has a song in which he calls us to 'lift high the banner of the cross' and as I listened to it in St Peter's square I looked up to the heights of the dome and thought 'I wonder if that is high enough?' Oh, the Sistine Chapel really is that good. Top job on the paintwork ninja turtle.

Onwards and upwards. Where to next? Perhaps some Greek islands I think... but who knows. I am certainly finding time to think, pray and discern.

Note: I went to the caves. They were stunning – indescribably beautiful and serene. It was hard for me to turn my back and walk away. They were two hour's hike up the nearby mountain, but the view was spectacular all the way. I think St Francis would eschew his basilica for the sanctity of this mountain if he were to return.

Note: I need more synonyms for spectacular. Any help?