hell is real

I have been in Rome for over six weeks. That is a seriously good chunk of time. Noah was stuck on that crowded arc for less time than this! In other words, a lot happens in six weeks. However, despite all this time, I had yet to see the Sistine Chapel. I live 15 minutes away from it but hadn’t bothered to pay the small fee to go to the Vatican Museums to see it.

Lucky for me (and my education and bank account), there is no entrance charge to the Museums on the last Sunday of every month. Since I was off traveling elsewhere in Italy on the last Sunday of January, I figured I’d take advantage of it this time around.

Well, turns out the Vatican Museums are massive. No, really, they are colossal. I spent about an hour in the Sistine Chapel alone. There is no way I could do justice writing about the complete experience. But, I will do my best to write about The Last Judgment, Michelangelo’s fresco on the Chapel wall behind the alter.

The Last Judgement by Michelangelo is painted on the wall of the Sistine Chapel. Even if the story this fresco tells is extreme, it is so important to keep this perspective in mind. Josemaria Escriva wrote, "[t]here is a hell. A trite enough statement, you think. I will repeat it, then: there is a hell! Echo it, at the right moment, in the ears of one friend, and another, and another."

I’m sure you are all learned people and know about this grand piece of artwork. But, in case you have forgotten, Michelangelo painted it between 1536 and 1541. If your math skills are deteriorating with your ability to recall art history: that would be six years that it took him to paint the wall. Click here for some more background information and to see what the Vatican Museum’s website has to say about the piece.

When first looking at the fresco, one of the most notable characteristics is the vibrant colors throughout the whole painting. Also, I just could not look away due to its sheer size! According to trusty Wikipedia, the work is 13.7 by 12 meters. However, attention to detail is not lost in the grandiose piece. Michelangelo had obviously painted every person with painstaking attention to each element of the body, all the way down to the last muscle. And, it isn’t just a sea of people heading to Heaven or Hell; there are elements that reveal stories of the figures. Possibly the most famous is St Bartholomew holding human skin, as he is known to have been flayed, then crucified. Also, as I learned from my audio guide at the museum, many critics say the skin is Michelangelo’s self-portrait.

Still, the part of the painting that kept drawing my eyes was the man pulling up two souls with Rosary beads. The Last Judgment is probably the most terrifying piece of art I’ve seen. It’s the end of the world, literally. God is righteously judging mankind. In life, judging a person is always held off. After all, ‘only God can judge.’ Well, Christ has come again, and there is indeed judgment to go around. As NSFTM says, “hell is real.” Yet, amidst this seriously frightening reality, there is so much beauty in The Last Judgment, because salvation for many is imminently approaching. It is a challenge to the viewer to change how one is living now, since he or she, unlike those represented in the fresco, still has time. Pope Benedict XVI said “the dramatic scene portrayed in this fresco also places before our eyes the risk of man’s definitive fall, a risk that threatens to engulf him whenever he allows himself to be led astray by the forces of evil. So the fresco issues a strong prophetic cry against evil, against every form of injustice.”

The importance of prayer is manifested clearly through the wall of the Chapel while gazing at the Rosary portion of the image. “Certain souls’ salvation depends on my free decision to say yes to God’s plan,” says the National Catholic Register’s “Guide to the Rosary” as one point for meditation. It is not good enough to hold our hope for Heaven inside of us—we must answer our call to apostolate and bring others to Christ just like the man with the Rosary does in The Last Judgment.

A man pulls two people up into salvation using Rosary beads. This, my favorite part of The Last Judgement, reminds mankind of the effectiveness of prayer.

It is madness that it took me so long to make my way to the Vatican Museums. You can bet that I will be making another trip there. Though, I may just be waiting until the last Sunday of the month to do so. Good art is good art; free is still free.

lily

There are many things that delight: getting a letter in the mail, acing an exam without studying, running a PR. But, above delightful things, there are the uncompromisingly wonderful things, like the piece of news you receive and just can’t stop thinking about.

Well, about two weeks ago, I learned the sex of my brother’s kid. She is still inside her mother, but we know she is a girl! (And, for the record, her existence has allowed girls to now beat boys in number in my family, finally!!!)

My brother, Math, and his wife, Jana, really stress the importance of considering their child to already be in existence. A baby inside the womb is fully human; she has a beating heart, kicks Jana and, as we now know, has female parts. When a baby is born, Math explained, it isn’t a surprise. There is no “if it is a girl…” People act as if it is such a mystery, Math said, as if the baby growing in them is some foreign thing and then comes out human. However, the baby is one or the other: boy or girl. You just may not have the knowledge yet. As Jana wrote to me, “It’s crazy that we've had a baby girl this whole time, and only God knew it!”

A new ultrasound of my niece, Math & Jana's baby, who has been living and growing for about six months. She will be ready to come out and see the world at the end of May.

So, in full pro-life spirits, Math and Jana decided to discover the sex and name the baby; her name is Lillian, the same as my grandmother’s. Math and Jana are not going to be parents. They are currently Lily's parents. Likewise, I am currently, and have been since her conception, Lily’s aunt. All that has changed now is we can pray for Lily by name.

Math & Jana sporting some sweet homemade sweatshirts they made during the snowstorms as they are the proud parents of Lily, (see the above ultrasound). They decided to name her as soon as they found out her sex, showing that Lily is a person even if she hasn't been born yet.

i see snow

Lately, the thoughts occupying most of my brain space all relate to the intense snowfalls back home. For the last week, I’ve been constantly complaining about how badly I wish to be in Virginia for the snow. I mean, over 30 inches, how incredible! Catherine and I kept flipping though Facebook photos of all the wintery fun everybody seems to be having; that certainly didn’t help our negative-Nancy attitudes.

However, to my biggest delight, I woke up this morning to snow in Rome! This is no joke. There were huge, white flakes outside my window. I happily watched the snow all morning while on the bus and in class. I didn’t get to be outside for much of it, but I’ll take what I can get.

Above, snow falls as I walked to the bus stop this morning. This was the first substantial snow in Rome in over 20 years. Below, a nun heads towards St. Peter's in an AP photo from from guardian.uk.co (click here for more professional photos of the Roman snowfall).

Catherine’s 20th birthday is also today! Happy birthday, honey; I’m pretty sure this was God’s gift to you. He knew of our homesick moods and helped lift our spirits ever so subtly.

After all, the last time it even snowed in Rome was in 2005. But really, today’s snow was the biggest in over 20 years, since 1986. Honestly, today’s was baby snow. I can’t really imagine how minor the 2005 snow was. Nevertheless, IT SNOWED IN ROME TODAY, and I am fully satisfied with this fact. And, since God granted me this small blessing, for the next three months I’ll take Rome’s wonder over any Fairfax blizzard. To quote Relient K, “never underestimate my Jesus.” He saved the world already, and with the help of His Father, gives us plenty of little joys, we just have to be looking in the right place.

Above, the snow-covered Lemon Tree

Courtyard at John Cabot. Today Rome

became a mini winter wonderland.

For all those at home, I hope you are enjoying the crazy weather. Please, make a snow angel for me.

Left, snow was actually accumulating in Rome and stuck to cars, trees, buildings, or here, Vespas. It was a sweet birthday surprise for Catherine to wake up to. While I was stuck at class, she was lucky enough to have a snowball fight on the way to the grocery store.

superbowl sunday: go saints & pro-lifers

Even from Rome I watched the Superbowl (until the third quarter when I went home because it was like 3 am Rome time). HOORAY, SAINTS! Unfortunately for me, ESPN was playing. So, I did not get to benefit from the commercials. Even as non-controversial as they ended up, it would have been nice to see them airing in real time.

However, upon researching some of the commercials via YouTube, I smiled to discover THREE pro-life ads: Tim Tebow, Dove and Google.

In regards to the Tebow ad, everyone recognizes how absurd Terry O’Neil, president of the National Organization for Women, sounds saying, “I am blown away at the celebration of the violence against women in it. That’s what comes across to me even more strongly than the anti-abortion message. I myself am a survivor of domestic violence, and I don’t find it charming. I think CBS should be ashamed of itself.” Focus on the Family had a quiet but appropriate approach; O’Neil needs a better complaint.

In regards to the Dove commercial, it’s simultaneously splendid and strange that a soap company recognizes at what stage life begins—conception!—when our own President cannot.

And, lastly, in regards to the Google ad, I am unashamed to admit that this ad tapped into my most girly of emotions, leaving me looking up tickets to Paris and thinking: that’s too cute!!

But, maybe there is something else there that makes the ad so appealing? As Operation Rescue’s Troy Newman writes in a post explaining the ad’s pro-life nature, “the Google ad is borne of a society that is tired of pushing the morality envelope… Boys and girls will fall in love, get married, and have a baby, which is the way God designed it.”

He is entirely correct; the Google ad subtly points to a natural order, something modernity loves ignoring and rearranging. Don’t misunderstand, it isn’t that marriage and babies are the only way to live out one’s calling, just that such familial service is the normal vocation. The connection of marriage yielding families, specifically families with babies, was phenomenally subtle in the ad, but infinitely strong.

Now, I feel like I should Google something in honor of their stellar ad.

& if yr still interested...

to read Catherine's related post about the Tebow ad, click here.

to read Jill Stanek's related post about the Dove & Google ads, click here.

to read Bryan Kemper's related post about the commercials and feminist backlash, click here.

i met our Mother in rome

For those of you who find North American Catholicism underemphasizing the role of the Virgin Mary in the Church, or who are put off by the extreme emphasis of Central and South American Catholicism (Myles, this is you), you need to visit ROMA, the perfect balance of all that is Mary.

Rome is constantly reminding passersby of Mary’s love and faith with the Marian art that is all throughout the city—regardless of being near the Vatican. But, not without still remembering Christ’s sacrifice and His own role as Eternal High Priest. Before I came to Rome, I knew Mary was wonderful and thought I had enough respect for her. I knew who she was; I liked the Rosary; I thought that was enough. But, until I reflect and pray sincerely and consistently on the subject, I will never begin to comprehend the beauty of the Virgin Mary.

Mary humbly lived within a world post the fall in the garden, yet practiced obedience to God in such a way that she was still worthy of that garden. She is the New Eve, whose decision is upon which our salvation rests. It’s about time a lot of Christians turn towards our Mother, who constantly turned towards God. Ad Christum per Mariam—to Christ through Mary. It’s about time I meet Mary, for real, and what better a place than Rome?

Above, Marian Statue in Santa Maria Del Carmelo, a Church about two blocks from St. Peter's Basilica, splendidly reveals to us her importance in the Church as the Queen of Heaven. And below, a Marian statue sits to side of the alter in the Chiesa del Sacro Cuore del Suffragio (Church of the Sacred Heart of Suffering). Mary is almost looking at the tabernacle, keeping our focus on the Eucharist and reminding us of Christ.

But, Mary isn't just in the churches!! Above, two pieces of artwork of Mary and Child are displayed around Rome. The left piece (a mosaic, I believe) is located above an archway which my bus passes through in transit to and from school, and the right (a painting, I believe) is located near the Piazza del Populo. They are both subtle reminders that much of Rome's beauty is religiously founded. Below, an icon of Mary sits with the first lines of the Hail Mary inscribed above it: Hail Mary, full of grace.

Above, a statue of Mary, left, towers above everything in the Piazza Mignanelli, right next to the Piazza di Spagna. This statue is atop of the column of the Immaculate Conception, which was placed here a few years after the Immaculate Conception became dogma. According to Pope Benedict XVI, in describing this statue, "Mary stands high, on guard over Rome" (read a bit more about the column, BXVI & last year's Feast of the Immaculate Conception here). The inscription at the base of the column can be seen in the photo to the right. Below, a statue of Mary stands safely in the corner of a courtyard at my school, John Cabot University, (a secular American university in Rome).

The Memorare

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thine intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my mother; to thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me.

Amen.

when in rome... speak as the romans speak, in ITALIAN

There’s nothing quite like going to a class for the first time. There’s nothing quite like stepping into a new school for the first time. There’s also nothing quite like flying into a new country for the first time. New experiences are weird. They are exciting. They are enjoyable. They are anxiety invoking and uncomfortable. They are butterflies-in-you-stomach raising.

Last week, I was able to gather up all these experiences, savor them and put them all under my belt as I began studying Italian (new class) at a study abroad program (new school, JCU) in Rome (new city in a new country). When I first signed up for classes here, I signed up for an introductory Italian course because it seemed rude not to. I mean, going to another county and demanding they speak my language, such an American thing to do; I was above that. I planned to be a polite traveler. Yet, I wasn’t respectful enough to sign up for Italian because I was interested in the culture.

When I finally arrived in Rome and began to get acquainted with the city, I witnessed the beauty of everything. Sure, Rome is big and dirty and confusing. But, the architecture is astonishing, the history abundant and the Catholic culture apparent—you cannot walk but 100 meters without seeing either a priest, nun or seminarian.

Catherine and me in front of the Trevi Fountain on one of our first nights in Rome. This city is full of architectural and historical gems, famous like the Trevi, but obscure and hidden ones as well, just waiting to be sought after.

Everything was beautiful, but the language, that is. Even though getting around with English and three Italian words I knew—ciao, grazie, and sì—is entirely doable, it is sometimes difficult to communicate, and always exhausting. I have four years of Spanish to work with, so I can read and understand it fairly well; responding is a whole other cup of tea. I began to realize that taking Italian wasn’t just polite, but would allow me to look ever so slightly less idiotic when ordering gelato or buying a bus ticket. Still, that attitude was totally ignorant.

Orientation passed, I became more familiar with my neighborhood, the bus system and this Roman world I entered. Classes began. When I went to Italian the first week, I wasn’t expecting much. I figured it would be like any language class I’ve taken in the past. But, learning the language of the country you are visiting currently is entirely different. My professor, Valentina, was both adorably Italian and deeply challenging. She told us, “if I go to America, I do not expect you to speak Italian for me.” And, it should be the same for me in Roma.

Valentina warned the class not make Italy a new America or our experience in Rome just an Italian version of America. “I know Italy is a magical land of alcohol, and you cannot drink in the States,” she said. But, she explained that it was so much more than that. She encouraged us to drink and enjoy ourselves, but to “open our eyes” to what the city had to offer. If we didn’t, she warned, “you are wasting four months of your life… and a lot of money.”

Not that English isn’t a great language, spreading across the globe more rapidly than ever—knowing English is definitely a powerful academic tool. But, while I am here I need to study Italian, and not because it is more convenient or less embarrassing, but because it is a gorgeous language that has a lot to offer.

An Italian man declared to me, “you’re studying in the best city in the world!” I laughed at the time, but I’m seriously starting to realize the truth in that.

On the way to my apartment from class, I stopped by the Vatican and snapped some photos. While he crossed St. Peter's Square, and cute Italian man stopped and offered to take one for me. When I told him I was visiting for a whole semester abroad, it was as he shot this picture that he said, "you're studying in the best city in the world!"

I have begun to open my eyes to what Roma, Italia is all about.

Ciao. A presto.

the cranberries @ the electric factory - bringing 20 years of music full circle

Dolores O’Riordan joined The Cranberries in the year of my birth. With assistance from my brothers, their first album, “Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We" was one of the first CDs. And, through the purchase of “No Need to Argue,” from my local used Record store (Record & Tape Exchange on Main Street), they quickly became my favorite band. When I was young I had dreams of seeing The Cranberries live, waking up and imagining what they would say and do on stage. But, they went on hiatus when I was just 13 years old—the outcome being I would never see them in concert.

But, in 2007, Dolores released a solo album. She toured that summer and was set to play at the 9:30 Club, but I could not get away from my summer job at camp, and even later found out that the show had been canceled anyway because of a family emergency. Alas, it seemed like it was never meant to be.

Until, in 2009, The Cranberries announced they we GETTING BACK TOGETHER. And, they were performing a North America Tour!! Of course, fate again stepped in when a class conflicted with almost every tour date that was reasonable for me to attend. Thankfully, Tuesday, November 17 was clear; Sara, my roommate, and I immediately bought tickets.

Sara and I driving to Philly (Left) to see The Cranberries! On the way, we visited Joey Rampino (Below) at his seminary, Saint Charles, which is located right outside of the city. To read more about Joey, click here.

So, when the concert came around, Sara and I skipped our Tuesday classes and drove North to Philadelphia. After a quick visit and tour of St. Charles Seminary, where my friend Joey attends (it is beautiful, by the way), we jumped back into the car and winded our way through the confusing one-way streets of Philly. The Electric Factory was our destination, which we arrived at plenty early. After parking in an extremely sketch parking lot several blocks away, we were able to find standing room second row center. It was unreal.

Cranberries fans are a strange phenomenon. I thought it would be entirely a sea of older women trying to relive the ’90s. However, there was a fairly split population gender wise. Though, the crowd leaned more toward the older end of the age spectrum, Sara and I were obviously not the only college aged kids at the venue. They were also a fairly pleasant crowd. Other than the obnoxiously drunk, uncomfortably large, middle-aged man behind us who kept offering everybody drinks from his flask, we managed to make some friends. The most notable was the guy in front, slightly older than us who had listened to The Cranberries since their first release in 1993 and had seen them two times previous for their reunion tour. His other musical choices—all of which were quite dissimilar from The Cranberries’ female vocals and melodic Pop/Rock tunes— were what made him different. He was a metal head, listened to nothing else, except The Cranberries. Who knew that that demographic existed? Regardless, I was happy to speak with him about more obscure Cranberries’ releases, his interest in the band, and how the other shows went which he attended.

The opener, Griffin House, was a charming guy with an acoustic guitar and harmonica. He was enjoyable to listen to. His song, “The Guy That Says Goodbye” I’m sure made whatever girl he wrote it about cry; it was so sweet. But, it wasn’t the most creative or compelling act I’ve ever seen. His outfit was stellar, though, his white dress shoes, which he explained to have worn at his wedding, were outrageously excellent, but Griffin House’s music lacked something.

Bass player Mike Hogan and singer Dolores O'Riordan performing at the Electric Factory on November 17 2009. This concert was the 5th one of their reunion tour after being on hiatus since 2003.

My hands were literally shaking by the time bass player Mike Hogan, brother and guitarist Noel Hogan, and drummer Fergal Lawler, came out along with Denny DeMarchi, who I later found out played keyboard on Dolores’ solo albums. My heart beat faster and faster; and then, finally, Dolores came out yelling “Hello Philadelphia,” dancing across the stage in shiny black spandex, velcro silver hightops, and a loose cutoff brown shirt and then singing the lyrics to “How,” from their first album.

The Cranberries played 21 songs throughout the night, over half of which were from their first two albums, including “Linger,” “Daffodil Lament” and “Ode To My Family,” and none of which were from their last album, “Wake Up and Smell the Coffee.” Of course, from “To the Faithful Departed,” they played “Free to Decide,” which had the crowd singing along to almost every word. Dolores looked over at both Hogan brothers with a knowing smile during that one; they were obviously comfortable and so happy to be playing together again. They only played singles from “Bury the Hatchet,”—“Animal Instinct” and “Just My Imagination”—both of which were crowd pleasers, with Dolores pointing the mic into the audience more than just a few times. The band also decided to sprinkle several songs from her solo career into the performance including “Ordinary Day,” from “Are You Listening?”

My favorite Cranberries song, one of their shortest, “Salvation,” was a brief but intensely satisfying part of the concert. Dolores marched back and forth across the front of the stage, swinging her hips to the speedy snare hits and intimately leaning towards the audience as if telling us a secret, then pointing out the mic so everyone could tell her one back, “salvation is free.” Sara and I kept looking over at each other, confused if everything was actually real.

They followed “Salvation” up with “Ridiculous Thoughts” and “Zombie.” These back to back “No Need to Argue” hits concluded their regular set. “Ridiculous Thoughts” may have been Dolores’ best performed piece. She bagan singing while laying on the floor of the stage, then got up and flew around dancing. For “Zombie,” Dolores, Noel and Denny were all on guitar at certain points. Still, this didn’t stop Dolores from head banging, picking up the mic when she wasn’t playing and moving around stage with that dynamic energy that only Dolores O’Riordan has. The group’s clear lyrics of peace haven’t changed since their formation.

Dolores O'Riordan laying down at the start of "Ridiculous Thoughts." Luckily, we were standing in the second row, so Sara could snap this photo. Dolores drove the entire show with her dancing and eccentricities.

Their encore began with just Dolores and Denny onstage for “Lunatic,” from “No Baggage” and continued as the rest of the band came out for “Empty.” Fergal got to move to the front of the stage to play the hand drums for this song. Then, they played Dolores’ “The Journey,” one of her singles from her new album, “Even though this is not my favorite song from her solo career, it was performed in that beautiful Cranberries performance with Dolores’ beating heart at the center of the action. They finished off their concert with everybody singing along to “Dreams,” bringing the entire show full circle almost 20 years earlier to their first album and bringing the entire room to awe as the instruments came in and she softly sang the opening lines, “Oh my life is changing everyday in every possible way.”

Noel Hogan playing acoustic guitar (Left) and Fergal Lawler drumming. To see future concert dates click here.

When you see Dolores sing, you see her different faces. She can have a look of pure joy, clearly having a good time, and she has a serious face when she is singing something particularly emotional, grave or personal. But, she also has this face where you know she is focusing on nothing other than the music she is producing; she is possessed by the sounds and the moment. This look, in turn, posseses you.

Sara and I certainly relished the 90-minute set before travelling back to Williamsburg through the night, so Sara could take a test, (nothing more jolting than the reality of school). But, Dolores’ words from the concert will stick with us always as a reminder that it was REAL. During the middle of the set, Dolores crouched down and said “we will never get this moment back.” She is absolutely right, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing that I could.

…and who knows? Maybe I will. The Cranberries will be touring in Europe this Spring and playing a show in Milan while I’m in Italy. In the meantime, however, I’m satisfied with letting just this one concert linger in my memory for a while.