Israel Day 1: THE Mount Carmel

As if it wasn’t amazing enough to have our first port visit in Italy, just the week after, we pulled into Haifa, Israel!  That’s right, Israel!  The Holy Land!  Haifa is a port city in the north of Israel, and is home to Mount Carmel…yes, THE Mount Carmel.  Originally “famous” for being the place the prophet Elijah chose to live, it is also the founding place of the Carmelite Order.  Hermits began dwelling in the cave of the prophet Elijah, and they eventually organized themselves into a religious order—the Carmelites—founded on Mount Carmel.  Their founding monastery is at the top of the mountain, at the north point, overlooking the water, and is called Stella Maris, Star of the Sea.

That being said, can you guess where I went first?  After mooring the ship and getting things squared away, we were given liberty around midday.  My same group from Rome and I headed out to see the city, stopped for some great pictures overlooking the Mediterranean from atop Mount Carmel, and headed first to Stella Maris Monastery, home of the Basilica of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel.  It’s a beautiful site, including mosaics, paintings, and marble inlays, depicting the great moments and saints of the Carmelite Order.  It was quite funny to see things written in English, Hebrew, Arabic, and Latin, all around the basilica!  The altar is built over the site of the cave of the prophet Elijah, with a big statue of Our Lady holding the scapular behind the altar.  It was perfect for them to choose Our Lady, Star of the Sea as their patroness—the view of the sea is stunning from the front of the basilica!  Prayed for all you little Carmelites out there, (especially you, Maria!) and got myself a new scapular—from the source!  J

Next, we took a cable car down the mountain, for more great views of Haifa and the Mediterranean.  We headed to the next site, thought to be another one of Elijah’s caves, which seemed to be the Jewish center of devotion for this city.  It was a busy place with many Jewish pilgrims!  Feeling a little out of place, we came and went a bit quickly.  Hot and hungry, we headed to an area known as the German Colony, which was settled by German immigrants in the 19^th/20^th centuries.  Found a great place to eat and had as much Middle Eastern food and WiFi as we could want!  It was a great day…with the best yet to come!

Italy Day 4: To the Monastery!

I arose on day 4 just a few hours after getting back to the ship (at 2:13am, remember?!) and though still tired, my spirits were high.  Today was the day for our community relations project (aka COMREL); ships often set up a COMREL project during a port visit to foster goodwill with the local community and allow sailors an opportunity to give back (and an alternative to going out and drinking).  Our command Chaplain set up a great opportunity to visit the Abbey of San Vincenzo, a Benedictine Monastery in central Italy.

We left at 8am with about 20 sailors and had a nice drive through the country and into the hills of the Mainarde Mountains.  As we left, Chaps explained some history of the monastery and I explained a little bit about the Benedictines and the monastic life.  J  As we arrived at the monastery, we were met by two American families stationed in Naples who often visit to help the nuns there, and were then welcomed in by Mother Miriam and Mother Agnes and the two other nuns of the monastery.  Much to our surprise, Mother Miriam spoke excellent English, because she is American!  We quickly learned the story.

The Abbey was founded in 703 A.D. by three Beneventan monks, who built the monastery on the ruins of a 5^th century Roman oratory dedicated to the Spanish martyr St. Vincent.  Within a century, it became one of the largest in Europe.  In 881, the Saracens attacked the monastery, burning it to the ground and leaving 900 monks dead—the survivors fled to Capua.  In 914, the community returned to the site and restored the monastery, and in the 12^th century, it was moved brick by brick across the nearby river.  Napoleonic suppression in the 17^th-18^th centuries ceased any further restorations, and in 1942 it was ceded to the Abbey of Montecassino.  In 1990, Mother Miriam and Mother Agnes were invited from the United States to found a community at this site to restore monastic life to this incredibly historic place.

After the warm introduction and history lesson, we got to work!  A few sailors manned the weed-eaters and cleared out a brush area.  Another group assisted with hay bailing; another with the herb garden; a few to help sand down and re-stain the siding to a part of the house.  The weather was incredible; much cooler up in the mountains compared to the coast!  A few of the monastery’s dogs wandered around and served as immediate friends to our sailors.  I ended up sitting down with Mother Miriam and having a wonderful talk with her.  I shared a bit of my story and she shared hers.  She entered the Benedictines at the age of 18 (in the 1950s!), after breaking off an engagement with a fine young man.  Religious life had been in her mind and heart, and she finally had to just make a choice.  She did, and said she has never looked back, and feels freer than she could have ever dreamed.  God is so good to me, to put these events and people in my life!  He certainly knows what He is doing.  And, it is great to have a new friend in Italy!

The day was sadly over too quickly.  Our sailors had a great time and loved the opportunity to serve and experience the nuns and the monastery.  Mother kept thanking us, assuring us that we were now a part of their history.  Beautiful!

If any of you are interested in the Benedictine way of life, this is a place you want to check out!  They also have opportunities for guests to spend a week of retreat, accommodating up to a small family in their guest house.  They will also host longer stays for young women who are discerning their next step in life, by entering into the Benedictine life of prayer and work as a means to aid in discernment.

After getting back to the ship, I was assigned to the shore patrol for the evening.  Having my first chance to explore Naples, I had my last bit of real pizza and enjoyed walking along the waterfront.  After all of the crew was accounted for, we headed back to the ship and got some sleep before getting underway and heading back out to sea the next day!  Ciao, Italia!  Hope to see you again soon.

Italy Day 3: Running through Rome

Day two in Rome began as my alarm went off at about 7am…after only going to sleep at 3am!  My body felt like it got hit by a bus, my feet were still sore as can be, and my blisters were quite red, but I began to stir my friends with phone calls to each of their rooms.  We’d intended on getting up early (even knowing it would be tough to do so!) so that we could try to beat the lines to the Vatican Museum.  After a valiant attempt to get my buddies up, I opened the window to let in some of the light of the day.  I heard a mighty “Bongiorno!” of my friend screaming out the window of his room…only in Rome?  J

We enjoyed a simple Italian breakfast at the hotel and headed out to The Vatican.  Good morning, St. Peter’s Square!  By the time we crossed the square, the line was already formed for the Vatican Museum, but it moved pretty well.  We did our best to be charitable to the nagging tour salesman, who are certainly resilient!  I kept looking at the clock, nervous about how long we’d actually have in the museum, because I had two tickets to the Scavi tour (excavations underneath St. Peter’s Basilica).  By the time we made it into the museum, I only had about an hour.  Sadly, I spent most of that time running (sometimes literally!) to be able to at least catch a glimpse of the Sistine Chapel.  Wow, what a sight.  I imagined it would be brighter inside, but maybe it just depends on the time of day.  As I stood there, looking up and all around, all I could think about was the history of that place, the Cardinals who’d been in this room during so many conclaves, the dwelling of the Holy Spirit here as the Vicar of Christ was chosen.  Praise God.

One of my friends and I scurried along, though, making our way out of the Sistine Chapel and the Vatican Museum to get to our Scavi tour, which started at 11:30am.  We got to access what seemed like an “exclusive” section of Vatican City (since we had to pass through some of the Swiss Guards!) to wait for the tour to start.  Our tour guide was a young American woman from Alaska, and she led us on an incredible tour of the excavations underneath St. Peter’s, which included the ancient necropolis that once stood there, including the burial site of St. Peter.  Really stunning, century after century built on top of it, and it is still there.  Highly recommend you go on this tour if you go to Rome, but you have to get tickets at least a few days in advance!

We met back up with the rest of the group and hopped on the Metro to the Coliseum.  A few headed inside to take the tour—I was content with taking photos from the outside, as I was determined to make it to Mass at some point during my Rome visit!  So a friend and I wandered towards St. John Lateran.  Along the way, we unexpectedly stumbled across the Basilica of San Clemente, run by Irish Dominican Friars.  I quickly realized that I’d seen the beautiful mosaic above the altar there before—it had been featured in Fr. Robert Barron’s “Catholicism,” in the episode about the Mystical Body of Christ.  The mosaic shows an elaborate series of vines and roots expanding out from the base of a crucifix, with different saints pictured at the various ends of the vines.  A very cool and random discovery!  Anyway, we made it to St. John Lateran, home of the seat of the Bishop of Rome, and made it to the evening daily Mass—in Italiano!  Have I mentioned lately that I love being Catholic?  I can go anywhere in the world and hear the same Mass readings and experience the same Mass; language is no barrier for the unity of the Mystical Body of Christ! 

Hungry to enjoy our last meal in Rome, we headed to Piazza Navona (where we originally wanted to go the night before), passing the Pantheon along the way, though it was already closed.  The Piazza was packed, and is home to a beautiful fountain, as well as the Church of St. Agnes!  Sadly, the church was already closed for the day, so I wasn’t able to go inside.  Instead, I said a brief prayer outside its gates and explained her story to my friends.  Our meal was delicious, of course! 

As we sat there at the restaurant, I kept looking at my watch, and started to get a little nervous about how fast time was going by.  We still needed to go back to our hotel near St. Peter’s to get our bags, get to Roma Termini, get on a train back to Naples, and make in on the ship, all by 2am.  It was already 8pm and we hadn’t nearly finished our meal.  My friends all comforted me, as we sort of recalled seeing the train schedule and believed there to be a train from Rome to Naples that left in the 11pm hour.  I was frantically searching for the timetables online to confirm that so I could eat the rest of my meal in peace, but couldn’t get anything to load properly, and as time went on, the others began to get nervous too.  We finished up the meal and “double timed” it back to the hotel for our bags.  After a couple of blocks, we actually started running.  Yes, literally running through the streets of Rome.  I’d say we ran at least a mile or more.  After grabbing our bags, we flagged down two taxis and asked them to rush us to the train station.  I felt like I was in a movie of a police chase the way we drove through Rome!

Arriving at Roma Termini around 10:50pm, we ran to the ticket machine only to find out that the next train to Naples wouldn’t be till 5am.  Wow.  We kept searching, thinking it was just a mistake—it wasn’t.  We’d missed the last train.  And now we were destined to get into big trouble for not making it back to the ship.  Desperate for a new plan, we tried to think of all our options.  Bus?  Taxi?  Could we even make it back in time that way?  One of my friends ended up talking to a guy who spoke English and asked about where we were going.  We told him we needed to get six people back to Naples by 2am.  Well, he gave us his price and we took it.  No, these were not taxis or a bus—just two random dudes with cars!  Yeah—in hindsight, a little sketchy.  We got on the road, split up three in each car.  Our drivers didn’t speak English too well.  I sat up in the front of my car, praying the rosary the whole time and trying to stay awake, to ensure we really were headed to Naples and not to some random place where who knows what could happen to us!  I kept watching time tick by.  It looked like we just could maybe make it back by 2am.  We’d already called the ship to tell them we had some issues getting back but were doing everything we could to get home on time.  We made several stops along the way, as the drivers kept arguing with each other about the best way to get to Naples, which ended up eating a lot of time.  Though we arrived safely, we stepped onboard the ship at 2:13am.  Late.  By thirteen minutes.  And yes, we did get in trouble, but not too bad.  What was a tense few hours is now a fantastic story!!

Rome adventure complete, but Italian adventure still not over!  Stay tuned for Day 4.

Italy Day 2: Rome Sweet Home

After turning over the duty responsibilities early in the morning, a few of my closest friends on the ship and I headed off to Napoli Centrale train station to start our Roman pilgrimage.  We were a bit confused on how to get out tickets and maneuver ourselves at the station, but we finally figured it out and hopped aboard the Frecciarossa Italian fast train, traveling at 300 km/h and getting us to Rome in only 70 min.  The beauty of the Italian countryside as we passed by continued to fuel my excitement for finally being in this part of the country.  Though I’d been to Italy before, I had been in Taranto, far to the south, and never close enough to make this sought-after pilgrimage to the Eternal City.

Arriving at Roma Termini, we stopped for a café (a much-needed jolt of caffeine!) and got on the Metro to St. Peter’s Square to get to our hotel.  We began walking south, seeing souvenir stores full of religious articles, getting approached by tour salesman left and right, and as we passed through the colonnades, I took in my first real experience of St. Peter’s Square.  My heart skipped a beat—I couldn’t believe I was here.  I’d spent my life seeing pictures and video of this place, so it felt familiar—but in no way did that prepare me for the reality of actually being there, standing in the Square on a very hot Roman day, taking in a deep breath of awe as I was finally “home.”  I looked around and couldn’t even say a word.  And this was only the beginning!

Continuing south, we checked into our hotel, a religious guest house run by the Trinitarian Fathers called Casa per Ferie at Santa Maria alle Fornaci.  Simple and affordable accommodations for our little group—everything you need and nothing you don’t!  We stopped for lunch at a nearby pizza bar and took advantage of the wifi hotspot to announce the beginning of our pilgrimage to dear ones back home.  After recharging there (particularly in the air conditioning!) we made our way back to St. Peter’s.  Though the line seemed long to get into the Basilica, it moved quickly, and before I knew it, we were stepping into that beautiful place and I was once again in awe.  I knew what to expect there, but actually being there is totally different.  We moved along the right side—the Pieta.  Then was the altar of Blessed John Paul II, where I had my first moment to stop and kneel and pray.  Blessed John Paul, pray for us, and may the generation you have raised do our part to propose Jesus Christ to the world.  We continued moving forward and I made a visit to the Adoration Chapel.  I entered that sacred space, present there before our Lord here in the heart of The Vatican, and was immediately moved to tears.  As they poured from my eyes, they mixed with the sweat covering my face as I held my head in my hands and gave our Lord thanks and praise for the gift of bringing me here.  Overwhelming.

My particularly memorable visits were before the statue of St. Philip Neri (for you, Fr. Baker!), Blessed John XXIII, St. Peter (yes I rubbed his foot!), St. Andrew the Apostle, St. Helena, a mosaic of St. Thomas Aquinas, the altar of St. Pius X, among so many others.  Everybody there is looking up.  Vertical worship—the way it is supposed to be!  As I made my way through all the niches and nooks of the Basilica, I was moved with the sense of unity and belonging in this One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church.  I was reminded immediately of St. Joan of Arc’s words, when questioned about her faith at her trial: “About Jesus Christ and the Church, I simply know this: they are one thing, and we shouldn’t complicate the matter.”  THIS is what it’s all about—tu es Petrus—and upon this rock, I will build My Church.  Maneuvering to the little gift shop, you pass by the list of the popes dating back to Peter himself—how can you not be moved, even convinced by that?  There’s a great story about Francis Cardinal George, who was pictured with a rather pensive look standing on the loggia of St. Peter’s following the election of Pope Benedict XVI in 2005.  When asked about this, he responded: “I was gazing over toward the Circus Maximus, toward the Palatine Hill where the Roman emperors once resided and reigned and looked down upon the persecutions of Christians, and I thought, ‘Where are their successors?  Where is the successor of Caesar Augustus?  Where is the successor of Marcus Aurelius?  And finally, who cares?  But if you want to see the successor of Peter, he is right next to me, smiling and waving at the crowds.’”  That was the reality of being there in Rome, particularly at St. Peter’s Basilica.  We went down to the Grotto and then made the pilgrim climb up to the cupola of the Basilica for the breathtaking view of Rome.  I’ll say, I think going down was scarier than coming up!  It was well worth the steps and the sweat. 

Exhausted and seeking a treat, we deemed it time for a water and gelato break, which was well-enjoyed by all.  Flavor?  Tiramisu, of course.  The gang was not sure what to do next, now that we’d met our first priority of St. Peter’s, so I mentioned my next priority of going to St. Cecilia at Trastevere.  We went by way of the Tiber, first walking down the Via della Conciliazione to Castel San Angelo (great memorial to St. Catherine of Siena near there, by the way!) and then turned right to walk along the river.  It was quite a good walk down to the Trastevere neighborhood, but with a pilgrim’s heart, you can do anything.  And luckily, my confreres were still fat and happy from our gelato stop.  We finally made it to St. Cecilia’s, a beautiful church built on top of the home of that great early virgin martyr Cecilia.  Once again, it was another place I’d seen many pictures of, but it was such a different feeling to actually be there.  We thankfully made it in right before they were going to close; got to see the main church as well as excavations and the crypt chapel below.  I spent some time in prayer before the main altar, which encases that beautiful statue of Cecilia’s martyrdom.  I will share with you some of the fruits of my prayer.  I’d been bringing some very specific intentions to all the places of this pilgrimage, but particularly here to St. Cecilia.  After offering my thanks to the Lord for bringing me here, I asked Cecilia for her prayers, and asked some specific questions to her about my future and what she thought about it all.  Her response, resonating deep within my heart, was this: I chose martyrdom.  What about you?  I wasn’t planning on sharing that in this medium, but I figure I’m not the only one who needs to hear that great advice.  May our hearts be immaculate, and we shall not be confounded.  Sancta Caecilia, ora pro nobis!

The trek back to our hotel was a bit daunting, because I got us lost—okay, maybe just “turned around.”  What I thought would be a “more direct route” back towards The Vatican proved to be a bit confusing, as we made our way through neighborhoods and up and back down a huge hill. (I don’t even know what it was called!)  Though my temperament was causing me to stress about getting us turned around, my friends were totally at peace and enjoying the journey.  It’s not a pilgrimage without things like this!  And, as I discovered upon getting back to the hotel, it’s not a pilgrimage without a massive amount of blisters--I think it’s time to retire my old Chacos! 

Starving and ready for a nice meal and good wine, one of my friends intended on leading us to Piazza Navona for a dinner spot.  We didn’t make it there before our hunger took control, and we stopped at a restaurant called Sangallo in an off-the-beaten-path area, certainly somewhere near Piazza Navona.  We went with the 8-course meal, chef’s choice, with wine pairings.  Three hours and lots of laughs later, we had full bellies and made our way home.  Walking back, we stopped by St. Peter’s Square for the nighttime view—once again, stunning.  Blame it on the experiences of the day or blame it on the wine (probably both!), but a protestant among our group began asking some of those questions that you can only start to ask yourself after seeing a place like The Vatican for the first time, as we sat there in the early hours of the new day at St. Peter’s Square.  Praise God!  We made it back to our hotel and after an amazing shower, fell asleep easily after a day well-lived.

Italy Day 1: On Duty

I pulled the ship into Naples as the Conning Officer, the officer who gives the commands for steering and shiphanding.  Normally a position for a very junior new officer, the “deck was stacked” for this particular evolution due to the challenging way we’d be mooring in the Port of Napoli: a Mediterranean Moor.  Normally, we moor the ship alongside a pier, longways, with either the port or starboard side of the ship along the quay wall or pier.  In a Mediterranean Moor (you guessed it—common in the Mediterranean), the ship’s stern moors to the quay wall or pier and two anchors at the bow keep the bow from swinging.  I’d never done it before, but after a good briefing on our plan of action and a little help from two tugs, we moored safely in Italy.

That first day in port I was on duty, preventing me from exploring the little Italian town, so I had to look longingly at the hillside of Naples, with Mount Vesuvius in the hazy background, and stayed on the ship making my final preparations for my pilgrimage up to Rome.  As if my excitement wasn’t consolation enough, some of our fellow officers headed out into town and picked up a few authentic Napoli pizzas for our enjoyment.  My favorite was the “white pizza” covered in arugula and prosciutto.  Delicious--and a taste of what was to come!

My time in Italy...coming soon!

Though I’m almost still in disbelief that it wasn’t all a dream, I have quite a bit to post about our recent port visit to Italy, which included an incredible 48-hour pilgrimage to Rome.  Once I can collect my photos and gather my thoughts, I’ll share a taste of some of the graces of my time in the Eternal City!

And a quote for the day:  “I tell you that you have less to suffer in following the Cross than in serving the world and its pleasures.”  ~St. John Vianney