Showing posts with label Assisi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Assisi. Show all posts

Thursday, October 23, 2014

St. Francis Walks On Ahead....

In the last article we left off visiting the little chapel, the Porziuncula, near the town of Assisi. The two other primary sacred places we visited where the hillside caves of Eremo delle Carceri, sometimes pronounced L'Eremo, and, the church of Santa Chiara.

I went twice to L'Eremo. It's up the steep hillside of Mt. Subasio, accessed quite near the north gate of the town of Assisi (the gate whose road leads uphill towards the Ananda Center and Community). It's so high up that you look down on La Rocca, the stronghold and fort that towers over Assisi.

L'Eremo was one of the places for prayer and retreat that St. Francis and his brothers used. There are rock formations and mini-caves that the brothers used. The still existing dens are marked with signs showing which of the famous brothers used which cave. Now there's a complex of stone buildings, of course, but the whole area is saturated with vibrations of peace and light. It's heavily wooded but over time there are paths, but once off the mostly level main boulevard walking path, the paths down into the canyon and to the stone huts and caves are very real hiking paths.

It is incredibly peaceful there and much easier to meditate for long periods, uninterruptedly, than anywhere else. There are surprisingly many people who stroll the grounds as the place is famous but if you don't mind a few people walking past you while you are meditating (and you stay off the main, wide walking path), it's really worth it. Here, for this article, words fail to convey the intensity in meditation and the joy I felt there. I have some pictures, but they, too, fall rather short of the mark.

Let's simply say that for those who are serious about prayer and meditation, L'Eremo is a MUST.

This blog system is not picture friendly, so I'll just plop some down right here:

   

The other spiritual hotspot is the church, Santa Chiara. It has two distinct features: St. Clare's body lies "in state" there, and, the cross (originally from San Damiano) that "spoke" to Francis is displayed there. This church is normally crowded but if you're lucky you can hit a quiet moment. The line down to the tomb can long, hot, and slow and you get a few seconds to look at the body on display. If you step back out of the line you can stand there a few minutes to pray if you like, but you're likely to get bumped.

Upstairs in a side chapel hangs the special cross and it's easier to sit in a pew there and pray and meditate, though there's plenty of movement all around you. I enjoyed going there twice but I didn't stay very long though I certainly felt uplifted. I lucked out on my second visit and the place was virtually empty. I rushed downstairs and prayer before the body without being hassled. I prayed for the strength and purity of intention and resolution that Clare so obviously radiated and felt very uplifted.

Across the main plaza tourists frequently visit the ancient Minerva Temple from Roman times. It was long since converted into a church. I can't say there's any super-special vibration there but it certainly is beautiful, artistically-wise. I did sit and meditate for a few minutes and it is very peaceful in there. It was, of course, there during Francis' life and so I assume he prayed there, too.

Wandering the streets of Assisi is a trip in time and space itself. Enjoying a meal, a coffee, or a gelato along the ancient narrow cobblestone streets is well worth it. A few photos to share which include the Minerva Temple/Church inside and out.

    

I want now to share with you the inspiration felt at Ananda itself: high above the town of Assisi. When members of Ananda visit another Ananda community outside America (say, Italy or India) one discovers that even if we don't speak the same language, you feel instantly at home. The Temple of Light is where most meditations take place and we participated in various ones, plus a Sunday Service, plus Padma and I "officiated" at a marriage vow renewal ceremony for two of our pilgrim friends. Here one can meditate without the cross-currents of tourists and the vibrations of others, even in prayer, for the vibration of Catholicism is very strong in Italy. So here, at Ananda, we were truly at home and uplifted in the vibration of kriya yoga, Self-realization and our guru, Paramhansa Yogananda.

The absolute highlight, meditation-wise, however is the former home of Swami Kriyananda. It's about a kilometer from the main Ananda Il Refugio complex and just off the road along a tiny tree-lined lane. This is where he lived, sometimes many months at a time, and, where he died, April 21, 2013. In his bedroom and on his bed is the robe he was wearing the morning he left his body. His tiny meditation room is just off the bedroom, as is, of course the adjacent living room and dining room. It is all lovingly preserved the way it was on that day in April. He named his home, "Seva Kutir." This is Sanskrit and means roughly "A Home Dedicated to Divine Service."

I believe we had four meditations there. We'd take turns being in the bedroom or in the living room. It is here that the unique and heartfelt vibrations of our chosen spiritual path and line of preceptors can be felt most strongly and purely, especially in the form of calm, clear joy. Some pictures below:


Wednesday, October 22, 2014

St. Francis - Ahead of His Time, and Still Here!

Wednesday, October 8, we arrived by train from Florence to Bastia, one train stop short of the town of Assisi, Italy. Rented vans took us "up the hill:" around the outer periphery of the charming and beautiful town of Assisi, and out the "north gate" at the top of the town. The road, SS 444, winds its way up the hills that coalesce into a mountain, around and behind Mt. Subasio upon whose western flank the town of Assisi clings.

The terrain is eerily reminiscent of the Sierra Nevada foothills around Nevada City/Grass Valley, CA where the first Ananda community was established. Night was falling as we climbed higher and higher up the mountain. At the top, the road levels off, though still curving around, before descending the other side into another valley. Along the ridge, then, sits Ananda Assisi: a retreat center and intentional community, with affiliated businesses (both community and personal) and private homes strung along SS444 in both directions.

The central feature and gathering place for Ananda Assisi is the former hotel building, Il Refugio. Here guest registration takes place; a book and gift store exists, guest rooms on several floors, an outdoor cafe and gazebo, ancillary administration bungalows, and the main feature, though hidden from the road, is the Temple of Light where meditations and classes are held.

We arrived for a late dinner which is taken in silence until about half way through. Announcements are made in Italian, with some concessions made for groups our size for English speakers, and other languages (Russian and German, esp.) as required. Peruse, if you like, www.Ananda.it.

After dinner, our vans took us further along the road (what, less than one mile?), to our accommodations: a rented facility called Il Ritero ("the retreat"). On both sides of the main two story rock building, are strip-like hotel bungalows (four or five simple units in one "strip"). These housed most of us. They are clean and simple. Bathrooms there are curious: when you shower it wets the entire bathroom, toilet, bidet, sink, your stuff.....everything! Not sure why this cultural nuance, but it seems pervasive and tenacious, all reason and convenience aside.

Padma and I were housed in a lovely little duplex a few hundred yards from the main center and across the street. Two or three others were even closer in a large 3-story building named "Brindaban" (the name of the town in India where Krishna lived).

The next morning, Thursday, a weekly 3-hour meditation took place (and every week) beginning at 6 a.m. It's followed by breakfast in silence. Bread, toast, fruit, oatmeal, butter, peanut butter, and jam, with tea and coffee and milk, comprise the typical fare. We got pancakes that morning, as I recall, in addition!

The rolling hills of Umbria alternate forested areas with areas of cultivation and pasture. In the Fall, hunters emerge from towns in the region to hunt. Thing is, they bring their own birds in cages; let them loose, and then, in manly fashion, shoot them. Retrieved by their ever faithful hounds, they, no doubt, return home proudly displaying their courage and skills.











With or without seasonal hunters, the hills are alive with beauty and serenity. There can be no doubt that St. Francis and his band of brothers walked these hills chanting God's name. There is no doubt that this land is blessed by the descent of grace into human form. It lingers in the soft breezes, in the warm sunshine, in the flashes of lightening and the crashing of  thunder, in the powder blue and happy yellow flowers that spring up on their own all around, and in the deep silence of the still night air.

In May, red poppies appear and populate fields throughout the region. Quaint farmhouses dot the hills, with pretty little gardens and stately trees in attendance. Broad panoramas of hills and distant mountains leap out at you as you round a turn in the country road that hugs the hillsides lovingly.

Our first outing was to the giant Basilica of St. Francis which dominates the western end of the small town. A sharp contrast to Francis' simplicity and lifestyle, it nonetheless is a focal point of devotion for millions.
Three stories beneath its frescoed ceiling is Francis' tomb, and that of several of his closest brothers. It's been called into question whether his body is there, but I find that kind of doubting unhelpful. If for no other reason than the devotion of millions, I found meditating there in the pews very peaceful and uplifting.

We had an official tour given by a Franciscan priest from New Jersey. We used the headsets that tourists and their guides use. His humor was extremely irreverent but even he could not obfuscate the spiritual vibration of the relics, art, and sanctity of the place. It was interesting that he wove his theology into his patter but used phrases like "making good decisions" in life (ergo, going to heaven) and "finding happiness!"

By pre-arrangement, he took us outside the public areas and into the rooms of St. Joseph of Cupertino. Joseph was a simple, humble and, I believe, all but illiterate priest who lived about a century after Francis. His story is quite remarkable and his claim to fame is the fact that he often was seen, publicly and by crowds, to levitate in ecstasy while attempting to "say" Mass. But with our intellectual tour guide, our stay there was rather limited. We sang a song together and had a few moments of silence. [Many years ago, Padma and I were able to go into those rooms with Shivani Lucki and meditate there on our own for a much longer period of time. A few days later, our pilgrims traveled by van to Joseph's home town where his incorrupt body remains on display.]

On our way up the hill back to our vans, we stopped at a very sweet, pleasant, shaded and wholly genuine outdoor cafe for capucchino. Then back to the Ananda Center for lunch and a tour of Ananda. The tour took us to the Inner Life offices and warehouse a few kilometers past the center and down the mountain in a tiny village; to the offices of the publishing house for our books in Italian, to the art gallery and workshop for several resident artists, to a member-owned organic farm (just like ours on Camano Island), and more. As much as I am tempted to speak of the Ananda community and center there and their years of dedication and the growth of it against all odds, I think I'll stick to my subject (yes, for a change!).

That evening after dinner, we were treated to a concert of music by their choir and some musicians. Many key resident members were away at the time of our visit, being just after the intensely busy summer retreat season, but they rousted enough voices to charm and inspire us. Music, like Italian cuisine, art, and countryside, has a mellifluous, light and harmonious quality that is its very own. I liken it to what happens when you buy the excellent Italian coffee and bring it home to America. It's good, but can never quite taste as good as it does in Italy. So, too, the songs they sang were familiar to us all (composed by Ananda's founder, Swami Kriyananda) and our choral groups do a wonderful job here, too, but somehow........it's not the same.....

The next day we went back to the town of Assisi to the convent of St. (Sister) Clare, called San Damiano. In St. Francis' time, it was a run down church where he prayed and where the crucifix came alive and Jesus spoke to Francis saying, "Rebuild my church!" (Now that same crucifix is to be seen in the town of Assisi at the church there dedicated to St. Claire, called, surprisingly, Santa Chiara!)

I may be speculating here but to me, and I'm sure to others, Claire was to Francis as Teresa (of Avila) was to John of the Cross: each a reflector to the other in a relationship as pure and as inspired as any such could ever be. The poignant and touching story of Clare, a beautiful teenage girl born of a prominent and wealthy family in Assisi (like Francis himself), being inspired by Francis' conversion and total dedication to Lady Poverty and his guru, Jesus Christ, secretly leaves her life of luxury and pleasure to follow Francis. They were obviously, in a sense, "spoiled rich kids" of the town and of course knew each other. Francis, formerly, the party guy in the town, was naturally well liked and well known. But, as is true in the life of many saints, both east and west, these two souls, born by past spiritual karma into position and opportunity, were but disguised saints whose "coming out" had to wait for the right moment.

The famous scene where Francis, surrounded by the very few brothers who had at that early stage come to follow him (also, upper class "boys" like himself), cuts Clare's beautiful hair in a symbolic but very real act of renunciation that is like no other. Artists down through the centuries have been inspired to depict this life-changing and archetypal event which touches us on a deep level. Her sanctity and her spiritualized love for St. Francis is one of the all time greatest stories ever told. Francis rarely permitted himself to express his feelings to her outwardly but there is no doubt of their mutual feeling, depth and purity. (I'm not here to tell their story, so I must move on).

But I say this because the spiritual power of the old convent and its utterly stark and intense simplicity, expressive of the seemingly harsh life the sisters lived there, is like pure light and crystal clear water, untainted by anything merely mortal or mundane, even if all that is tangibly left speaks of their life of material lack. The vibration of God, unseen but powerfully felt, pulses from the very stones.

Another spiritual power spot is the Porciuncula, the second little chapel that Francis and friends helped restore. As is well known, a large Basilica was built over the top of it and while not commenting on the incongruity of it all, it does protect the chapel from the weather. It's hard to get a seat in the "toy" chapel but it is well worth whatever wait is required. Swami Kriyananda, Ananda's founder, praying there many years ago, felt intense sweetness. In prayer he asked St. Francis, "How is such sweetness possible?" The answer he received was "by never judging." Whew! It is also the place where Francis died and a place where many events of his life took place. It, too, is not to be missed. And after an hour or two of prayer and upliftment, you can reward your efforts and share a gelato across the street with St. Francis looking over your shoulder -- sweetly.



Well, let's take a break, shall we? We'll return to Ananda and to Assisi in our next installment.

The blessings continue and the main reason I write these is so I can "go back!"

Swami Hrimananda














Monday, October 20, 2014

In the Footsteps of St. Francis - A Perspective

A group of Ananda members from Seattle, WA have just returned from a two-week visit to Italy. We saw the sights of Rome and the treasures of Florence, but these were but introductions to the deep spirituality which is their true source and the greatest treasure of Italy and of humankind: "the Word made flesh and dwelt amongst us."

So much has been said about the impact of St. Francis on religion and culture that I feel in awe of even attempting to share any insights. As a fact of history, St. Francis mobilized and inspired thousands of people in the direction of a profound and deep spirituality (many becoming saints like himself). His use of the vernacular, the language of the Italy of his time, and his love and embrace of nature, is said (by those more knowledgeable than me) to have sown the seeds for the Italian renaissance. Over a thousand years after the life of Jesus, he was the first to recreate and reenact, for devotional purposes, the birth of Jesus. In one simple event in a small village, he single-handedly birthed one of the most profound and inspired traditions of Christendom: the Nativity!

While ancient Rome was, itself, a colossus of genius, brute force, and sheer energy, it is not really the cultural treasure of Italy today. After all, most of it is in ruins. Nonetheless, I came to feel that for Italians, and Romans especially, they are understandably proud of their ancestral tradition and history of the glory of ancient Rome. Surely this memory has inspired some of Rome's offspring to heights of glory and genius. (Yes, Mussolini attempted to imitate it, too, for sure!). I can't say that the "glory of Rome" resonates deeply with me but any objective measure of it at its height is impressive by any standard.

Thus it is that I believes the echoes of that former greatness continued to emanate from its center in Rome far into the medieval and renaissance periods. What happened, historically, was that the fading glory and strength of the Roman empire was given over by Emperor Constantine to the fledgling Christian religion. The Church thus inherited the erstwhile power and glory of Rome, even if much reduced, indeed, on the brink of collapse, but Christianity re-enabled that power into a new form and for a new era of history.

The brilliance of the classical periods of Greece and Rome is found in its foundations in logic, reason, and appreciation and devotion to the human experience and psyche, both body and mind. While far from religiously spiritual, the classical times had a strength and beauty of its own. Indeed, so much so, that by the height of the Italian renaissance and against the pressures of the Protestant revolt, the Catholic Church itself was accused of paganism because it supported great works of art that depicted characters and gods and goddesses from the classical period and, shockingly, featured the human body in all its (unclothed) glory.

(An aside: To those of us who view human history in the light of the theory of the "Yugas" as revealed and re-interpreted by Swami Sri Yukteswar in his abstruse tome, "The Holy Science," we see that during the classical periods of Greece and Rome the power of the pantheon of the gods had become mostly an empty ritual. Belief in gods was on the decline as human consciousness was steadily losing its power of subtle perceptions beyond physical form. The old time religions devolved into superstitions and myths, the power now faded into empty, even debased, rituals and time-worn customs.

To replace the gods, humanity, or those few with integrity and insight, only had human life as a measure of our potential. What arose is what we might call today "secular humanism." This included the Stoics and the emphasis on ethics and morals based on human reason. The decline of human awareness, according to the yuga theory, reached its nadir around 500 A.D. -- about the time of the last Roman emperor. The libraries of learning and knowledge from past ages were purposely destroyed out of fear, ignorance and disdain for their seeming uselessness. Then began the slow ascent, first through the Dark Ages, then medieval times onto the Renaissance, the Protestant revolt, the age of exploration and so on. The cycle reached its parallel, though ascending rather than descending, with the Greek and Roman secular humanism during the so-called "Enlightenment," the Age of Reason which occurred roughly around the time of the American and French revolutions. In the ascending cycle, such a stage in the growing awareness of human consciousness would be a natural result of the Renaissance and the age of exploration during which human thought and the natural world became legitimate and inspired objects of man's growing self-interest. Medieval mysticism and heaven and hell began to lose their lustre in part as deep thinkers, and later, whole generations, lost faith in the practicality of their reality, such a loss being catalyzed in part due to the excesses of church institutionalism. For a marvelous and eye-opening explanation of the yugas, visit: http://www.crystalclarity.com/product.php?code=BTY)

Returning now to our subject, it occurs to me that the Roman genius and energy was reborn by divine decree (blessings, in other words) in the flowering of Christianity which replaced the Roman empire. Unfortunately, it would long be tainted, as if even by physical association, by the Roman legacy of seeking power by conquest, beauty in grandiose architecture, ego affirmation and sensuality.

The transformation of the Roman legacy into essentially a religious and spiritual one was something I felt as I walked the streets of Rome. My sense was for a new-found appreciation of the spiritual influence of so many saints (and martyrs) through whose sacrifice and consciousness the failed Roman empire was transformed into the spiritual heart of Christendom and which effectively moved its center of gravity from Jerusalem to Rome. The presence of saints Peter and Paul, alone, would have endowed the ancient city with the blessing of being an "eternal city."

As Buddha was a Hindu, Jesus was a Jew. As Buddhism left India and went east, Christianity left Palestine and went west. Such was the divine will. Rome became the center of Christian energy and remains so today. As we are witnessing a mini-renaissance in the Catholic Church under Pope Francis, purposely taking the name of St. Francis ("rebuild my Church"), so we can see at work the continuation of the promise of Jesus that to Peter he gave the keys to the kingdom on which to build his church which will stand to the end of time. (How well it has carried out its commission is, of course, debatable, but the Catholic Church is still here and is in fact experiencing yet another renaissance of sorts. That Paramhansa Yogananda gave a more metaphysical and more personal interpretation of Jesus' words doesn't necessarily negate a more outward interpretation if not taken too literally.)

Padma (my wife) pointed out that Yogananda taught that Jesus appeared to the prophet Babaji and asked Babaji to send someone from India to the west to resurrect the personal practice of inner communion using the art and science of eastern meditation. To St. Francis, then, Jesus appeared with a similar message, "Rebuild my church" by the personal "Imitation of Christ." In one conversation, one of the pilgrims wondered if, in fact, St. Francis was himself a reincarnation of Jesus. Francis had twelve disciples; he was the first to receive the stigmata (wounds of Christ); he imitated the life of Jesus literally; raised the dead. Well, anyone, idle speculation, to be sure.

Thus it was that on this journey, I found it "easy," perhaps obvious, to ascribe the genius of the Italian Renaissance (in art, sculpture and architecture) to the spiritual power and transformation of consciousness that St. Francis initialized. Further, it seems to me that Francis' appearance on the scene was a continuation of an essential vibration of greatness that stretches back, albeit taking a very different form, to Roman times. Francis' greatness was entirely spiritual but its ramifications created echoes, like waves, emanating outward from the initial shock of omnipresence, resulted in, literally, a renaissance of human consciousness. Each aspect of this being understood in the larger context of the devolution and subsequent evolution (upward) in human consciousness.

It was appropriate, therefore, that our little pilgrimage begin with a tour of the cultural treasures of Rome and Florence. On those treasures, I have little to say or to add, as art, for art's sake, is not an area of great personal interest. That I was as floored, awed, and inspired as just about anyone (ought to be) by these great works, I attest and confess, but beyond the general shock into speechlessness that many experience, I have nothing to add!

So, now we will go onto Assisi in the next article..............in the footsteps of St. Francis.......taking a far more personal and spiritually oriented tone..............and away from the more grandiloquent tone of this first "perspective."

Blessings,

Swami Hrimananda