Places for solitude and respite.

Sounded like mumbo-jumbo. Especially since it was all in Italian or Latin. But still, I enjoyed being there. With my Italian true love. It was a Catholic mass. For the dead. It’s held every year. In mid-December. The names of the deceased from the San Ponziano parish are mentioned. In a homily. A sermon.  Two years in a row I’ve attended. The one last year was more elaborate. A choir. A guitarist, too. And the mass was celebrated by Padre Antonio, the top priest in the parish. The parish has five priests, I’m told. I’m hoping to find one that speaks English. Because I want to schedule an interview. A theological/philosophical discussion. Which I plan to write about in my blog. Right here.  Sprinkled with all sorts of information/tidbits about the parish. Anyway, Padre Antonio doesn’t speak English. I’ve met him. Shook hands. And conversed a little bit.  Through a translator. Namely, my true love. Anyway, the mass this time around wasn’t as elaborate as last year’s. Two of Padre Antonio’s underlings conducted the service. And lay people did some readings, too. And the parishioners kneeled in prayer. And all but a few trekked up in single file to take communion. Of course, I merely watched. Taking it all in. Semi-fascinated.  It was chilly. We all wore coats/jackets.  But still, there’s  an inner warmth felt by just being in a church. This one of contemporary design.  A relatively small sanctuary, as Catholic churches go. The church looks impressive from outside. With a bell tower and clock that can be seen from miles away. If I get lost in Carbonia, I look around. For the bell tower. Head there, and I know where I am. I can find my way home again. The church faces on Piazza Roma. The biggest piazza in town.  Wide open. Also bordered by a fountain park, city hall and a theater for the performing arts. I stroll through the Piazza Roma virtually every day. When traveling in Italian cities,  my true love and I frequently take rest breaks in churches. Sometimes cathedrals and basilicas. It’s very pleasant.  Oh, so very soothing.  That’s how I think of churches. As places for solitude. For respite.  –Jim Broede