Some fifteen or twenty years ago, our late pastor, George J. Parnassus, of whom I have also written in these pages obtained a catalog of rather beautiful accoutrements (props in Hollywood lingo) from a variety of Zefferelli films. That is the Italian Director, who famously made, for example, the 1970 ish version of "Romeo and Juliet". There was to be an auction. Among the items was a reproduction of the Damiano Cross from which St. Francis of Assisi heard the exhortation "Francis, rebuild my Church!"
St. Francis, still on his road to conversion, or re-version--for he was raised a Catholic among the wealthy tradesmen of Assisi--misunderstood a little. He thought Our Lord from the Cross was asking him to restore the ruins in which the rood remained a fixture.
It was the beginning of a saint.
The reproduction had been used in Zeffrelli's Italian film version of the story of Saint Francis (not the Bradford Dillman and Delores Hart American one). The Monsignor was taken with it, and with the idea that it would be a beautiful, profound piece above the tabernacle containing the Lord's Real Presence. And so, correspondence began with Italy and the representatives of the director.
One day the large and heavy crucifix appeared in our lower sacristy, successfully acquired. It was covered in cloth, very similar perhaps to a shroud. It had apparently become in need of some repair and restoration, and because it was so large and weighty, it needed a special installation against the back wall.
And then one day, it was there, the eyes of Our Lord looking down from this wood of torture with eyes of kindness and promise. I have loved to be in the presence of the Cross in the Presence of Our Lord ever since. His Eyes seem even to follow us as we walk from one end of the sanctuary to the other, protecting and guiding.
After Monsignor died, among his things was the original catalog, with several photographs which must indeed have sold Monsignor on the gift that having the Crucifix become part of the tapestry of our parish. I was fortunate. I was able to make copies of two of the most wonderful photos.
When I look at the one in the black and white photograph, I realize that I have something in common with the actors below it, kneeling at the fictional altar. Every Sunday, I too kneel below it, for the celebration of the Eucharistic sacrifice. And I can imagine that He joins us as we kneel in prayer.
1 comment:
As I write this, it's early in the morning of April 9. Happy 60th Birthday -- I can remember it because yours is exactly three months earlier than mine.
It's amazing how time flies -- I can still remember parties you and your dad had in the apartment on Giles Ave., and it's hard to believe it's been 10 years since the WFUV reunion.
We live in a society in which it's increasingly difficult to be Catholic. On one side are the stresses and blandishments of 21st-century life; on the other are the increasing number of people, many of whom are in positions of power and a number of whom purport to be Catholics, who are doing their best to eliminate God and his church from society.
I continue to find solace and encouragement from your blog; it reminds me, even moreso than going to Mass and other more common practices, why I was placed on this earth. And so, as you enter a new decade of life, I wish you, and the blog, many more years of happiness.
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