The centenary of St. Elizabeth has come to an end. For me it started almost three years ago now, in February 2006. And how much has happened in that time! I will probably never be properly able to grasp it all, but here at least is what happened on this round in Hungary, during the General Chapter of the Secular Franciscans and the last of the centenary celebrations.
I arrived at Budapest airport on schedule on Saturday, November 15, but trouble soon developed. My luggage didn’t appear on the carousel. In fact, the luggage of a number of people on my flight didn’t appear. I had to get in line to report it missing. To make matters worse, my video camera and tripod were in those bags! I knew that volunteer drivers were supposed to be outside, and they wouldn’t know whether I had arrived or not or what was keeping me. I couldn’t go through customs until I was finished. Fortunately, the drivers were still waiting, holding up a sign announcing the chapter, and I went right over to them. They were meeting several of us from different flights at the same time. We got into the van and took of for the Manreza Spiritual Center in Dobogókö.
The northern part of Hungary between Budapest and Esztergom is mountainous and really gorgeous, even in gray November. The center is located in in a winter ski resort area, with a beautiful central lodge, where the conference hall is located. It has bedrooms on the upper floors, plus two other buildings with other bedrooms. There I met Michael, the cameraman, who had already arrived all the way from sunny California, and some of my fellow SFO’s who had appeared in the first interviews for the documentary back in 2007.
On Saturday and Sunday, we filmed the liturgies, chapter meetings and liturgical celebrations for the planned chapter video. Fortunately my luggage was returned Sunday afternoon, and I could take part in the filming of backup video from angles different than Michael’s.
Our first important work for the St. Elizabeth documentary was on Monday, November 17, when we attended the closing celebrations for her centenary in Esztergom, some 20 miles to the north. Esztergom was the seat and main residence not only of the archbishop, but of the medieval Arpad dynasty, and of St. Elizabeth’s father, King Andrew II. Elizabeth’s brother, Bela IV, eventually moved the royal seat to Budapest after the Mongol invasion devastated Esztergom in 1241. Only part of the castle remained and was given to the bishop.
The earliest basilica on the spot was built by St. Stephen, Hungary’s first Christian king and Elizabeth’s ancestor and dedicated to St. Adalbert; according to tradition, Stephen was crowned in the basilica in 1000. It was ruined and rebuilt several times because of invasions and other disasters. The building of the present church began in 1822. The beautiful fresco of the Assumption by Michelangelo Grigoletti over the high altar reflects its second dedication to Blessed Mary Taken into Heaven.
Unfortunately our group’s visit inside the castle before Mass had to be scrapped, because nobody had realized that the Castle Museum was closed Mondays. Even influential art expert Maria Prokopp, who was planning to go with our group as a guide couldn’t get us in. That was a tremendous disappointment (but it turned out well in the end, as you’ll see). So we had to be content with exploring around the outside of the cathedral and castle, where there is a beautiful statue of the crowning of St. Stephen.
The Mass in the cathedral concluding the centenary was celebrated by Laszlo Cardinal Paskai, O.F.M., the former primate of Hungary, and a Franciscan. The Franciscan priests of Hungary, and the Franciscan Conference of Spiritual Assistants to the SFO concelebrated and Hungarian SFO members were there, along with the whole the General Chapter of the SFO. Everyone was deeply moved by the Mass, and by receiving St. Elizabeth’s bread at the altar afterwards, a symbol of her generous kindness to others; we were also given a chance to kiss her relic. Since I was only filming backup video, I was able to enjoy this Mass much more than the one in Assisi.
Michael was interested in some outdoor shots of Esztergom, especially the castle and cathedral. So that night he made arrangements to have Jozsef, one of the SFO volunteer drivers, take us back into town the next morning and drop us off on his way into Budapest to pick someone up at the airport. We were told that the Castle Museum would also be open, and that we could stop in there, but whether we could get permission to shoot was anyone’s guess. We set out shortly after 7:00 and to our delight, Jozsef told us that he didn’t have to pick anyone up after all, and that he could drive us around for the whole morning if we wanted.
Our first goal when we arrived back in Esztergom was to get a good shot of the castle from the river. As it happens, the Danube river there is the border line between Hungary and Slovakia. We drove to the middle of the bridge, and just before you get to the Slovakian border guards, there is a little place you can park on the bridge, just perfect for taking pictures and video. The light was rather hazy and Michael would have preferred a night shot when the castle was lighted up, but the view was still spectacular.
After that, we had a stop for coffee and juice at a little cafe. (We had left before breakfast at the center; I hadn’t had anything to eat but my St. Elizabeth’s bread). Then we decided to look for a hilly area where Michael could get panoramic shots of the town, since the museum didn’t open until 10:00. I We went up a steep road, stopped at a level spot, and shot the castle and cathedral. I took this photo, though the castle isn’t really visible.
But Michael believed there was an even higher elevation. We drove up a very steep hill and found that by going up an even steeper path you could reach a spot that offered a splendid bird’s-eye view of the city. A torn toenail that had become infected was bothering me, so I stayed below in Jozsef’s van while he and Michael took the path and got the shot.
Then it was on to the museum. The permissions question worked itself out miraculously and soon we were exploring the museum with our video cameras. We spent around two hours there, much more time than the 20-30 minutes we would have had with the group, though unfortunately this meant we didn’t get to incorporate any shots of the group in the video.
Here is a room from the 12th-century part of the castle, a room Elizabeth might have played in as a child. The Romanesque architecture is quite similar to the rooms of Wartburg Castle, Elizabeth’s home after she was engaged to Ludwig of Thuringia and left to go to Germany at the age of four, around 1211.
Michael also shot some video in the castle courtyard. This is just before we went into the other, more recent side of the castle complex.
Inside, we filmed the Knight’s Hall; at one end of it was a replica of the crown of St. Stephen; the original is jealously guarded in the Hungarian state treasury; a very precious symbol of the nation. It seems from recent studies that a part of it does date back to the early 11th century, the time of St. Stephen; this part was incorporated into the later crown. Jozsef told us that a later king of Hungary was once being pursued on horseback by an enemy while wearing the original crown, when he fell off his horse and his crown was damaged: the cross on top was bent. When the copy was made, it reproduced everything exactly, including the bent cross!
We then climbed the stairs to the top floor of this newer part, and went out onto a balcony with a spectacular view of the Danube river that flowed right under the castle walls. Michael tooks some more video from here, but he had already taken some film of the river from every window we came across. We ended our visit to the castle reluctantly, and Michael took some more shots inside the cathedral before we went back to the conference center. We told Jozsef that he deserved a spot in the credits of the completed film!
Our day-long tour of Budapest on Thursday, November 20, was splendid. Once again we got on the buses, and it didn’t seem long before we were there. As we drove along, Suszanna, one of the Hungarian chapter members, gave us a brief explanation of the sights. One of the most impressive was the Hungarian Parliament building across the river; another was the famous Chain bridge with the stone lions at the entrance. We stopped at the Royal Palace and from the terrace in back got a splendid view of the city and the Danube river. We then stopped in Holy Trinity Square, where the Church of Matthias is located. The Church is actually dedicated to Our Lady, but gained its name because the marriages of King Matthias Corvinus were celebrated there. It is also the coronation church of the Hungarian kings,The church was unfortunately largely covered with scaffolding, but King Matthias himself was there, represented in a fine equestrian statue in the nearby square. We looked in a few souvenir shops, then on to our next stop, St. Elizabeth’s Church in Roses Square. On the way, we passed Margaret Island, where Elizabeth’s niece, St. Margaret of Hungary (1242-1271), lived in a Dominican convent, imitating her aunt in lowly service to the poor.
St. Elizabeth’s Church, where the people of Budapest honor their national patroness is a lovely, Neo-Gothic structure, built around 1900. It’s surrounded by a gate, and a beautiful green park in front.
In front, there is a statue of St. Elizabeth in her most famous pose, holding roses. It recalls the famous story of her meeting her husband Ludwig as she was carrying some bread to the poor in her skirt. She didn’t want him to criticize her for her excessive charity, so when he asked what she was carrying, she said roses. When he looked in her skirt, he actually saw roses there. Modern scholars very much doubt this story because a) Elizabeth’s husband certainly never opposed her charities, b) the earliest versions give a different version of the story, in which she is a small child meeting her father, King Andrew II of Hungary; c) Elizabeth’s attitude and actions as portrayed in the story have much more in common with those of a small child and her father than a grown woman and her husband. Another reason for doubting the story is that it is a very common one, found in a number of saints’ lives, including that of Elizabeth’s contemporary, St. Rose of Viterbo.
Our last stop was at the Millennium Monument in Heroes’ squre, with its monumental statues of Elizabeth’s ancestors and relatives of the Arpad dynasty: Arpad himself, the tribal leader and his companions; King Stephen I, King Andrew II, and King Bela IV.
Later in the week, we did all of our interviews, though finding times when people would be available in the right schedule of the chapter was difficult. But in the end we got everything we needed. I was especially happy to interview the younger Secular Franciscans, who gave an appreciation of what Elizabeth means to young people.
It seemed almost incredible when the time had already come to go home.
Now with all this new footage, my next task is to edit a new trailer for the documentary, which I hope to have online soon. See keep watching this site!
(Note, click on any of the photos above to get the full-size version. The new image management on Wordpress has proved very difficult for me to master, and the full-size pictures don’t align properly).
The St. Elizabeth trailer is now on YouTube — it took me long enough to figure out how to get it there! So enjoy, and if you are interested in contributing to making the documentary a reality, go here. Thanks!
Tau Cross Books and Media now has its own channel on YouTube!
The first thing I have put up there is a short slide show of the Mass at Sts. Cosmas and Damian in Rome marking the beginning of Elizabeth’s centenary year on November 17, 2006. I hope to put up the teaser trailer as soon as possible and later other footage from the upcoming documentary.
We had left the railroad station behind us and the car was traveling up the winding road to the top of the hill. My heart thrilled at the sight of that hilltop, because though it was over twenty years since I had last seen it, it was still as familiar to me as my own home. For all Franciscans, this is their spiritual home. The cab driver wanted to know where I was from.
“Da New York.” I said.
“È bella, New York?” he wanted to know.
“Si, ma non è bella come Assisi! - It’s not as beautiful as Assisi” I assured him.
I was here to celebrate the eighth centenary of the birth of a great Franciscan saint, Elizabeth of Hungary, and to videotape the ceremonies at the Basilica of Santa Maria degli Angeli and the Basilica of San Francesco for my upcoming documentary. This time I was on my own with the taping; I had a very good camcorder, but had only used a tripod once or twice before.
After arriving at the Leonardo da Vinci airport in Rome around noon on November 15, I got to Assisi by train around 5:30. The first thing I noticed was that it was extremely cold and windy; something you barely ever see in Italy at any time. The last time I was in Assisi it hadn’t been nearly this cold in December. Everyone was commenting on the unseasonable weather. After the cab driver dropped me off at the little Hotel “Il Duomo,” and I had checked in, I had some pizza at the little restaurant next door, which was very convenient, because it was too cold to walk very far in my light coat. After that, a little work on my translating, and to bed.
The next morning, I got a call from Fr. Fernando, head of the committee for the centenary celebrations, inviting me to dinner with him and the Presidency of CIOFS (the International Council of the Secular Franciscans) that evening at 7:30. I had to be in the Basilica of S. Maria degli Angeli by 8:00, 8:15 at the latest to set up my camcorder for the prayer service at 9:00. Fortunately the Basilica was only a block away from the convent where they were staying. It is by far the best place to hold this celebration, because the basilica is built surrounding the Portiuncula - the first little chapel of St. Francis and his friars — the birth place of the Franciscan movement, which St. Elizabeth was so drawn to follow.
It was still cold, but thankfully, not as windy. I made a quick visit to San Rufino just around the corner — the cathedral of Assisi; the font where St. Francis and St. Clare were baptized is still there. Then I began walking in the general direction of the Basilica of San Francesco, where St. Francis is buried. Assisi is a small town, and I knew it was right at the opposite end, so I couldn’t miss it. Assisi is also a very hilly town, but fortunately, my walk was mostly downhill. The little narrow streets and alleyways have barely changed since the Middle Ages.
And now here it was. I saw the Upper Basilica first, because I approached it from the road that leads there from the upper part of the city. I was anxious to see if the damage from the 1997 earthquake that had caved in the ceiling was still visible, and if it had damaged Giotto’s famous frescoes.
The church was quite dark inside, and oddly, seemed smaller than I remembered. There were a number of tourists walking around, but it looked gray and cheerless. No one was taking pictures; in fact, people are discouraged in many churches in Italy from taking pictures with flashes. So I didn’t take any. I could see very little damage, none at all to the beautiful Giotto frescoes, though they seemed to have become a little more faded with time. The frescoed layer of paint seemed to have flaked or fallen off above the church entrance, but that may have been there before the earthquake. There was a kind of yellow flatbed with wheels, which looked almost like a tractor bed, underneath the frescoes at one side, perhaps used to support the scaffolding for some restoration work, though there was no scaffolding there at the time. Perhaps services are seldom held here now; I never found out for sure.
The couple in the square, who seemed to be on their second honeymoon, apparently didn’t mind my taking a picture (though the huge square in front of the lower church was my real subject). I though the colonnade surrounding the square and the cathedral door especially lovely.
I was delighted to find the lower church better lighted and more welcoming. I was also happy to find that an English-language votive Mass for St. Francis was just starting at one of the transept altars, so I joined the people in the pews. I wondered if they were Secular Franciscans and were here for the centenary. I spoke to some of them afterwards; they were actually people from a parish in Florida, making a pilgrimage to Italy with their pastor; they were celebrating the Mass of St. Francis in honor of it being his basilica, as they had in all the church in Rome they had visited.
I looked at all the famous frescoes in the lower church, including the one of the Franciscan saints with Clare and Elizabeth. Then I went to the little room below that held all the relics of St. Francis, including his poor grayish-brown habit, patched like a crazy quilt with all different colors of cloth. St. Elizabeth, according to the testimonies at her canonization process, wore one just like it. There was also a little ivory horn, given to St. Francis by the Sultan of Egypt, after he had walked through the battle lines to speak with the sultan about peace — the peace of Christ. This is a very hard room to leave.
Then — but I had go go back upstairs to do it –I took another little set of steps down to the crypt of the Basilica, where St. Francis lies, surrounded by his closest companions, including the Roman noblewoman Jacoba dei Settesoli - his dear “Brother Jacoba.” (The handkerchief with which she wiped his brow as he lay dying is also in the relic room).
My final visit was to the bookstore of the friars, where they sell Franciscan books in every language, along with religious articles. I had barely started to talk about my book on St. Elizabeth in my halting Italian, when the friar running the store said - “Fine, we’ll take twenty.” I could hardly believe it! (I mailed the books after I arrived home).
After all this, I was really hungry, and had a very late lunch around 3:00 at a little pizzeria. Then a long walk, mostly uphill, to the main square of the town, the attractive Piazza Comunale. Many of the buildings are medieval. The most beautiful thing in it, though, was the Temple of Minerva, dedicated to the goddess when Assisi was a Roman town, sometime in the first century B.C. The beautiful Corinthian columns are a little worn and pitted by time, but still intact; it is one of the few temple facades surviving intact from antiquity. Inside is quite a contrast — you see a little church called Santa Maria Sopra Minerva with baroque paintings framed in elaborate altarpieces. The church is served by Fr. Fernando and the Franciscans of the Third Order Regular (TOR); their convent of San Antonio is just around the corner of the square. The Third Order friars must have quite a thing for ancient Roman architecture, for their convent in Rome at Saints Cosmas and Damian was once part of the Roman Forum.
The hotel was only a couple of blocks (on a very steep uphill climb) from the Piazza Comunale. From there I got the suitcase with all the camera equipment ready and took a cab back down to the convent, right near the train station. I arrived early enough to get in on the last part of the meeting of the Presidency; it was wonderful to see my friends again. We had a wonderful supper in the sisters’ dining room, but for me it was a very quick one. Doug Clorey (one of my interview subjects from February) volunteered to help me take my suitcase over to the Basilica. We made it there in record time, but it was already almost 8:15.
Now disaster struck. The church was closed and locked! We rang the convent bell but no one answered. In fact, no one showed up to unlock the church until five minutes to 9. A huge crowd was already waiting And I had so carefully arranged ahead of time for the basilica to be open to set up for the taping! Nevertheless, since people still had to enter and the priests still had to robe, I got about 10-15 minutes to set up the camera with Doug’s help. The place they directed me to was far from ideal. It was right in the corner between the front and side pews, so that when people stood to sing we wouldn’t be able to see anything of the proceedings up front. I was also disappointed that we were situated in such a way that I could get only a little of the Porziuncula chapel itself into the frame. But I reminded myself that I was sure to get at least a little good footage.
The service consisted of hymns and prayers, interspersed with passages from the sources on Elizabeth. I was amazed and delighted to discover that passages from the Anonymous Franciscan, the source that I had edited and made available for the first time, were included. Fr. Michael Higgins, the new Minister General of the TOR (and our host in Rome in February) gave the talk, pointing out how it was at the Portiuncula that St. Francis had held the chapter that had sent the friars to Germany in 1221, where St. Elizabeth first became acquainted with the Franciscan movement. He pointed out that her spirituality was completely imbued with the spirit of the early Third Order for women. I knew right away that I wanted to include this portion in the film.
The Mass early next morning went much better, since the church is always open from around 6:30 in the morning, and I had plenty of time to set up. I also made sure I was far enough back that I wouldn’t always be getting nothing but the backs of people’s heads, and that the tripod was raised up far enough. The mass was celebrated by a very large number of priests, the Ministers General of the branches of the First Order, and a Secular Franciscan deacon on the altar. The Bishop of Assisi presided and gave a beautiful homily.
Then followed lunch with the CIOFS Council, an impromptu book signing, because the President’s Council had bought copies of my book for everyone, and a much-needed siesta — much needed by me, especially, because I had scarcely slept at all the night before. We also had a quick dinner before heading to San Francesco for the concert in the Lower Basilica by the Schola Hungarica, which I had also planned to tape. This time I had a very clear space in front of me, so I could just start the camera, sit on the side altar steps and relax. Unfortunately, the Lower Basilica wasn’t as well lighted as Santa Maria had been, so I wondered how well the picture would turn out. At least I was now more experienced in setting up a tripod.
The time was going so fast! Sunday was my last day in Assisi. I attended Mass at Santa Maria Sopra Minerva and had a delicious lunch at a little trattoria on the main square. I spent most of the day taking footage outdoors with my camcorder, hoping some of it could be used in the documentary. That night I had a delightful dinner with Father Fernando and his friars at S. Antonio.
Monday morning, I was up early to catch the train — which never came. Nor did the next one. In fact, I finally found out, all trains heading south would be delayed until at least 11:30 — and my flight was at 2:00! I took a cab to Foligno, but missed the train there by two or three minutes. I knew right then I would miss my flight. I finally caught a later train from Foligno. But when I got to the airport and tried to rebook fly flight to New York, I was told my airline was closed, and nothing could be done until morning. But it wasn’t all bad. I called Fr. Higgins from the airport and he invited me to spend the night at the convent. I wasn’t at all sorry to spend another night at our lovely Cosmas and Damian and feast my eyes once again on the Colisseum. “All the other friars are away,” Fr. Mike said, “so it’s just you and me for dinner.” We had pizza at one of the picturesque places just across the way on the via Cavour.
And Tuesday afternoon, reluctantly, I got on the plane for home. Reflecting would come later. I couldn’t even write this until now - a month later — because of the backlog of work once I got home. But I hope to post some more updates on the documentary here soon.
Once again, I’ve had too little time to write. It part, that’s good news because book sales have been going so well.
Last weekend was the Fall Gathering of the Tau Cross region of the Secular Franciscans, and I was there to sign books. Tomorrow night, from 7:30-9:00 I will speak and sign books at St. Elizabeth of Hungary Church in Melville, out on Long Island. Read about it here.
I have just time for some news: I will be traveling to Assisi on November 14-19, and will be there to celebrate the official centenary of St. Elizabeth of Hungary on the 16th and 17th. I hope to do some work on the documentary as well.
Pausing to look at all the sights on our way to Jerusalem. . . Mainly about faith, the Church, film, writing, famous Christian authors, and anything else I'm interested in at the moment.
The photo above was taken at St. Peter's Basilica in Rome in March 2007.
Quote of the Month
"The history of the Catholic missions is by now a long road: at the beginning of that road is the Father of Mercy, who holds out his arms to all his children. All those who encounter the missionaries encounter the Father. And they also encounter the Son, the first missionary, who, obeying the Father, comes to earth, becomes flesh in human nature, is one of us, in solidarity with our misery (except for sin) and ends up dying for us in order to then return to heaven, carrying on his shoulders the human race his has won back.
Out of the same mold are the missionaries, who repeat, in some way, his journey. They too leave their fathers and families and depart to go among a foreign people. They too strip themselves of the refined culture they have acquired in their homelands; and of their native customs and habitat, of a hundred little comforts, in order to be in solidarity. With who? With a people who are on one hand naked and poor, and on the other rich in possibilities, which the missionaries intend to respect, value and elevate."
Albino Luciani (Pope John Paul I), to the people of his diocese of Vittorio Veneto, on his return from the diocesan missions in Africa in 1966
