I Am Not Italian

Billy Collins reminds us that when we travel, even if we are not natives in the country, we can “do as the Romans do” and enjoy the delights of the local culture. By drinking an espresso in a “little white cup,” the speaker – not an Italian – can taste “the same sweetness of life” as the locals.

I am Not Italian, Billy Collins

I am not Italian, technically speaking,
yet here I am leaning on a zinc bar in Florence
on a sunny weekday morning,
my foot up on the smooth iron railing
just like the other men, who,
it must be said, are officially and fully Italian.

It’s 8:40 and they are off to work,
some in offices, others sweeping the streets,
while I am off to a museum or a church
to see paintings, maybe light a candle in an alcove.
Yet here we all are in our suits and work shirts
joined in the brotherhood of espresso,

or how is it said? La fratellanza dell’espresso,
draining our little white cups
with a quick flourish of the wrist,
each of us tasting the same sweetness of life,
if you take a little sugar, and the bitterness
of its brevity, whether you choose to take sugar or not.

Gratitude

When we have been unjustly hurt, our reaction might understandably be anger and resentment, and we might be motivated to retaliate. Let’s say we experience a great loss because of someone else’s actions against us – a life-changing and devastating loss. How do we get beyond vengeance against the one who caused the loss and move towards gratitude for what we had that was lost?  It’s a hard change of heart and mind: being thankful that we had the lost thing at all – a person, a job, a prized possession – for however long, rather than resentful for having been deprived of it. Gratitude can be a powerful avenue through the trauma of loss. It does not minimize the intense pain that always accompany the work of rebuilding one’s life in an entirely different context, but it can take away the feeling of anger and the conviction that a terrible injustice has been done, and it opens the way for thanksgiving and renewed trust in the world.

Trinity Sunday

Last Sunday was Trinity Sunday for Christian traditions who believe in a Trinitarian God. It is a complicated theological concept – and many scholars have tried to make logical sense of three Gods in one: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I find that metaphors help.

One sermon I heard used the images of the lover (God), the beloved (His Son, in whom He is well pleased), and the spirit of love that engulfs them and imbues all of us (the Holy Spirit). I have also heard of the metaphor of the dance to help us understand. God is the creator of the dance; his Son is embodying the dance, and the Holy Spirit is providing the music that make a harmonious dance possible. Both metaphors make clear that the concept of the Trinity is a relational one. We all strive to live in loving, harmonious relationship to our God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – and to one another.

Pentecost

Last Sunday was Pentecost, the visitation of the Holy Spirit upon the twelve and by extension to us. The gift of the Holy Spirit is a profound gift, infusing us with the strength to do God’s will : help the poor, say our prayers, spread the gospel.  

 The metaphors around the Pentecost are tongues of fire, streams of water, streams of breath: all elements of the natural worlds help us understand the power of the experience. If it is a river, let it flow. If it is a wind, let it blow. If it is a fire, let it burn. In all cases, let it do it service in the spirit of God’s love.