Saturday, July 1, 2017

Faifoli one more time

Maria was distressed to hear that, though we'd been to Santa Maria di Faifoli twice, we'd never seen the inside. Why didn't we come to the church before we took off on Sunday, just after Mass, while the church was still open. She and Paolo would be there and could show us around.

Such is my appetite for Catholic churches that I said yes. So after we'd loaded Rita up with a giant bag of groceries that we'd bought and never gotten around to eating, we drove out to Faifoli and waited for the service to be over so that we could insinuate our godless selves into the building and at least see the interior.

First we had to pose for some photos with our friends. I particularly liked the pizzazz of Maria's Sunday outfit. I need a bit more Italian in my clothing choices, I think.

























I'd read enough about the church to know not to expect much from the interior. It's pretty basic.

However, I was pleased to see this rendition of the Virgin Incoronata in a tree, a vision that appeared to someone in the grotto nearby and that apparently prompted the church to be built. It reminded me of some of those giant kitsch appropriations that Jeff Koons used to do.  It also reminded me that we met at least two women named Incoronata, a name that delights me. 

And here to the right is Pope Celestine. Since he isn't dressed as a pope, and he doesn't look like he's in his 80s, this must show him in happier days, when he was a humble monk who hadn't yet ascended to the papal throne and then committed "il gran rifiuto" (the great rejection) by walking away from it. Still, he looks like he knows what lies ahead.
Since our children were obsessed with the stray dog they dubbed Abbandonato, I was also interested to see that the church's few ornaments include a statue of San Rocco, who was saved from plague by a dog who brought him bread to eat and healed his sores by licking them.












Then it was time for one more round of cheek kisses and heartfelt good-byes. We drove down out of the hills of Molise and headed for the Adriatic.

No comments:

Arriverderci!

Quanto? Tanto!  has moved over to Substack, where the nuts and bolts of this sort of operation are more up to date. Please join me over ther...