SONG OF THE MORNING STARS

When we entered the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the Mass had just ended but the organist was still at the keyboards. As its multiplicity of multi-directional pipes filled the vast building with glorious sounds, I was reminded of Thomas Carlyle who wrote:  

"Listen, and for organ music thou wilt ever, as of old, hear the Morning Stars sing together."

 

 

LOST PROPERTY

 

Having taken a sabbatical from Facebook, I'll be returning, now and again, to my blog, safe in the knowledge (as here) that few if any read it these days so I won't have to 'like', 'love' or express some other emotion on reader's comments.

Much on my mind and in my heart right now is the question: "Why does the Church (quite frequently individually although not always collectively) seem to so often let people down?" 

I was recently re-reading (in St Luke's Gospel, Chapter 15) Jesus' words:

“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbours together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’”

Why hasn't a shepherd come in search of this wandering sheep...? 

 

'The Lost Sheep' by John Everett Millais

EASTER DAY

St John the Divine, Kennington, London
[Photo: © Brian Sibley, 2009]

SALUTE TO THE SALUTE

It is the crown of Venice, set upon the point where the Grand Canal flows into the Bacino San Marco...

Santa Maria della Salute – in translation: 'Saint Mary of Health', sometimes 'The Basilica of Good Health' – and commonly referred to simply as the 'Salute'.

This iconic feature of the Venice skyline – later painted by every artist who ever set up easel in Venice from Canaletto to J M Turner and John Singer Sargent – owes its glorious existence to a human disaster of tragic proportions.

In 1630, Venice – and the whole Veneto region – was reeling from the devastating onslaught of the Plague. It began in August and the Black Death, in a matter of months, and claimed over 46,000 of the City's 140,000 population. In the October, the Patriarch, Dodge and Senate led the people in an act of penitence and made a vow to build a church to the glory of God as a thank-offering if the City were spared.

That church is the Salute and it remains the focus of an annual act of remembrance ever 14 November, when the city crosses the Grand Canal by pontoon bridge to make its devotions.

The Salute's architect, Baldassare Longhena, wrote: 'This church... being dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, made me think – with what little talent God has bestowed upon me – of building the church in the... shape of a crown.'

Begun in 1631 and completed 50 years later it is in the form of an octagonal rotunda and, as
Longhena noted, 'It is a virgin work... curious, worthy and beautiful, made in the form of a round monument that has never been seen, nor ever before invented, neither altogether, nor in part, in other churches in this most serene city...'

The high altar features a dramatic work of Baroque theatricality: a sculptural group by the Flemish sculptor Josse de Corte, depicting 'the Queen of Heaven expelling the Plague'...

Venice (on the left), with the symbol of Venice's government, the Doge's Cap, placed submissively upon a cushion, pleads for the City before the Madonna and Child while a cherub wielding a flaming torch drives away the evil of Plague.

Over the years, like every other visitor to Venice, David and I have photographed the Salute many times in sunlight, fog, rain and snow. Here are a few of our pictures...

Photos: © Brian Sibley & David Weeks

OUR LOCAL CHURCH

There are 139 churches in Venice, but our 'local' parish church is the Chiesa di San Moisè,  dedicated to Moses, since Venetians, like the Byzantines frequently accord the patriarchs and prophets the status of sainthood.

Originally built in the 8th century, the church  also honours Moisè Venier, the aristocrat who funded the reconstruction during the 9th century. Elaborately decorated in the Baroque-style (its frontage features camels among myriad embellishments!) San Moisè shares its small campo with the Teutonic Hotel Bauer and the emporia of Prada and other peddlers of the chic...

This year, at night it is bathed in icy blue light...

On Christmas morning, the small local community boasted a two-women choir who sang the mass with more musical beauty than the full choir of the Basilica had managed to muster on the previous eve!

Appropriately for so elaborate a church, their Christmas crib is hardly understated...

Photos: © Brian Sibley & David Weeks 2015