As I plow through the baccalaureate degree in theology at the Angelicum, the intensity of this demanding program is mitigated by the loveliness of my circumstances.
Late night study sessions in which I probe the relationship between acquired and infused virtues according to St. Thomas Aquinas while Sebastian learns "gr" words in his second grade spelling book can be magical.
My husband is my favorite person with whom to spend a day. He and I went out in Rome to celebrate his birthday. We walked around the Circus Maximus, remembering the first Christian martyrs of Rome who died there. I noticed a church and we discovered it is that of Saint Anastasia. It is so named because of THE Saint Anastasia, whom we remember in Mass, who is buried under the main altar. It is also so named for a Roman matron, Anastasia, whose property became the church for which her namesake was buried. So there are 2 Anastasias whom we honor there.
In typical Ron-like fashion, my husband stood for a while reading the Latin inscriptions by the side altar. One says that St. Jerome is likely to have said Mass there; the second says that the bones of the second Anastasia (the Roman matron) are buried there. Saint Anastasia, pray for us!
Then we had a wonderful lunch and bought Ron some birthday gifts. We talked about our life, past, present and future, and it was hard to express just how many blessings we enjoy.
The most romantic part: we were walking by a store and I noted how beautiful the dress in the window was. Ron walked right into the store and bought it! It was like so many years ago when he bought me a cello just because I wanted to learn how to play. He is so delightfully impulsive. It is incredibly endearing.
Yesterday was a sitcom-worthy day. A day in the life of the Rombses, to be sure. Before the break of dawn, Ron and I were drinking our little Italian coffees and I casually mentioned to him how much I loved my class last semester on the Theology of Grace. Ron and I started talking about it, and it took an unexpected turn, quickly becoming heated. I told him that his standard answer to "What is Grace" is not the answer the Angelicum offers. He got a bit prickly about that and he started arguing hard for his position. I got a little prickly myself and pushed back. I said that while everything he said is correct as far as I know, he is interpreting it in a way that leans away from the way Thomas Aquinas would put it. Ron said he was going to research it today and get back with me. He grabbed my Summa Theologiae I-II and two of his books on grace that I borrowed and marked up all last semester, and ran off to work.
I pick up Annie and Sebastian, and Annie tells me that she got in trouble for being late to school this morning. Her Italian teacher demanded: "Why are you LATE??" To which Annie replies in Italian: "My Mom and Dad got into an argument about the theology of grace." The teacher was so astonished that no words came. She just motioned for Annie to take her seat. Annie's frustration at us quickly waned as she realized what a cool excuse that was, and how unlikely it is ever to have come across the lips of any other 6th grader--maybe ever.
At 3:30pm, I had just returned home with 2 kids and 10 bags of groceries. As I was putting the food away, Ron bursts in the house and declares that he has gotten to the bottom of the situation: it is the difference between Aquinas and Rahner, he claims. In his most animated way, he takes me premise by premise through the fundamentals of the theology of grace, leading up to his big conclusion. So I ask him, "Now what do you say grace is?" and he gives his same answer from this morning. I laugh and tell him that is still not the Angelicum's answer. He starts all over with his argument. . . and we smell burning. Ron opens the oven and there were 2 pieces of toast burned to death. Smoke is billowing out of the oven and we rush to open all the windows so the alarm won't go off. Then Leigh calls, wondering where we are, as she is at the train station 15 minutes away, ready to be picked up. We forgot Leigh!
We took two kids to school late, almost burned down the house, and forgot another child. . .
. . . today Ron texted me quotes from yet more sources. We'll get to the bottom of it one day!
Who knew that when you live in Italy, you'd have to pluck the chickens when you want to make coq au vin? Ron said his mom used to burn the feathers off--so we tried it (not really sure whether I'll try that again or not).
Today I took my seventh of ten exams this semester at the "Angelicum," the Pontifical University of Saint Thomas. I am stupefied that I have actually taken so many courses and that I am surviving the long haul through the exam period. This semester will get me over the half-way marker for the baccalaureate degree in theology.
One course I especially loved this semester is a Scripture class that explores the history of the formation of the written texts. The course brought me to my knees in amazement that we have been given the Word of God through such a feeble human process. Just as God's revelation of Himself through Christ in the Incarnation is such a mystery, similarly, God's revelation of Himself through the written word is another such mystery. The teacher is a very holy and contemplative man, and a delight with whom to be in class.
A second highlight is a seminar on Theology and Holiness, which was very thought-provoking regarding the role of prayer and one's personal relationship with God as one does theology. The teacher is a young Louisianan priest who seemed to me the Angelicum's version of Robin Williams in the Dead Poet's Society. He had everyone captivated and thinking in new ways.
Another favorite is a class on Creation, which was one of the best classes I've ever taken anywhere. The teacher is a voracious mind with a tremendous appetite for all things philosophy, theology and science, and is not afraid to say anything if he thinks it is true. :) I spent hours and hours reading, thinking and talking about the topics he so thoughtfully presented in class.
If one can have four favorites, another favorite is the Theology of Grace. The professor is from Oxford and is on the International Theological Commission (which used to be chaired by Ratzinger). He presented lectures that were so jam-packed with the theology of grace that I typed till my fingers were numb trying to keep up. I read several books in tandem to the course, including Journet's The Meaning of Grace, O'Callahan's Children of God in the World, and a study and analysis of Aquinas's treatment of grace in the Summa. I also surveyed (I believe) every single mention of grace in the Bible. It may be the course for which I have had to work the hardest since I've been here. His "easy exam" (that's what he said it would be) took me days and days of reading, writing and memorizing just to barely pass (I don't actually know what grade I got; he just said, "Well done, now," with a heavy British inflection).
Did I mention how much I loved my Christian Archaeology class? We went on trips through Rome and visited ancient sites and excavations. I wrote a paper on house-churches in Rome in the Early Church. I loved it!
I've also been working my way through some of the books and articles by Thomas Joseph White. He writes quite a bit on my main interest, which is kenosis, or self-emptying. If I could go all the way at the Angelicum and write a doctoral thesis, I would want to focus on the theme of self-emptying a) in God (whether it does or does not exist in the Trinity, and I would say it does not), b) in Christ, c) in the life of Christians. To me, the vocation of motherhood is so sacred because it is a vocation that invites a self-emptying that I believe is a reflection of that of Christ. The key Scripture passage that is my focus is Philippians 2:6-9 which reads: ". . . Christ Jesus who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross." This might be my favorite passage in the Holy Scripture.. First, it instantly brings me to adoration and worship of God every time I hear it. Second, the self-emptying of Christ can be imitated and might be a key to the fullness of the Christian life. All vocations, from the loftiest to the most mundane can be the occasion for self-donation, self-emptying. But some, I think, are especially well suited to it, and motherhood is one of them. That seems a theme worth exploring.
Will I be able to go "all the way" here? I have no idea. It is in God's hands. I will be teaching Philosophy at the University of Dallas this summer, and who knows what my teaching will look like in years to come. But if I can keep studying theology, that would be a dream come true.
How much longer will he dress up?
Here he is donning a ninja shoulder piece, a priest's stole, protective lenses for the nerf gun, and a helmet that might just be the detachable hoodie from his winter coat. I'v never seen this particular configuration and will likely never see it again. His costume ensembles are always variations on a theme. One thing I know for sure, however: my older children DO NOT DRESS UP ANY MORE. After years and years of almost daily masquerades in cowboy and knight costumes, ballgowns and fairy costumes, not one of my older girls or boys dresses up in costumes any longer. It seems certain that THIS WILL END. How unbearably sad!
Sebastian is eating double what he used to eat. Every dinner he eats two plates of food instead of one. Today, right now in fact, I am testing our family on the major question: "How much macaroni and cheese is too much?" I am making 2 kilos of pasta with a homemade cheese sauce (no Kraft over here!). IS 2 kilos too much? It looks like so much that I think it myself, "I must have overshot." But this weekend I brought home about 5 kilos of fruit and it was ALL GONE the next day. The point is that Sebastian is tearing through food like a termite in a forest and I bet he is about to shoot up in size. Will that have an impact on his growing up and out of playful games and dress up? I can see this chapter soon coming to a close!
One question I've wrestled with all semester is "What is the role of faith in theology?" Is there such a thing as a great theologian who is great because he or she has a powerful intellect, but his or her thinking is not the result of a holy life of prayer, of faith, hope and love? Can a person who is not close to God be a good theologian, just because he or she sees things more clearly than others? Conversely, can a very holy, prayerful person who has an abundance of divine faith, hope and love infused in his or her soul be a pitiful theologian? Isn't it the case that the world is fallen and unholy people "succeed" and holy people "fail"?
I have come to believe that the greatest Christian theologians have WISDOM. True, a smart person can do the lesser tasks of explaining the history of theology or doing encyclopedia entries on topics relating to faith and morals. But I don't think a theologian can become truly great without wisdom. Wisdom is not "thinking about" something. It is a union of the mind with God. It is intuitive, a grasping, a touching. I do not think this can be experienced without love for God.
Can people be prayerful, holy and virtuous, and simply not be good theologians? Yes. That is the unfortunate fact of our broken world. One might spend more time in the Adoration chapel praying for insight, and his opponent "win" the theologican debate. But that should not deter us from a life of prayer and a desire for union with God as the necessary context for our theological lives. Theology is a contemplative activity, and as such, it should be oriented primarily and directly to God. God can take care of the rest.
23 years ago, Ron and I met at the altar in St. Patrick's Cathedral in NYC and got married. Then we had the best dinner dance party I think I've ever been to. What a start to a life long adventure. Last night we celebrated our anniversary with our kids. Another fantastic party!
I cooked all day and made what are right now my favorite dishes:
Steak Florentine with Ginger-Citrus Sauce (I've mocked it up based on a favorite restaurant dish)
Zucchini flowers stuffed with fresh ricotta, wrapped with prosciutto crude, and pan fried
Spinach and chicory
Roasted potatoes
Creme brûlée
Valpolicella
Annie helped me cook all day. Ron built a charcoal fire outside and grilled the steaks. Clare DJ'd. It was a great celebration and a joyful reminder of the unfathomable gift of a lifetime--being married to Ron.
We are in one of the most beautiful towns I've ever seen--Merano, which is located in the northern region of Italy called Trentino Alto Adige. This town is known for relaxation and beauty, and authors, empresses and psychologists alike have discovered it and spent long periods here. There is a little ski basin, and we did not plan to ski much. My only hope was that Leigh, who is going on a ski trip with her school this coming February, would get some practice so she does not break a leg this winter. Even as small as this basin is, several of us have taken advantage of the skiing as well as the thermal baths and Christmas markets. We are so blessed!
Sebastian has caught up with Annie in helpfulness in the kitchen. Just in the past week has has taken a big leap forward, learning how to wash dishes properly, cut fruit, and even make scrambled eggs (with a little help).
Annie, in all her awesomeness, made cookie dough a day in advance. Then yesterday, we rolled out the cookie factory! Christmas cookies galore!
After a HARD month, a HARD week, being sick with a fever and quarantined with my son, I emerged from the darkness and had a GREAT DAY.
First: My 11-year-old daughter sings in a Byzantine choir. Our church in Grottaferrata is Roman Catholic but has a Greek rite, having been established before the Schism in 1054--it's a long story. My daughter sings in their teen choir. I walked in on them to pick her up at the end of rehearsal. They were just beginning a hymn to Mary. . . in Greek. It was SO BEAUTIFUL. Afterwards she was glowing. My daughter was telling me how choir gives her an excuse to sing her heart out for 1.5 hours twice a week, with no one (like little brothers) to tell her to be quiet.
Second: My 16-year-old daughter is going to perform in a musical recital with a group, and she will be playing guitar. Six months ago, you could not have bribed her to play in front of people. Now she has actually picked out what she wants to wear--white go-go boots, black pants and a white t-shirt with orange graphics. She is actually excited. She does not have the boots so I told her the chores she can do to earn the money. She responded, "I might do that" which for her is a hard commitment. Awesome.
Third: My seven-year-old son took my phone tonight and read Vespers. We all read Evening Prayer together out loud as a family. Sebastian has been learning to read English and Italian at the same time at school--I'd be slow on the uptake too. After all this time of watching, listening, and trying to follow along, tonight he grabbed my phone with the readings on it. It was like a budding singer grabbing a mike. Make it count and never turn back! Sebastian read his heart out. He dominated. The older kids usually take turns reading the various prayers and readings that are not communal prayer. But Sebastian read all of them that we'd let him! He read right through the intentions and then the Magnificat at the end. He was so proud of himself. His older sisters beamed, watching him in amazement. It was raw delight for us all.
Fourth: My 12-year-old daughter is learning German while learning more Italian. Tonight she announced that she is picking up Russian in her spare time. After she corrected Sebastian three times, we all agreed that she is going to be the strictest parent of the bunch. Given her proclivity to fruit (she would eat only fruit if you'd let her), we joked that her kids are going to be fruit-a-terians!
When pressures mount, illness weighs heavily and burdens confuse my mind, I can lose my peace, lose my joy. I give in to the stupid lie of "anxiety." Oh, how am I not past that by now? I am almost 50 years old and have everything a Christian could want. I have God and I have the vocation God picked for me. It is so fulfilling. How can I ever let external things bother me? I am richly blessed.
