At the Sanctuary

Day 11 (Afternoon & Evening) on the Via di Francesco

I always felt that spending time at the Sanctuary of La Verna was going to be a pivotal moment in my journey. I am sure I have not yet worked it out but it was significant.

My first task was to check-in which proved quite challenging as I wandered around not really knowing where anything was and realising it was a bigger complex than I had realised. I finally found the check-in desk then had another wander until I finally found my dormitory. I was now in possession of a “Spiritual Itinerary of the Pilgrim” a handy ENglish Langauage Guide. My wandering became more purposeful.

The open space at the front had magnificent views enough to inspire anyone to praise the glories of creation.

I had a quick loook round but the place was very busy with pilgrims and tourists. I had felt a connection with Saint Francis as I walked through the forests and mountains but as yet I had yet to feel a connection here.

I did find the votive chapel and as I have done a couple of times on the journey I lit a candle for all those I am praying for. I started out with a small one but then decided a 3 euro large one might be more appropriate. You’re worth it!

I was in time for the daily procession to the Chapel of the Stigmata by the friars. I joined the service in the main church but with my lack of Italian I could only sit and listen. The friars were sitting in what we would call the choir behind the altar screen. It seemed to me that there was a barrier somehow. The procession started and went along the covered corridor to the chapel where there were some more prayers and readings . In the end I felt alienated rather than included. It did unsettle me.

I think it took gazining at a habit worn by Francis in conjunction with a visit to the grotto with the bed of Saint Francis to break through.

I became aware of my Franciscan vocation and it wasn’t a questioning of it more a sudden realisation of what I had to live up to. I had begun to feel a connection with Francis in some way.

I found my way to the Sasso Spico or Jutting out Stone where FRancis prayed it gives context to the stories I read about him that he loved these clefts of the rock to pray and get close to God. It put me in mind of that old hymn I was encouraged by a few weeks ago.

He’s hiding my soul in the cleft of the rock
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He’s hiding my life in the depths of his love
And cov’ring me there with his hand,
And cov’ring me there with his hand.

After more wandering and chatting to a few pilgrims it was time for my dinner. We were allocated tables according to some plan – I am not sure what. I was sat with a german coule who I had met crossing the river at the beginning of the day but their english was just a bit better than my German so it was not easy.

After dinner I met up with the Austrian pilgrim I had met a few days ago and he shared again his love of Saint Francis. I then bumped into an English couple who had just finished walking a different pilgrim route. WE had a great chat and I discovered I wasn’t the only one singing “How great Thou art” while walking. I was the last one back to the dormitory but despite yawning my way through the evening I couldn’t get to sleep.