CASTEL GANDOLFO by Joe Castorino

June 2023

Just outside of Rome,

about ten minutes or so

after passing Due Santi,

where St. Peter and St. Paul met,

I got terribly twisted around

while driving on the convoluted roads

of venerable Castel Gandolfo --

in short, I was lost.

Sadly, I never found Ristorante Da Agnese,

where Sweetie Pie had previously dined

with her university class

(and where I now had luncheon reservations);

in fact, I never even got close.

Instead, I ended up on the other side of

Lago Albano, in the heart of

beautiful Castel Gandolfo --

but I was hungry,

very very hungry,

and I was struggling

to find another restaurant —

let alone find parking.

Well, I drove back and forth

along the main road,

along the top of the volcanic crater,

with its steep breathless drops-offs,

and I almost felt as if I were riding

a white-knuckler roller coaster.

Finally, I found a potential place

where I might be able to eat lunch:

Ristorante Gardenia --

but the big question was

would it be open.

So I stepped down into

what I thought would be

the lobby, but since the restaurant

was built into the hillside of the crater,

I suddenly found myself walking

down, down, down --

quite a long way.

Eventually, I found someone,

and in my best Italian,

I asked if they were open,

and if I could have lunch there.

They were very kind,

and they said they could serve me

in just a few minutes

after the kitchen was open.

So I waited out on the side balcony,

sitting comfortably on a sofa,

which faces the very top

of Castel Gandolfo,

where, just a short way up,

I saw the antiquated domes

of the Papal Palace’s Vatican Observatory

amidst the charming Italian buildings,

in lovely pastel shades,

and the lush greenery

that blanketed the hillside.

Soon, the smiling waiter

led me to my small little table,

right on the edge

of a very narrow balcony

that overlooked the lovely lake.

The balcony’s rail was of

black wrought iron,

and the large elegant lamps

that hung from the ceiling

reminded me of

the glory and grandeur

of the age of Christendom.

I placed my order,

and then looked out

over the glory of God,

stunning Lago Albano

in all of its magnificent beauty.

Truly, the views were

nothing short of spectacular,

and as the sun slowly strolled

through the afternoon sky,

the chameleonic lake

gradually seemed to change colors.

I saw emerald, aquamarine, teal, gray,

in the most wonderful shades imaginable,

and the colors varied

depending upon the light,

the angle of the light,

and the movement of the

dramatic dark storm clouds

that were gathering,

in the distance,

and, eventually,

over the lake itself.

First, the waiter brought

some refreshing Natía water,

with fresh-baked bread --

and being a bread lover,

I was a happy man.

Then, came the main course,

Gnocchi alla Sorrentina,

one of my favorite dishes,

and it was prepared to perfection --

in fact, it was a masterpiece,

from an aesthetic perspective

as well as a culinary perspective.

It was the perfect blend of

semolina dough and potato,

and the delicious pasta,

brimming in the cupped dish,

was elegantly served

in a light and mild tomato sauce

that was bursting with flavor;

it was topped off

with fresh fior di latte

and a lovely sprig of basilico --

I felt like a king.

Then, for dessert,

I tasted the finest Babà con Crema

that I have ever had,

a rum-soaked cake

in the shape of a brioche,

filled with sweet cream,

and served on an artistic plate

which was cratered with indentations

(presumably, to make it easier

for me not to miss a morsel

of this unforgettable pastry).

So as I reflected back upon my afternoon,

I asked myself the question,

Why did I allow my mind

to get all twisted around

when things didn’t go my way,

when I was not in control?

Why didn’t I trust in God,

the God of surprises,

who spent this entire trip

trying to teach me

that through trust

He would shower His

divine mercy upon me --

which He did, repeatedly --

even in the dark night

of unknowing?

ACT OF REPARATION by Joe Castorino

Prayer for First Saturdays (shared by Fr. Chris Alar, MIC)

O Most Holy Virgin,

And our Mother,

We listen with grief to the complaints

Of your Immaculate Heart,

Surrounded with the thorns placed therein

At every moment by the blasphemies

And ingratitude of ungrateful humanity.

We are moved by the ardent desire

Of loving you as our Mother,

And of promising a true devotion

To your Immaculate Heart.

We therefore kneel in spirit before you,

To manifest the sorrow we feel

For the grievances that people cause you,

And to atone by our prayers and sacrifices

For the offenses with which

They return your love.

Obtain for them and for us

The pardon of so many sins.

Hasten the conversion of sinners,

That they may love Jesus Christ,

And cease to offend the Lord,

Already so much offended.

Turn your eyes of mercy toward us,

That we may love God

With all our heart on earth,

And enjoy Him forever in Heaven.

Amen.

TO ST. TERESA OF AVILA by Joe Castorino

As a strong spiritual mother,

You reliably and respectably

Reformed the Carmelite order,

And your holy friendship

With St. John of the Cross

Helped your soul spiral upwards

Towards the Heavenly Kingdom;

Then, you closed your eyes and

Your spirit penetrated into the heart

Of the Interior Castle of prayer,

And there, during the dark night,

You discovered the true Light.

THE LIGHT OF THE WORD by Joe Castorino

“When Jesus finished these words, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.” (Matthew 7:28-29)

“Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword….” (Hebrews 4:12)

It is before mass,

Quiet and still,

And I wholeheartedly pray

As I prepare to proclaim

The magnificent Word of God,

For I am a lector today,

And so I sit in the third pew,

Close to the beautiful ambo,

Which stands in stately majesty,

High in the sanctuary.

The sonorous bell

Awakens me from prayer,

And I stand as the mass begins,

Then, after the relatively brief

Opening prayers of holy mass,

I walk towards the sanctuary

And slowly ascend the steps

Near the ambo,

The Dark One intensifies

His attacks upon me,

Vociferously and maliciously

Accusing me and taunting me.

I feel like Peter, stepping out of the boat,

Approaching Jesus on the water,

Because I know for a certainty

That if I take my eyes off the Lord,

I will swiftly sink and drown

In this insidious Sea of Lies.

But Our Lady takes me by the hand,

And leads me up the marble steps,

Urging me to strive for divine union

With the most holy Word of God,

And although I don’t see anything,

I can feel the warmth of His Love,

And the closer I get to His Word,

The more my heart leaps with joy.

Finally, I stand before His throne,

The throne of His Word,

And as I begin to proclaim

The Sacred Scriptures --

The Good, the True, the Beautiful --

I feel transformed by the fruit of the Spirit.

Then the Light of the World

Brilliantly and dazzlingly shines forth

From His Holy Word,

Filling the entire nave of the church

With the unfathomable Light of Divine Mercy,

And the unimaginably beautiful Light of Love.

And, thus, He generously opens

Our blind eyes and deaf ears,

And we recognize the presence

Of Our Savior and King,

The King of the Universe,

Who generously pours His wisdom

Into our weak, troubled minds,

And, lo, we too are now filled

With the Lord’s light.

But, to speak honestly,

I, a poor miserable sinner,

Recognize my own unworthiness;

For just as a donkey

Cannot take credit for the riches

Of gold and silver

That his good master

Piles upon his back,

I too can take no credit

For the shining forth

Of this great heavenly light.

After this holy encounter,

I don’t feel like the same person,

Indeed, my poor miserable life

Has been transformed by the Transfigured,

And, behold, my life --

Indeed all of our lives --

Are now a new creation!

TO ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS by Joe Castorino

A mystical priest, you are paradoxical:

Hated, you encountered Love,

Suffering, you experienced joy,

In trouble, you found peace,

Isolated, you surrendered in patience,

Maltreated, you felt kindness,

Kidnapped, you were generous,

Abandoned, you kept faith,

Abused, you replied with mildness,

Unknown, you became famous,

Imprisoned, you found freedom,

In the dark night, you discovered Light.

TO ST. IGNATIUS OF LOYOLA by Joe Castorino

It took a cannonball

For God to get your attention,

To teach you what it is 

To be a true knight --

A knight of Christ;

And so He guided you

In founding the Jesuit order,

And as the Light shone through

The colorful prism of your mind,

You discovered God’s beauty,

God’s goodness, God’s truth;

May your Spiritual Exercises

Draw us more deeply into

The Sacred Heart of Jesus,

To be intellectually illumined,

To be socially sympathetic,

To be aesthetically alive,

To be spiritually strong.

TO SAN JUAN DIEGO by Joe Castorino

Humility was your middle name,

So at Tepeyac to you she came;

You really didn’t know what to say,

Your only thought was to stop and pray;

You became Our Lady’s holy slave,

Always trustworthy, and very brave;

You saw sweet roses out of season,

The Virgin gave them for a reason;

Then you brought them to the bishop’s place,

The people filled with God’s dazzling grace;

As at your tilma everyone gazed,

The most wondrous sign left all amazed.

TO ST. THOMAS MORE by Joe Castorino

You were the Lord High Chancellor

  Under the infamous Henry the Eight,

At first you tasted the king’s friendship,

  But later on the sovereign’s hate;

You were a right honorable gentleman,

  With an intellectually sharp mind,

With courage you stood against the crown,

  For, sadly, it was spiritually blind;

So you were put in the Tower of London,

  A place that vile criminals dreaded,

You faithfully served the good God first,

  Thus, the monarch had you beheaded;

In this world, you bravely battled for truth,

  The people, you’d never mislead ‘em,

Now from Heaven you pray for us all,

  As the patron of religious freedom.

TO ST. CATHERINE OF SIENA by Joe Castorino

Inspired by the writing of this great saint

You stand atop a holy bridge,

A bridge that has several levels,

Like the historic Ponte Vecchio,

And the waves of the worldly waters

Are swarming with sea demons who

Obsessively seek souls to rip open

With their blade-like bloody teeth,

And their cold cadaverous claws,

To torture them in The Endless Death;

But some souls, through God’s grace, 

Cling to the edge of the first level

Of the bridge, dripping wet and

Shivering, terrified of going to hell,

So they clutch tightly to the bridge,

Fearing that they will fall back into

The turbulent black river of doom;

Other souls, through God’s strength, 

Climb up higher to the second level

Where they are safe from the evil

Threat below, in a place of serene

Consolation, where happiness can

Finally reign in their grateful hearts;

However, there are still others who

Through their passionate prayers 

And through total surrender

To Jesus’ most Holy Cross,

Climb to the top of the bridge,

And there -- yes, there! -- they are

Pierced by the overwhelming beauty

Of the magnificent heavenly realm,

Where Jesus’ peace surrounds them, 

Where Jesus’ joy enthralls them, 

Where Jesus’ love embraces them.

UNIVERSITEE EDUKATION by Joe Castorino

I’m gettin’ a good edukation,

Full o’ lots o’ rekreation;

Critical thinkin’ is not fer me,

Yet my grades ‘r’ ne’er below a “B”;

Pop’s big bucks send me here,

Mebbe I can stay another year;

I go to all the parties and football games,

Then I get drunk with the guys and dames;

The beautiful, good, and true???

Who cares! Just gimme a brew!

TO SANT' ANGELA DI FOLIGNO by Joe Castorino

Forty years in pursuit of 

Wealth and worldly respect,

Before you realized

It was all totally worthless;

But you made up for lost time

As the Wonder Counselor

Graciously removed the

Dead weight out of your life

So that you would be free,

Free to follow Him forever;

You generously gave away

Almost all you owned,

And Jesus sweetly filled you

With the fruit of the Spirit;

Like Augustine, too late

Did you know Him, but

Thanks to The Divine Mercy,

It’s never, ever too late

To finally find The Beautiful,

To finally find The Good,

To finally find The True:

God is love.

TO SANTA MARGHERITA DI CORTONA by Joe Castorino

You had a bewitching beauty,

And an intoxicating charm,

Their seductive magical spell

Gave you great power,

Power over the hearts of men,

Who fell head over heels in

Lust with you.

You loved it,

You loved the attention,

You loved the sense of control,

But, one day, as you walked

In the woods, your life was

Changed forever through

God’s mystical divine mercy.

You stumbled across the corpse

Of your dear beloved Arsenio,

And what fears then whirled

Through your agitated mind!

You reflected on the horrors of hell,

The suffering of unspeakable torments,

The wailing, lamentation, and despair!

Pricked by the pitchforks of

Painful recollection and also

Fear of the Living Death,

You fell to your knees and,

Like the penitent Magdalene,

You allowed the good God

To make you a new creation.

You became a Franciscan tertiary,

Serving the needs of the poor

In holy purity and simplicity,

Loving your holy Lord oh so

Deeply and passionately,

Wanting others to know the

Sweetness of intimacy with Him.

TO ST. BONAVENTURE by Joe Castorino

You were the genius blessed by God

Who spoke of the holy marriage of

Faith and reason, and, indeed,

What a fruitful couple they make.

You were the teacher blessed by God

Who showed that everything we do,

No matter how great or how small,

Should point us towards Heaven.

You were the diplomat blessed by God

Who brought Light to the Franciscan order, 

And as the sagacious Seraphic Doctor,

You were an instrument of God’s peace.

TO SANT' ANTONIO DI PADOVA by Joe Castorino

They knew you as a Franciscan friar,

And your wise words lit in them a fire;

You preached to the fish when men wouldn’t hear,

They leaped from the water, filled with good cheer;

Then some envious men poisoned your cup,

They stared, aghast, when you drank it all up;

Before you heretics always cower,

Since through you God shows His mighty power;

When we really feel we have lost our mind,

Your passionate prayers help us Jesus find.

TO ST. CLARE OF ASSISI by Joe Castorino

Your exquisite bright blue eyes

   are soft and serene,

 Beholding the remarkable

   richness of God’s creation;

Your honey hair cascades

   over your shoulders like a

Wonderful waterfall of God’s

   ineffable, indelible love;

Yet you choose to be a

   princess of holy poverty,

And your only wish is to

   sweetly serve in simplicity;

You are a faithful friend to

   the good Saint Francis,

As you both sacrificially surrender

   to Jesus the Just;

You are a merciful mother

   to the nuns of San Damiano,

As you guide them in purity

   and prudence and peace;

You are a beauteous bride

   to Christ the Courageous,

And your soul is bedecked with

   the precious pearls of virtue;

As you fervently follow in the

   footsteps of Our Loving Lord,

May we too live on in

   the laudable light of Christ.

TO ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI by Joe Castorino

Your jolly, joyful eyes dreamily dance

  to the sublime, saintly symphony

Of the unimaginably beautiful creations

  of the Most High Lord God;

Your pious, prayerful persistence

  and earnest embrace transform the

Leprous lechery of our lives into

  the radiant Son-shine of lasting love;

Your voice, like a melodious and

  musical church bell, resonates and

Reverberates throughout the ages

  with the clarity and purity of truth;

Your simple, kindly actions speak

  louder than the sonic boom of the

Ghastly gossip and eloquently

  empty chatter of the world.

TO ST. BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX by Joe Castorino

Good St. Bernard, you love

Our Lord and Our Lady so much:

You were a sincere confessor,

But in the confessional, 

You were too severe,

Far far too severe,

And so the Spirit taught you

Gentleness, sweet gentleness;

Maybe it was from you that

St. Francis de Sales learned,

For he so famously said that

We will catch more flies 

With a spoonful of honey

Than with a barrelful of vinegar.

PRAYER OF SUFFERING IN THE DARK NIGHT by Joe Castorino

O Jesus,

Where are you, my Lord?

How suddenly I have lost sight

Of you, my sweet sweet love;

I long for holy union with you,

Yet I cannot feel your presence;

I suffer for weeks and weeks,

But there is no remedy for me;

I wholeheartedly long for you,

But I am stranded in the desert,

Hungry for you, thirsty for you;

Though your light ever shines,

I am surrounded by gloom

In the dark night of unknowing;

Dearest Jesus,

Help me to be courageous,

Like good St. Joseph;

Sweetest Jesus,

Help me to have great trust,

Like Our Lady of Love;

I surrender myself completely

Into your most holy hands.

Amen.

TO ST. AUGUSTINE by Joe Castorino

You were the man

with the brilliant mind,

Yet our sweet Savior

you simply couldn’t find;

Intelligence and power

are what you admired,

Because that’s the way

your brain was wired;

So your mother introduced you

to bishop Ambrose the Wise,

And thus pride in your heart

very suddenly dies;

You were forever changed

when you encountered Love,

From then on your writings

spoke of the Way of the Dove.

TO ST. PATRICK by Joe Castorino

You’re a stout lad from the big Scottish isle,

A future bishop without any guile;

Kidnappers take you away from your home,

Across a sea that ripples with white foam;

In Ireland you are made a poor slave,

Life is rough, though you try hard to be brave;

You draw close to God and He sets you free,

At last with your eyes your homeland you see;

You return to Ireland so smart, so wise,

And clearly reveal all the devil’s lies;

You pray “Christ on my left, Christ on my right,”

And you help the Irish find the true Light.