a different approach to the same sacred union

Saturday I was truly honored to attend the wedding of my dearest Department of Italian-grad-student-friend’s sister.  It was held at the Madonna della Difesa church in Little Italy, a church founded-and-attended by immigrants from Molise, a southern province of Italy.  I arrived early, just as the florists were finishing up placing the white star lilies and white bows on the pews.  The church was stunning (as are most Catholic churches), with white marble everywhere, and vivid frescoes on the ceiling.  The Stations of the Cross were covered in gold, and the darkly-hued crucifix was a focal point, towering above everything.  The prayers were led in Italian, and the homily said in English, though with a heavily-Italian-tinged accent.  I was thankful for the priest’s words—encouraging the couple to find their source of love in the only One whose love is eternal, Jesus Christ.  His words were hard, not a typical, polished and lovey-dovey sermon, but they were solid.  He broke up the severity of the message with anecdotes and funny comments.  I found a bit more common ground with that particular Catholic church, with that particular priest, and was thankful to have attended my first Italian Catholic wedding.  The Ave Maria (complete with a stunning soprano performance) and other traditional wedding songs were gorgeous and elaborate.  I was struck by the formality of the event and enjoyed watching the guests arrive and seat themselves, dressed in beautiful attire. 

 

After the mass and greeting my friend, the maid of honor, I walked to the Jean Talon Market, which is the largest farmer’s market in town and was dazzled by the beautiful fresh fruits and vegetables and flowers.  I love the fact that Little Italy and the Market are only a half-hour Metro ride away.  Though I miss the mountains and sunsets of Colorado, I really do love urban life and all the wonderful experiences, sights and sounds of this colorful city.