Even though it’s hot, I carry light “shrouds” in my bag so we can get into churches. Yesterday evening we went to Mass at San Marco. It was such a moving experience. I love going to Mass in foreign countries because you can follow the Mass because it’s in the same order, and even though you don’t understand the words, you can understand the cadences to know which part we’re in. It really makes me appreciate the long tradition of the Catholic Church and the small c catholic, as in universal, part of it. Just to sit there, hearing the words in Italian and Latin, picking out words, such as “cielo” and “padre” and “peccato” and “spiritu” was so reassuring. We kept turning our heads above us to the glittering golden mosaics and are so thankful to be here. Plus, unlike many church services in Italy, there was a fair number of Italians.