SABBATICAL TRAVELOGUE

​Dear people of God at Christ Lutheran Church,
 
Now that I’m a little over a third of the way through my sabbatical, I’m at a good time to update the community on what I’ve been doing and what you can expect to hear more about when I’m back in February.
 
As planned, I spent the first two and a half weeks of my sabbatical reading up on my topic and trying to re-learn how to relax. I made a few visits to the Dallas Museum of Art, which I am always fond of but had not been to in some time (the "infinity room" exhibit there, which runs through sometime in January, is worth a visit). I also made it to the Kimbell Museum in Fort Worth for the first time in five years. Their permanent collection is excellent, and I wanted to be sure to see the special exhibit "Myth and Marble,” a rarely exhibited sculpture and statuary from the Roman imperial period. 

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I finished a remarkable book about a single painting by my subject, Pieter Bruegel the Elder, called The Mill and the Cross by Michael Francis Gibson (adapted into a film we’ll hopefully watch when I’m back). I re-read a short book on another single painting. And to my brief but sharp dismay, I discovered that someone had done exactly my project — visiting all the existing paintings of Pieter Bruegel the Elder and writing about their locations and the experience of seeing them — at the same stage in his own life, published in 2020. I did read it, and it is good, though I think I have plenty to add to this genre.

On November 18, I took the new Silver Line to DFW and started my journey to Naples, Italy. Due to a flight delay and a reroute through Paris, I arrived quite late the following evening, but I quickly fell in love with this city. The Museo e Real di Capodimonte, where the two Bruegel paintings I was looking for are housed, is huge and imposing, a two-story maze of galleries that I got lost in. I ended up meeting two French art enthusiasts there—old friends who were wandering the museum and came into the Bruegel room just as I did. They eventually took me out, along with two Neapolitan locals, for the best pizza I’ve ever had. That’s a longer story, I promise you’ll hear all about it when I’m back (though I regrettably forgot to take a picture with them). I stopped at a half-dozen churches, toured catacombs, and climbed to the highest point in the city. It was all astonishing, and I can’t wait to tell you about it.

My next stop was Rome, where my family joined me, and I had one small early painting to see. Fortunately, it was in a museum--the Doria Pamphilj Gallery--which holds many paintings by Pieter Bruegel’s two artist sons (Pieter the Younger and Jan the Elder) as well as by contemporaries whose themes and styles Bruegel adapted for his own. It was very moving to me. And Rome itself is a living wonder, with layers of history everywhere. We were all quite struck by the excavation under the Basilica of Saint Clement, a working 12th-century church building on top of a 4th-century church, which itself is on top of a 1st-century building complex. 

We then traveled together to Munich, where Marina’s godparents live, and where two Bruegel paintings are on display that I missed in 2023 because I either had COVID or the museum was closed. After the mad bustle of Naples and Rome, Munich felt calm and much less touristy, though the Christmas markets were in full swing across the city. I got to spend time with the two paintings I was looking for, one major and one minor, plus the excellent whole collection of the Alte Pinakotek.

Then I was off to Vienna as my family headed home. Vienna is the biggest and best center of the surviving works of Pieter Bruegel the Elder. Twelve paintings (one now widely understood to be a copy by a later hand, not an original work) are in the Art History Museum, and two drawings (displayed in painstaking facsimile to protect the fragile originals) are at the Albertina Museum. I spent a whole day in the Art History Museum, which is overwhelming for someone with my fascination. The man at the audio guide desk had lived in Austin and been on Willie Nelson’s tour bus. 

Realizing that it would never cost less money, time, or frustration to get there, I decided on short notice to take a day trip to Budapest to see one painting at the city’s Museum of Fine Arts. The train ride is nearly three hours each way, but I am so glad I did it. The painting, “The Sermon of Saint John the Baptist,” turned out to be one of my favorites, for reasons I’ll try to explain later. In a wonderful museum with limited time available, I came to sit with it three separate times. I had to tear myself away. Budapest looked wonderful, so I hope I get the chance to return someday. 

Along the way, I kept up my morning prayer routine (using the Venite app, which participants in the Daily Prayer small group may remember). When circumstances required, I prayed on trains or planes or in hotel rooms. But I did take advantage of open churches to say my prayers at the Gesù and San Lorenzo in Naples, at Santa Maria in Trastavere in Rome, and at Saint Ulrich and the Karlskirche in Vienna. We worshiped at Saint Clement in Rome, and I made it to the last Mass of the day at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. When in Dallas, I’ve worshiped at Transfiguration and Epiphany Episcopal churches and at Saint Sarkis Armenian Orthodox in Carrollton. 
 
I deleted Facebook and Substack from my phone and didn’t bring my laptop on my trip, so I’ve had as little social media exposure during that time as any two-week period in several years. This has allowed me to read and especially to write. I’ve been filling in the notebook you sent me, partly with experiences and observations and partly with drafts or ideas for publication. This has been a very fruitful time for me, more than I can say. I promise you’ll hear more about all these places than you ever wanted to know. 
 
Throughout these weeks, I have been repeatedly moved by your generosity in granting me both this time and the material support to travel. When I’ve told the people I meet along the way about what I am doing and how I am doing it, they echo this valuation of your generosity. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. Try as I most certainly will to share it with you when I return, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express what it has meant to me.
 
I remember you in my prayers every day. I hope this has been a fruitful time at Christ as well, and I look forward to being with you again in February.
 
Grace and peace,
 
Pastor Ben