Reflections on the daily 10:00 am Specola coffee break
When I first visited the Specola Vaticana in Castel Gandolfo in November 2022 after becoming the development director, I was exhausted. I’d come from Tucson, a nine-hour time difference, and hadn’t slept at all on the overnight transatlantic flight (does anyone?). Br. Guy kindly greeted me at the train station in Albano, showed me to the guest apartment, and said, “You are expected at coffee at 10 a.m.” Expected? I was so tired I didn’t know what planet I was on, let alone which continent.
But I realized that sleeping would only further confuse my internal clock, and a cappuccino might do me some good. So I put on a clean shirt, splashed some cold water on my face and walked into the caffeteria, a small but inviting room on the northern end of the Specola building.
I’m incredibly glad I did. And I’m glad I did so this morning, on another trip to the Specola. I’m here for some meetings, including to welcome a delegation from Fordham University, my alma mater, who also had a memorable moment with the Pope.
Work here pauses at 10 a.m. You can almost set your watch by it. When I first arrived, Specola Vice-Director Gabriele Gionti, S.J. taught me how to use the espresso machine, and I’m slowly becoming proficient. I still need to master milk-frothing, though.
Not only does work halt, work talk also ceases for the most part. I’m grateful for this too, as I still haven’t gotten over my jet lag, and as I’m frequent to remind people, I’m neither a Jesuit nor an astronomer. It’s only by the grace of God that I find myself entrusted with the wonderful work of raising funds for the Vatican Observatory Foundation.
Br. Guy walks in and makes himself an espresso. He’s just come from a meeting to plan an upcoming conference. “There were four conversations going on at once, all in Italian!” he exclaims. “But somehow, we got a lot done.”
Assunta and Gina, the cleaner and cook, laugh along with everyone else. I work on my nascent Italian with them. “Ho bisogno practicare,” I say. Clearly, I do; my grammar is off.
Image: Jesuit Brother Guy Consolmagno, director of the Vatican Observatory, prepares coffee during a break of the Vatican Observatory Summer School in Albano, Italy, June 20, 2023. (CNS photo/Lola Gomez)
Bob Macke, S.J., is there too, of course. You might know him through his Macke MakerSpace channel. When he’s not busy researching meteorites in his lab here, or serving on NASA’s OSIRIS-REx mission, he builds 3D printed models. Today, he updates me on his project to build an HO scale model of the Church of St Ignatius Loyola. While he studies rocks billions of years old, his state-of-the-art 3D printer is making pieces of the roof, one hour at a time. He shows me one piece, a few inches square. “This one took about eight hours,” he says. It’s a labor of love for him, and the level of detail is incredible.
After 15 minutes or so, people filter out as they finish their cappuccini, back to the important work of showing the world the Church’s support for scientific discovery. I leave, refreshed and invigorated, to go back to my inbox, grant proposals, and other quotidian tasks.
Next week, I’ll leave Italy again. I’ll miss many things, of course – but I’ll miss most of all the unexpected grace of a Specola coffee break.
About the Author:
Christopher Kennedy has served as the Executive Director of Development for the Vatican Observatory Foundation since March 2022. He is a native of Mystic, CT and a graduate of Fordham University.
