After turning over the duty responsibilities early in the morning, a few of my closest friends on the ship and I headed off to Napoli Centrale train station to start our Roman pilgrimage. We were a bit confused on how to get out tickets and maneuver ourselves at the station, but we finally figured it out and hopped aboard the Frecciarossa Italian fast train, traveling at 300 km/h and getting us to Rome in only 70 min. The beauty of the Italian countryside as we passed by continued to fuel my excitement for finally being in this part of the country. Though I’d been to Italy before, I had been in Taranto, far to the south, and never close enough to make this sought-after pilgrimage to the Eternal City.
Arriving at Roma Termini, we stopped for a café (a much-needed jolt of caffeine!) and got on the Metro to St. Peter’s Square to get to our hotel. We began walking south, seeing souvenir stores full of religious articles, getting approached by tour salesman left and right, and as we passed through the colonnades, I took in my first real experience of St. Peter’s Square. My heart skipped a beat—I couldn’t believe I was here. I’d spent my life seeing pictures and video of this place, so it felt familiar—but in no way did that prepare me for the reality of actually being there, standing in the Square on a very hot Roman day, taking in a deep breath of awe as I was finally “home.” I looked around and couldn’t even say a word. And this was only the beginning!
Continuing south, we checked into our hotel, a religious guest house run by the Trinitarian Fathers called Casa per Ferie at Santa Maria alle Fornaci. Simple and affordable accommodations for our little group—everything you need and nothing you don’t! We stopped for lunch at a nearby pizza bar and took advantage of the wifi hotspot to announce the beginning of our pilgrimage to dear ones back home. After recharging there (particularly in the air conditioning!) we made our way back to St. Peter’s. Though the line seemed long to get into the Basilica, it moved quickly, and before I knew it, we were stepping into that beautiful place and I was once again in awe. I knew what to expect there, but actually being there is totally different. We moved along the right side—the Pieta. Then was the altar of Blessed John Paul II, where I had my first moment to stop and kneel and pray. Blessed John Paul, pray for us, and may the generation you have raised do our part to propose Jesus Christ to the world. We continued moving forward and I made a visit to the Adoration Chapel. I entered that sacred space, present there before our Lord here in the heart of The Vatican, and was immediately moved to tears. As they poured from my eyes, they mixed with the sweat covering my face as I held my head in my hands and gave our Lord thanks and praise for the gift of bringing me here. Overwhelming.
My particularly memorable visits were before the statue of St. Philip Neri (for you, Fr. Baker!), Blessed John XXIII, St. Peter (yes I rubbed his foot!), St. Andrew the Apostle, St. Helena, a mosaic of St. Thomas Aquinas, the altar of St. Pius X, among so many others. Everybody there is looking up. Vertical worship—the way it is supposed to be! As I made my way through all the niches and nooks of the Basilica, I was moved with the sense of unity and belonging in this One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. I was reminded immediately of St. Joan of Arc’s words, when questioned about her faith at her trial: “About Jesus Christ and the Church, I simply know this: they are one thing, and we shouldn’t complicate the matter.” THIS is what it’s all about—tu es Petrus—and upon this rock, I will build My Church. Maneuvering to the little gift shop, you pass by the list of the popes dating back to Peter himself—how can you not be moved, even convinced by that? There’s a great story about Francis Cardinal George, who was pictured with a rather pensive look standing on the loggia of St. Peter’s following the election of Pope Benedict XVI in 2005. When asked about this, he responded: “I was gazing over toward the Circus Maximus, toward the Palatine Hill where the Roman emperors once resided and reigned and looked down upon the persecutions of Christians, and I thought, ‘Where are their successors? Where is the successor of Caesar Augustus? Where is the successor of Marcus Aurelius? And finally, who cares? But if you want to see the successor of Peter, he is right next to me, smiling and waving at the crowds.’” That was the reality of being there in Rome, particularly at St. Peter’s Basilica. We went down to the Grotto and then made the pilgrim climb up to the cupola of the Basilica for the breathtaking view of Rome. I’ll say, I think going down was scarier than coming up! It was well worth the steps and the sweat.
Exhausted and seeking a treat, we deemed it time for a water and gelato break, which was well-enjoyed by all. Flavor? Tiramisu, of course. The gang was not sure what to do next, now that we’d met our first priority of St. Peter’s, so I mentioned my next priority of going to St. Cecilia at Trastevere. We went by way of the Tiber, first walking down the Via della Conciliazione to Castel San Angelo (great memorial to St. Catherine of Siena near there, by the way!) and then turned right to walk along the river. It was quite a good walk down to the Trastevere neighborhood, but with a pilgrim’s heart, you can do anything. And luckily, my confreres were still fat and happy from our gelato stop. We finally made it to St. Cecilia’s, a beautiful church built on top of the home of that great early virgin martyr Cecilia. Once again, it was another place I’d seen many pictures of, but it was such a different feeling to actually be there. We thankfully made it in right before they were going to close; got to see the main church as well as excavations and the crypt chapel below. I spent some time in prayer before the main altar, which encases that beautiful statue of Cecilia’s martyrdom. I will share with you some of the fruits of my prayer. I’d been bringing some very specific intentions to all the places of this pilgrimage, but particularly here to St. Cecilia. After offering my thanks to the Lord for bringing me here, I asked Cecilia for her prayers, and asked some specific questions to her about my future and what she thought about it all. Her response, resonating deep within my heart, was this: I chose martyrdom. What about you? I wasn’t planning on sharing that in this medium, but I figure I’m not the only one who needs to hear that great advice. May our hearts be immaculate, and we shall not be confounded. Sancta Caecilia, ora pro nobis!
The trek back to our hotel was a bit daunting, because I got us lost—okay, maybe just “turned around.” What I thought would be a “more direct route” back towards The Vatican proved to be a bit confusing, as we made our way through neighborhoods and up and back down a huge hill. (I don’t even know what it was called!) Though my temperament was causing me to stress about getting us turned around, my friends were totally at peace and enjoying the journey. It’s not a pilgrimage without things like this! And, as I discovered upon getting back to the hotel, it’s not a pilgrimage without a massive amount of blisters--I think it’s time to retire my old Chacos!
1 comment:
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ~Maria
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