What’s with all the dead guys?

A blog post by Maria Rocha, Spring 2011

“What’s with all the dead guys?”

I’ve thought those very words about a hundred times this semester. It started in Vienna and Salzburg and continued to plague me all the way to Rome and Assisi.

You’d think that out of ten days of pure splendor I would dwell on anything but dead guys. However, how can I sum up ten days of glorious art, pasta, and prayer into a single blog post? I dwell on this grave subject (pun totally intended) because the calories from the pasta will leave me and the facts I stored up about the art will pass from my recollection. However, the impact of these so-called “dead guys” upon my life will not.

Such a close proximity to the dead, especially the very long dead made me really uncomfortable. I couldn’t figure out why they would want to celebrate the Eucharist so close to a dead, though holy, person.

I’ll never forget praying at the Infant Jesus of Prague Shrine. There I knelt, hands clasped, eyes shut, praying earnestly. I crossed myself when I was done and peacefully opened my eyes. I immediately noticed the corpse I had previously overlooked. The black skeleton covered in jewels looked, quite frankly, like something out of the Pirates of the Caribbean. Naturally, I gasped and stood up quickly.

This was my mistake. I didn’t take time to think about or even wonder whose skeleton it was or why they were given eternal rest in a shrine. I didn’t question. I only dismissed.

Months later, as we church hopped in Rome like Americans at closing sales in a mall, the presence of the “dead guys” did not leave me. There were dead guys in every single church. However, the more I reflected on just who these dead were to our faith, I realized that their continuing presence enriched the Church.

At the Papal audience, I was overjoyed to be in such close proximity to the Pope as he spoke to each of us in our own language. Later, at the tomb of John Paul II it dawned on me. I can’t just be excited about the living. Things like martyrdom, holiness, self-sacrifice and love do not become any less significant with death. These extraordinary people are kept so that common people like me will one day continue to believe and strive for that same holiness. These dead are concrete examples of the transforming power of Christ, who is the ultimate “dead guy” because He’s not dead anymore.

Though it seemed that we were running from one basilica to another in search of the next holy spectacle, it became clear to me that we weren’t just hunting relics or racing from place to place aimlessly. We were chasing the opportunity to be closer to the tangible, the closest remains of the reason we call ourselves Catholic and Franciscan. We were searching for bits of ourselves.

However, in the midst of a whirlwind of activity, I felt overwhelmed. By the end of Rome, I was on overload and could not process anymore.

When we arrived in Assisi, I lost myself and wandered aimlessly alone for hours. I withdrew. Now my frantic search was not in the streets of a city but within myself. I sat on a wall overlooking Assisi and wrote for hours. I wrote searching for the reason that such incredible experiences hollowed me out. I was not in ecstasy after climbing the same steps Jesus climbed to Pilate. I didn’t think I was any different after being in the same places that so many saints walked. It all seemed so complicated. The art in St. Peters and the mountains of marble sculpture seemed too complex to really reach me.

Then, as I sat alone in quaint Assisi, a city that could be defined by its simplicity and is remembered by a simple man, I came to understand what all the dead guys, marble, elaborate art, and overall ruckus we make over our faith. So, I continued to write:

“It seems that the sun itself gets joy from looking at Assisi. It’s not like the Texas sun that is so intense you boil in seconds or like the Steubenville sun that is non-existent at this time of year. No, it’s a soft warmth that kisses you hello and holds you as long as you’ll stay. It holds you without smothering you but never leaves you, never loses touch. I’ve found Him and I don’t want to move. I want to sit here, rooted until the sun goes down. But I won’t wither in this sun like grapes. No, I will bask.”

God is as simple as the sun. It’s really not that complicated. It shouldn’t be, for us. It wasn’t for all the “dead guys” and it certainly wasn’t for Christ. They had one goal, one focus, and it had nothing to do with where they would be laid post mortem. They lived. They focused on life and how to really be alive. They focused on the only person who does not pass. They lived simply and they lived for love.

The Church Needs her Priests: A Visit to the PNAC

A blog post by Dan McNally, Spring 2011.

Ever since he was a small child, my brother has known that he was called to God's priesthood. It has just been taken for granted in our family that my brother would follow that path. Today, he lives in Rome at the North American College (PNAC), a seminary to which various dioceses across the North American continent as well as a few select additional locations send young seminarians to prepare for the priesthood. The PNAC is nestled atop a hill overlooking the eternal city, with a view right down on St. Peter's. That's what

I saw from the rooftop during the time I spent with my brother there.

Many PNAC seminarians, once in Rome, are not allowed to return home until the summer following their second year. Understandably, I was excited to see my brother after 17 months, not having seen him prior to this semester since my first day of school as a freshman at Franciscan.

In St. Peter's Square on Sunday morning, I met a mutual friend of ours, a seminarian from home by the name of Francis. I was to attend Mass at the acolyte installation ceremony at the college that day, a ceremony in which my brother and several other young men would be taking part. We walked the short journey through the tunnels to the school, and arrived on the beautiful campus. The grounds outside the building itself are wonderful. I could spend hours just sitting and thinking out there. The grass is so green, and the trees are beautiful. In a way it’s indescribable but undoubtedly very peaceful too. Whoever is the groundskeeper there deserves a raise! The chapel in which Mass is celebrated is gorgeous. The lower walls are covered with several depictions of scriptural events in which angels were sent to intercede or carry a message. The fiery forms renewed my awe for the angelic. The upper walls offered a set of stone Stations of the Cross. The wall behind the altar boasted a magnificent mosaic of our lady crowned in heaven, surrounded by the angels. The Mass was very long, but so reverent and powerful. It is a peculiar feeling to sit, stand, and kneel in a room filled to the brim with men in all black, while you wear a light sweater, khaki pants, and boast an unruly bottle brush of hair on your head. The sound of the voices coming together in song and prayer spoke to the glory of God's creation.

We all ate lunch in the dining hall, which was outstanding. It must have been that they knew there were visitors. Of particular interest among the guests was renowned Catholic author George Weigel, who I had the pleasure to meet toward the end of my stay. Later on I had the privilege of touring St. Peter's Basilica with seminarian Ted Martin,and later on, the Scavi Tour led by my brother. The first tour takes visitors through the church itself, explaining the rich history of the art and the holy ones buried there. The Scavi Tour, on the other hand, takes visitors underneath the church to the excavation site of early Christian tombs. Both are a must see if you plan to visit Rome.

Our first night was one of my favorites. My brother and I took a walk down the Tiber River to Sacre Cuore del Suffragio, also known as the “Purgatory Church”. This church was where, several years back on pilgrimage, my mom received her first communion. It has a special place in our hearts, and it was a wonderful feeling to be back. After praying a holy hour there, my brother and some of the other men from the college took me out to dinner at a traditional Italian restaurant, which, though I bemoaned the miniscule serving size, was of quite high quality. Afterwards, we paid a visit to Old Bridge(another must see...and eat), a gelateria just outside of the Vatican walls, which is known for its incredible serving sizes at affordable prices. If my dinner was small, the massive “medium” sized gelato certainly made up for it.

I stayed the night at the college, which was fun, mostly because I was fortunate enough to use their showers, which are quite impressive. I have never had a bigger drying towel in my life! The next day, I had the opportunity to go along with the guys to their classes at the Gregorian University in Rome. You know people live in Rome when on the walk to class, someone can say, “Oh, by the way, Teresa of Avila is in there, but we have to hurry.” The path to the “Greg” as they call it, wound its way through the tight alleys of the city, giving a view of another side of Rome, albeit still a beautiful side. After walking for almost a half an hour, we turned a corner, and there an enormous columned stone building faced us, and we headed inside. All the classes that I sat in on were in Italian, which more or less forces the seminarians to learn the local language, whether they like it or not. On the way back, we picked up some gelato at a seminarian favorite, “The Fridge”. It was quite good.

In a medium size, I was able to get three flavors with a complementary chocolate shell on top. What a joy.

That night, my brother and I headed back to my hotel where the group was eating dinner. When we arrived, there was a long silence, and then thunderous applause filled the dining hall. For a moment I was confused, and then I realized that I had just gotten a haircut for the first time in a great while, and apparently this made people very happy. There you go. From then, we had to say goodbye, but the experience with the seminarians was great. They are all such gentle men of God, and whatever dioceses they will eventually serve are fortunate indeed.

Families, friends, readers-as always, you are in our prayers! God

bless you.

Dan

Mid-Terms & Rome

A post by Brandon Otto, Spring 2011

Grüß Gott!

A lot has happened in Austria over the past few weeks: namely, midterms and the Rome/Assisi Pilgrimage. Midterms led to lots of studying on everyone’s part. To me, at least, they were rougher than on main campus, possibly due to their being almost entirely essay tests. Also, the fact that we only have mid-terms and finals in most classes means we don’t have much chance to learn how a teacher tests: it makes these exams much more strenuous and exacting. Once midterms were finished, though, we had a break for our taxed minds: the 10-day Rome/Assisi pilgrimage.

Though many people left earlier to visit various other locales in Italy (I heard Naples and San Giovanni mentioned frequently), I traveled down to Rome on the bus provided by the school. It was a long ride, about 14 hours, including stops, but the multiple movies watched (The Count of Monte Cristo, starring Jim Caviezel of The Passion fame and Guy Pearce of Memento fame, and Roman Holiday, a 1953 film starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck) helped time pass, as did talking with friends. Driving through the Italian countryside was a beautiful experience: there’s just a special beauty that separates Italy from other countries. Whereas the Austrian country is much more mountainous and snow-covered, the Italian country is more characterized by olive groves and grape vines and farmland.

After the long drive, we arrived in Rome Saturday morning. We were actually earlier than our scheduled time, so we had to wait a while for the hotel to be ready for us to check-in. After check-in, a friend and I familiarized ourselves with the metro system (a very important aspect of Rome) by travelling to the Ottaviano stop, that is, the Vatican City stop, to see the Vatican Museums. Our hotel was only about a 10 minute walk (down roads my friend said reminded him of Florida) to the nearest metro stop: this closeness was definitely appreciated it. After arriving at our metro destination, my friend and I didn’t know which way to go from the station. We hadn’t done any research whatsoever: we just knew which stop to go to. He picked a way that “looked historical,” and, thankfully, the road led us straight to the Vatican. We knew we were going the right way when we passed countless people offering tours of the Vatican Museums and St. Peter’s Basilica. After dodging these many salesmen, we located the entrance to the Museums, or should I say the queue to the Museums? One of the salesmen wasn’t kidding when he described the line as 400 meters long. Thankfully, we arrived early in the day, and the line moved fairly quickly, so the wait was only an hour or so, at most. The light rain didn’t make the wait very comfortable, but running into other Franciscan students helped pass the time. Once we finally made it through the line and through security, we spent a few hours wandering the Vatican Museums. These Museums, originally started by Pope Julius II in 1506, are very large. It didn’t take long to lose our way in the Museums: our group eventually just decided to see every room we could, and that meant a lot of rooms. After seeing maybe a dozen rooms full of statuary and other Greek and Roman antiquities, we arrived in the areas we were somewhat more interested in, the rooms full of Christian art. The Raphael Rooms, in particular, were decorated, floor to ceiling (sometimes including both floor and ceiling) with paintings depicting countless Christian scenes, such as the Baptism of Constantine, and even some pre-Christian scenes, such as the famous painting of The School of Athens with Plato and Aristotle. Eventually, after travelling through these rooms and the rooms housing contemporary art, we arrived at the jewel of the Vatican Museums: the Sistine Chapel, painted by none other than Michelangelo. The Chapel (which felt much smaller than we expected) was breathtaking in its artistic splendor, and it was jam-packed with people, so much so that we lost a member of our group there, not finding him again until dinner. After spending probably a half hour admiring the great work of Michelangelo, we decided it was time to leave and see more of Rome. Upon leaving the Museums, we had a common lunch for our Italian journey: pizza and gelato. Rome has excellent pizza (although I’ve been told that the pizza in Naples is the best in the world), and the gelato (an Italian form of ice cream) is phenomenal as well, with many unique flavors (such as Bailey’s Irish Crème, Nutella (a popular European spread with the flavor of chocolate and hazelnuts), and Ferrero Rocher (a popular Italian candy)). I myself am partial to the flavor of hazelnuts, so I always made sure to get some type of hazelnut-flavored gelato whenever I bought some.

Upon returning to the hotel, we rested until Mass at a nearby convent and dinner following at the hotel. I missed the dessert provided with dinner, because I decided to join two of my friends in going to an opera at St. Paul’s Inside the Walls (an Anglican-Episcopalian church that should not be confused with St. Paul’s Outside the Walls, a major basilica of Rome). The opera was La Traviata, by the famous Italian opera composer Giuseppe Verdi. While both the singers and orchestra were great, the acoustics in the church were not so great, and the sound balance made the opera not as enjoyable as we expected. The opera kept us out late, so as soon as it ended we headed straight back to the hotel to crash: the long bus ride and long day made us absolutely exhausted!

Sunday was centered around St. Peter’s Basilica. We had time to explore it in the morning, including climbing the cupola and seeing the Tombs of the Popes, and we had a Latin Novus Ordo Mass in the very front of the basilica (complete with beautiful chant). Following Mass, we met in St. Peter’s Square to pray the Angelus with Pope Benedict XVI; though he was in a very high window, it was still amazing to pray with him and so many other Catholics from various countries joined in the square. After time for lunch, we had tours of the basilica, guided by seminarians from the Pontifical North American College, a college in Rome where many seminarians will study for a year or so during their formation (my archdiocese often sends a few seminarians a year there, though I didn’t run into any I knew). Learning about so much of the art and history in the basilica was a great experience, and I’m sure there’s so much more information we could have learned. Following the tour, my friends and I decided to visit Ostia Antica, a first-century Roman town—nicknamed “the Pompeii of Rome”—that’s been well-preserved as an archaeological site. It’s well off the beaten path, and we made it with only a half hour left until closing, although we managed to stick around for an hour before finally being shuffled out. Though it took lots of travelling (and the missing of a free dinner at the hotel), it was worth it. The town was incredibly expansive (we didn’t manage to reach the far end of it), including many, many houses and other buildings, statuary and stone columns, and even a large amphitheater. It was an amazing experience to walk the rough stone roads and meander through the buildings of first-century Romans. I’d highly recommend Ostia Antica for anyone visiting Rome.

Monday included the first of our long tours of Rome. We began at the Colosseum and the Roman Forum and then toured many major churches throughout the city. Included were St. Peter in Chains, which houses (as the name indicates) the chains that held St. Peter when he was jailed (both in Jerusalem and in Rome), Santa Maria Maggiore (St. Mary Major), which includes the relics of St. Matthias and St. Jerome, Santa Prassede, originally a house church dating back to the earliest days of Christianity, now containing thousands of relics and a section of the pillar at which Jesus was scourged, and St. Clemente, a multi-level church that includes an early house church and remnants of a pagan temple underneath that we could walk through. The tour involved lots of walking, but it was definitely worth it. The other big part of the day was the Scavi Tour, which explores the Necropolis (“City of the Dead,” or Roman burial place) underneath St. Peter’s Basilica. That was an amazing experience, but I’ve been told to not reveal the secrets of the tour. You’ll just have to go yourself! The rest of the day, for my friends and I, consisted of mainly resting after all the business we’d been through the past few days. There’s a lot to do in Rome!

Tuesday began with a continuation of our tour of Rome. We saw many famous churches, so many that I only have time to recount a few. The tour began at St. Mary of the Angels and Martyrs, a Carthusian church designed by Michelangelo that was built atop ancient Roman baths that used to line the street where it’s located. Throughout the tour, we saw other works by famous Italian artists, including Bernini’s famous statue of Ecstasy of Saint Teresa and Michelangelo’s Christ the Redeemer (at Santa Maria della Vittoria and Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, respectively). After stopping by the Trevi Fountain, we saw the Pantheon (a former Roman temple turned into a church) and the church of St. Agostino, where St. Monica is buried. I left out one incredibly famous church at the beginning of the tour, though: the Capuchin Boneyard Church, located next to the Church of St. Mary of the Immaculate Conception. The crypt contains the bones over 4,000 Capuchin friars, many of them used to decorate the walls in designs such as the coat of arms of the Franciscan Order. While it feels a bit macabre, it shows how Christians have no fear of death because of our hope in the resurrection.

Following the tour, I joined a group of students heading to Nettuno, a coastal city which was the hometown of St. Maria Goretti, a young girl in the early 20^th century who was killed by her neighbor for resisting his sexual advances. She is a martyr who protected her chastity at the expense of her life, and she is venerated by the Church for this, and for the holiness of her life in general. Her relics are contained in the Basilica of Santa Maria delle Grazie e Santa Maria Goretti. The other students and I travelled the 1 ½ hour trip to venerate her relics, because she is such an amazing saint. After venerating her relics, our group spent the rest of the time until our train back to Rome enjoying the beach of the Mediterranean Sea. After a long trip back to the hotel, a late dinner, and a walk to get extra gelato (since it was Mardi Gras), we returned to the hotel for a long-desired rest before the beginning of Lent (and our last day in Rome) the next day.

I have lots more to recount, but I also have homework and classes, so I’d better leave the rest of the trip for another day (although hopefully it won’t take me too long to write again). Until next time, God bless! Auf wiedersehen!

Glories of Italy

A blog post by Dan McNally, Spring 2011

The Gaming students have returned from our ten-day journey through Italy. I would be quite impressed if any of my fellow bloggers are able to encompass their entire experience in one post. I will attempt to express the highlights in two separate posts. One will describe my experience at the North American College, where many seminarians, including my older brother, study in preparation for the Catholic priesthood. This particular post will cover what I consider three spiritual highpoints of my experience in Italy: The exposure to the saints and the connection to our history and heritage, the hermitage of St. Francis of Assisi, and the Eucharistic miracle at Lanciano.

Arriving in Rome was, as I suppose it is for many Catholics, like coming home: more so for me as my family had been to Rome on pilgrimage just a few years back. The profundity of the splendor of Rome is unchanging. They say that if one drops a line straight down from the cupola of St. Peter’s Basilica, it would reach St. Peter’s tomb. The majesty of this city, in combination with the richness of being the heart of God’s Church on earth, gives me the impression that the line continues up through the cupola and right into heaven itself. There really is nothing like standing before the dome of St. Peter’s while walking in the footsteps of the men and women we’ve only ever read about. We saw more saints in just a few days than many people see in their entire lives. Upon visiting St. Luke’s tomb in Padua just days before, a friend of mine told me, “I just prayed a Hail Mary before the tomb of the man who wrote it.” Standing (but mostly kneeling) in these churches, before the (sometimes incorrupt) bodies of the witnesses who have gone before us marked with the sign of faith, one cannot help but feel a very real connection to the faith that sometimes resides only in the mind. Looking at St. Anthony’s incorrupt tongue, seeing the tunic of St. Francis, seeing the very bones of Peter, the one to whom Christ entrusted the keys of His kingdom, brought the reality of truth even closer to my mind and heart. These are not men in a story on a page. These were human beings who ate, drank, bled, cried, and lived--truly lived to the fullest. They could be touched, they could be spoken to. This is no out-of-date Church of antiquity; this is the Church of the living God.

The time in Rome was incredible, but the fast paced city, crowded metro, and exhaustive touring had taken a toll on the student body. The peaceful countryside, the rarefied and holy air of Assisi awaited us. Upon arriving, we immediately began with a tour of the Portiuncula Church (St. Mary of the Angels) in lower Assisi. There we prayed in the famous portiuncula, after which our adoration chapel on the main Steubenville campus is modeled. Apart from tours, students enjoyed various activities including the famous Mauro, who would give students very good discounts for his leather products. Gelato and delicious meals were also enjoyed.

On Friday, we were led just outside of town to a path that led up the side of the mountain on which Assisi was built. We were told this mountain path led to the hermitage where Francis and some of his brothers would go to pray in solitude. The walk was nearly silent, as students meditated and prayed the whole way. I realized soon that this path was a consistent incline, and it was not letting up. Sometimes I walked alongside friends, and sometimes paces changed, and I found myself alone and exhausted. Sometimes there was shade, and sometimes the sun beat down. Quickly, a theme started developing. I saw this journey as the Christian walk. The walk is always uphill, because with God as our goal, we must always move upward towards Him. I thought during this time that Calvary, too, was no small hill. We all carry our crosses with Christ at our side. This upward walk is not easy, and so too, the Christian life can be a struggle for the one who takes seriously God’s call to holiness, but who better to walk alongside than Christ? Sometimes we walk with friends by our side offering encouragement, and sometimes we walk alone, because our pace will not always match up. In all these times, we grow. As I walked, though, I could almost hear St. Francis speak to me, “Brother Daniel, keep on moving--Just a little further.” Times when I felt tired and in pain I saw analogously as the attempts of the devil to convince the Christian that it is not worth the climb: that his struggle is in vain. Once we reached the hermitage, we realized that the climb was worth it. Here we were at peace. A small stone building tucked away into a vast forest along the side of a great mountain became our place of rest--that resting place that points to the rest and peace of final beatitude. Many paths wound through the forest and met each other. As I walked, I was blessed to see friends sitting and praying in silent, joyful contemplation. Something was encouraging in seeing them there, in sharing this vision with them. Some I walked by and quietly acknowledged, but not a word was spoken. Words were not necessary. What must God have prepared for those who love Him?

Leaving Assisi was not easy to do, but with friends by my side, I headed to Lanciano, seeking out Jesus Christ in the flesh. The site of arguably the greatest Eucharistic miracle in history, Lanciano is a small Italian town on the eastern coast. A doubtful priest was celebrating Mass, and at the consecration, the consecrated host became flesh and the wine became real blood. Extensive scientific testing have confirmed the veracity of the account, and given more information on it. It is a fascinating story.

Traveling with my three roommates brought much joy and laughter, which was needed as our journey was fraught with trials and opportunities for patience. After just a few short train rides, we arrived in a train station where a five-hour overnight layover waited with brandished fangs. There was no real danger, but being in a cold train station with very shady, and sometimes loud, drunk, and rude individuals through the heart of the night was disconcerting to say the least. We had gone from the sublimity of Assisi to the dregs of “the real world”. At our next stop we missed our train on account of not knowing Italian. Eventually, we reached the Lanciano train station, but we needed to take a bus to reach the town. Now from 12:00-3:00, the chapel is closed, and the miracle is not open for public viewing. Our 25 minute bus ride began at 11:30 and the only bus back was before 3:00. We had just spent an entire night with two five-hour layovers and a missed train to now not reach our destination. For a moment I was demoralized, but I realized in that moment, seeing the Eucharistic miracle was not what life was about. I realized in that moment that I should be grateful for what I do have, a family that loves me, great friends who are willing to put up with me in travels, a God who longs for me every second that I breathe. If I just wasted one day and a lot of Euro, it really wasn’t a waste, because I am blessed beyond compare. However, we did try the bus, and not only was the chapel open when we arrived, but it remained open during the Mass that was being celebrated. We adored our Lord while the Italian congregation sang aloud God’s praises. In our moment of doubt, God came through for us, and revealed his body and blood to us in a profound way. What better way to experience the miracle of Lanciano than by experiencing the priest’s doubt, only to be surprised by God’s providence.

Well, certainly I have been long-winded enough. Hopefully some of this has been appreciated and perhaps helpful or edifying by God’s grace. These experiences certainly moved me in a big way. All you readers please be assured of our prayers for you. You are loved and missed, but we are all together in Christ, and we will see you soon! God be with you!

New Life in Rome & Assisi

A blog post by Kat Schluter, Spring 2011

Rome and Assisi--what better place is there to begin our penitential journey to Easter? This past week we were so blessed to be able to spend time in the home of our Catholic faith--Rome, Italy. Amidst pounds of pasta lathered in olive oil and mouth-watering chocolate gelato, we were welcomed into the arms of the Church, and we journeyed to some of the most famous places in the history of civilization.

For me, the most striking element of our whole pilgrimage was the fact that we were able to truly delve ourselves into the Lenten season right from the beginning, with various elements of our journey pointing to the Cross of Christ. We began Ash Wednesday with a papal audience, where our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, reminded us that the Lord is calling us to conversion and repentance and that we must take up our crosses and follow Christ. With convicted hearts, we continued our Ash Wednesday celebration by climbing (on our knees) the stairs on which Christ walked while being sentenced to death. It was extremely powerful to experience this reminder of the suffering of our Lord, especially right at the beginning of Lent. After climbing the holy stairs, we got to spend time in Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, which contains pieces of the true cross of Christ, two thorns from Jesus’ crown of thorns, one nail used in the Crucifixion, and other important artifacts from the passion of Jesus. I don’t think there could have been a better

way for us to begin Lent, since these elements of the pilgrimage pointed us towards that which we are working--to unite our sufferings to Jesus’ sufferings so that we can be truly one with him forever in heaven.

A classic and important example of someone who unites his sufferings to Christ’s sufferings is St. Francis of Assisi, and it was his example that led us to the second part of our pilgrimage--Assisi, Italy. The life of St. Francis was full of trials and sacrifices, and through following in his footsteps in Assisi, we were able to see the actual places in which Francis modeled the love and passion of our Lord. Assisi was a place of the outpouring of so much grace into our hearts, and I am pretty sure that nearly everyone experienced God’s presence and his peace profoundly, in some way or another.

One thing that struck me today in prayer as I was thinking about Assisi in relation to Lent was the fact that we got to see St. Clare’s hair that St. Francis cut for her once she decided to give her life to the Lord. Encased in a clear box, her long golden locks were a symbol of the death Clare experienced to the world and the life she gained in Christ. St. Clare’s hair wasn’t the only hair we’ve seen on display on our Austria journey, however. In Auschwitz, there was a whole room dedicated to an exhibit of the hair of thousands of the prisoners of the concentration camp. Also encased by a clear box, this enormous pile of hair was just a small sign of the evils human beings can bring upon other human beings. Both displays--the one in Assisi and the one in Auschwitz--were a symbol of death, in one way or another. The hair found in Auschwitz was a sign of the weight of the sins of humankind and that these sins lead to death. The hair of St. Clare, however, was a reminder of the human being’s capacity to choose life in Christ by dying to the world. When Clare cut off her hair, she was rejecting everything that could have taken her away from Jesus. By Clare’s death to the world and to the temptations of the flesh, she was brought to a new life in the things of heaven, a life in the Sacred Heart of Christ. This is the Christian paradox presented to us in the season of Lent. It is in turning from our sins and denying ourselves that we are able to turn to God and choose life. By dying, we live.

I hope that in this season of Lent, all of the students here in Gaming will be open to receiving a new life in Christ. We must remember that in order for this to happen, we have to die to ourselves and to the world. Only Christ gives true life. May we follow the examples of St. Francis and St. Clare of Assisi in choosing life by rejecting sin, taking up our crosses, and following Jesus.

Rome at Night

There are few places as romantic or as exciting as Rome in the evening. There are all the quaint pizzerias, the classy wine bars, the fountains, and of course the beautiful Basilicas seem to make one lose track of time. Following in the students' steps, one can perhaps live a little vicariously through them--enjoying the sights and at least imagining the sensations of Rome at night:

"Rome strengthened my faith"

I was very excited to join Franciscan University on the trip to Rome. I tried to not have too many preconceived notions or expectations about this place, and any expectations I did have were blown out of the water.

It was a mildly difficult for me to be just as excited as many other students about visiting and touring Rome. I had never been there, and still knew very little about the city. While I had a decent appreciation for the Church here on Earth, I had no idea what I was in for!

The days in Rome were filled to the brim of activity, sights to see and things to do. We were blessed with beautiful, warm weather and lots of sunshine. A four-hour walking tour had many of us physically and mentally exhausted! Some of my favorite places to see were the Capuchin Bone Chapel (A chapel decorated with bones of capuchin monks), St. Monica’s tomb (Tour guide: “Oh, by the way, Saint Monica’s tomb is over there.” “Wait, what!?”), the top of the cupola at the Vatican, the Trevi fountain (I made sure to throw in coins), the Roman forums that are still being excavated, and the countless churches. I enjoyed hearing so many stories of the saints and of the historical events that happened in Rome. Above all, the highlight was the Scavi tour that took us beneath the basilica which is under the Vatican (!). There, we saw first century mausoleums that had been preserved with dirt that had filled this city of the dead. The mausoleums had only been discovered in 1939 and were excavated during the night in secret during World War II. Being in a place like this made 2,000 years seem like a short amount of time. Our tour guide did a fantastic job telling us a story about the bones of St. Peter, where they had been and where they are now. A specially designed NASA case keeps St. Peter’s bones safe close to where they were originally laid. It was a profound experience for me to be so close to bones that had walked on water and touched Christ. Suddenly, all the stories I had heard and read about became much more personal. They were no longer distant thoughts or ideas- they were real. Seeing the bones of St. Peter, and hearing how the centuries-old tales were confirmed through finding these bones, strengthened my faith.

I also enjoyed walking around the Roman ruins. It fascinated me to be walking down a fairly narrow street, turn a corner, and be surprised by a two-thousand year old structure in the midst of the hustle and bustle of everyday activity. These structures were built such a long time ago! I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the amount of time that these ruins have been standing.

I left Rome liking the city (and the city under the city…. under the city) much more than when I arrived. I highly recommend spending as much time as you can exploring there! Even though I toured the city for three straight days, I still feel as if I barely saw the place. There is so much to experience. I hope to go back one day!

A blog post by Monica Rust, Spring 2010

Sophia from China reflects on the Rome & Assisi Pilgrimage

One of the Language and Catechetical (LCI) students from China named Sophia composed a "Thank You" note regarding the recent school pilgrimage to Rome & Assisi.

I have left the letter "as-is" so the syntax and grammar isn't perfect, but it's pretty remarkable after such short study of the English Language.

These few paragraphs are very moving as it is evident her very depths were touched by the Lord in these places....

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Thanks be to God for helping this pilgrimage ‘’Rome and Assisi trip’’ and traveled safely. Thanks LCI program and our benefactors and Franciscan University and also the priests, all the people who are praying for LCI, there are too many people I am deeply grateful.

I enjoyed every moment during this pilgrimage, it is the most amazing moment I’ve ever had. My heart lost in Rome and Assisi.

By looking forward to this pilgrimage for ages, dream became true; I remember before we left, I was so excited, not only did I bring my own wishes and prayer, but also my parents and my siblings’. They were excited as me.

That was we just arrive in Rome, we couldn’t wait to go to St. Peter’ Basilica and Square. I was shocked, incredible exterior of St. Peter’ Basilica and huge Square. I prayed in the before the Altar of St. Joseph, for China, for the people who doesn’t know Jesus; for LCI program and all the kind benefactors, etc. The next days, we followed the tour, visited many famous churches, every detail was gripping, especially the day we saw Pope, even it was a little bit boring, because most the time the language I couldn't understand, but the most gripping moment is Pope gave the blessing. And also, the most favorite part, the ''Holy Steps'', Which is Jesus met Pilot; when I knelled down every steps, I was deeply touched, how God loves us; he was really became man, was stepping these steps, for our salvation, was crucified, totally give himself to us, therefore bring us new life.

I won't forget the day in Assisi, the birth place of Francis, the moment he gave back his father everything he had, money even his clothes in the street and said :''I am on longer call you father, but rather 'Our Father who art in heaven'. Francis, such a good example for us, give up his rich family and ''rebuilt God' Church''. There is a French author said:'' The saddest thing in the world is not to be a saint.''

My family is waiting for me to tell them all about this Rome and Assisi trip, I will show them the pictures and tell them all my experience. Tell them the story about Francis, about St. Peter' tomb, catacombs etc.

Of course, the pizza is my favorite food in Rome, it is so delicious. I wish I could make it for all of you.

Rome: Surpassing Expectations

We'll we just returned from yet another 10 day pilgrimage to Rome & Assisi. Hence, it only seems natural for student Trish Irvine to capture her thoughts:

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As we were trekking to Italy, I remembered a conversation I had with a priest-friend several months prior. He had studied at the North American College in Rome, Italy and I asked him where I should go when I was studying abroad this semester. He asked if I had been to Rome and I said I hadn’t. “Go to Rome,” he said. At the time, I was rather disappointed that I wasn’t told about little Italian cities to visit or secrets of an experienced traveler. Yet when I arrived in Rome, there was a sense that “Go to Rome” was all that needed to be said. Of course, I still want to travel to little Italian cities and see more than merely streams of traffic. Rome, however, was far more than I expected and cannot merely be reduced to a ‘big city.’

I wasn’t fond of being squished in a metro or forcing myself to be aware of any potential pick-pocketers, but there were a multitude of positives. Priests travel the streets clothed in cassocks and sisters are riding the metros of Rome along with you. After seeing pictures of St. Peter’s Basilica for so long, I felt like I had come home. The arms of Mother Church were truly embracing me and I loved it. How does one go home to an entirely new place? I’m not quite certain, but I did it.

The day after we got to Rome we were in St. Peter’s Square and happened to talk to a priest from the United States who was assigned in Rome for the time. “First time in Rome?” We nodded. “Now you know what it means to be Catholic.” That seemed the perfect way to state what I was feeling. The idea was solidified when we attended Latin Mass in St. Peter’s and the petitions were intoned in French, Italian, German, Spanish, and English. The congregation then went forward and received the same Jesus, regardless of language, culture, or nationality. Such a beautiful encompassing of peoples was something I knew in theory but experienced in reality for one of the first times.

I wish every Catholic could see what my eyes have seen, experience what I have experienced, and walk where my feet have walked. I saw the physical depiction of Christ’s conquering in many places around Rome—the pagan stone obelisks covered with the cross and Catholic churches built over pagan temples or the temples themselves converted into churches. The Pantheon, for example, is now the Basilica Santa Maria ad Martyrs while St. Clemente’s is constructed over what used to be a pagan temple.

I saw Pope Benedict XVI for the first time and I felt a deeper appreciation for his role in the Church. He is much more than an adorable man or the name on encyclicals. The Vicar of Christ helps hold the Church together and leads us with more than merely human strength.

I was able to pray in front of Venerable Pope John Paul II’s tomb. When I first went into the Tombs of the Popes, I was disappointed that his tomb was roped off—I had wanted to place my rosary on his tomb. After going on the Scavi tour (a tour that allows one to see the bones of St. Peter beneath the basilica), the seminarian that led tour was asked to place our rosaries on John Paul II’s tomb. He had to find another guard to let him do it but as he placed the rosaries on the tomb, I felt tears surge up irrepressibly. How does one man affect a girl who is generations younger, thousands of miles away, and unknown to him? It is, in part, through the unity of the Catholic Church. The role of the pope isn’t impersonal. As I found out, it is intensely personal, in a deeper way than I imagined before.

I walked down the streets of Rome and Vatican City. My feet carried me around the obelisk in St. Peter’s Square, one of the last things St. Peter saw as he was crucified upside down. I traversed the aisles of many basilicas, kneeling in old pews, touching my rosary to cold tombs that surrounded saints, and walking through houses of God that are also homes to architectural and artistic genius.

Rome was not what I expected and I am so thankful for that. It surpassed the boundaries I had drawn for it and led me deeper. Rome, in a very real way, is my home. It is a place of saints and sinners, corrupt and incorrupt people, joy and sadness. It isn’t Heaven but it has one foot wedged in St. Peter’s gate. Rome is the central city of the Catholic faith and this Catholic, for a few short days, was able to rest in Mother Church’s embrace. The farewell at the end was merely “Ciao” to the physical center of the Church; we all rest within her embrace regardless of where we are.

The Mystery of Moses' Beard

So the title of this post does have some relevance to the semester!

During our school trip to Rome, one of the stops on our walking tour is St. Peter in Chains which contains the chains which held St. Peter both in Jerusalem and also in Rome. But, there is also another gem in this church: Michaelangelo's famous Moses statue.

I had read about and told the students that supposedly in the beard of Michaelangelo there are two faces: one of Pope Julius II [he commissioned the Moses to be part of his funeral monument]and one of Michaelangelo. I never could see what they were saying until a student took a closeup and showed me...see if you can see the faces for yourself....