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
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