When I was a kid, I went to CCD class once a week up until I was in 8th grade. My memory of those years is faded, but I can distinctly remember some things: the pungent smell of the candles burning in the church, how nervous I was to do reconciliation and the stale taste of communion wafers.
I don’t practice Catholicism today. In fact, I’m not even sure if I believe in God. (Don’t worry. I will figure it out on my own. Everyone finds their peace differently.)
But today, I understood, and I appreciated my Catholic roots.
I don’t remember CCD telling me about Vatican City, but it was absolutely astonishing. The art, the passion, the architecture – It was all so inspiring.
First, we met with the Vatican communications department, where they talked about their news team, Vatican Radio, and the Pope’s twitter account. (Yes, Pope Franky has a twitter…and 17.7 million followers.)
And no – he does not write his own tweets. He only signs off on them. I was pretty disappointed, but the man’s got better things to do.
Next, we got a tour of the Vatican Museum, the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s Basilica. I can’t tell you how many times I had to pick up my jaw during those tours. The amount of beauty in one space was so overwhelming. From the ceilings to the floors, and everywhere in between, there was a stunning tribute to the faith that so many Italians dedicated their lives to.
Then there were the famous frescos by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel – possibly the greatest high renaissance paintings of all time. My eyes were wandering from corner to corner, down, then up again. It was so much to take in, and I could have admired it for days.
Not many people get to say that they have seen this masterpiece in person. But when you do see it, it is a humbling experience.
It helped me better understand the faith that I was raised on, and why it was so important for Italians to carry on the tradition of Catholicism. We all look for answers in life, and many find those answers in religion. It just so happens that my ancestors found that faith in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. When my Italian grandparents immigrated to America, they brought their faith with them, holding on to a piece of life in Italy that will never be removed.
Exploring the Eternal City made me feel like I was exploring my ancestor’s faith. Whether I practice it or not, I respect it and appreciate it.
When you see a place like that, it’s hard not to feel like you should take a kneel and pray.
And now, I pray for many more days like today. Days that introduce me to new things, days that bring me back to my roots, and days that leave me in awe of history and its beauty.