Reflections from Greccio

For the past 3 weeks, the individual classes at the North American College have been escaping for a week of silent retreats before the start of the academic year. Last week, our class spent our retreat in Greccio--the city where St. Francis of Assisi formed the first creche (live nativity scene). The city, if it is big enough to be classified as a city, is situated in a mountainous region to the north of Rome. It was there that we spent a number of days, united as a class, but in complete silence to pray and spend time with the Lord...

There were many graces received that week, however, I want to share a few insights that I gained while in prayer. Take them for what it's worth:

Firstly, I want to emphasize how crucial it is for us as Catholic Christians to strive to encounter the love of God through a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. This is one of the fundamental beliefs of Christianity that we ought to treasure as a gift: the fact that God came to earth and became man, and invites us to enter into a PERSONAL relationship with Him. That is, He loves us like no other as a unique person made in the image and likeness of God, Himself. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He loves us so passionately that His heart literally burns for us. This love is so immense, and it is a gift! All we have to do is accept it.

That relationship is so important, because it is the foundation of our relationships with one another. Without experiencing divine love, we can only love one another with a mortal love, which is fallen and imperfect. However, if we accept the love of God and reciprocate that love, it cannot remain within us. We are forced to pour out the love we have received from God to others. God is love. Thus, if we want to love one another, we must first love and accept God, who is love.

Secondly, it is important for us to remember how truly merciful God is. As St. Therese of Lisieux says, "You may truly say that if I had committed all possible crimes, I would still have the same confidence; I would feel that this multitude of offenses would be like a drop of water thrown into a flaming furnace" (Manuscrits autobiographiques, 313). With contrite hearts, yet humble confidence, rejoice in the fact that God wishes to forgive us and pick us up when we fall--that is the beauty of the sacrament of Penance. And what's more, as St. Paul says, "I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me" (2 Corinthians 12:9b). That is, when we are in most need of God's assistance, He willingly fills us with the graces needed to love Him! So, the next time you think "I can't do this," think of God saying "You're right, you can't, but we can!"

On her deathbed, Mother Theresa expressed concern to her sisters that they still have not encountered the love of Christ. I beg you to open your heart to accept God, who is immense love. When you become aware of His love, it is something truly better than anything that can be received on earth--it is supernatural! How do you start? Pray, and trust that God will provide. God always provides.

Visiting St. Peter

Archbishop Dolan has a little known book out entitled To Whom Shall We Go?, which is a series of reflections on the Gospel passages surrounding the relationship between Christ and St. Peter. I have been reading it lately after being so incredibly inspired by recent excursions to the Basilica of St. Peter to have Mass with the rest of the PNAC (Pontifical North American College) community, and a recent Scavi tour--a tour of the excavations below the basilica, which contains the bones of St. Peter himself!

I had taken the Scavi tour before, but for whatever reason, this time was special. Maybe it was due to the fact that I took the tour with a group of fellow brother seminarians who understood and appreciated the experience as much as I did, making it more prayerful and significant. I can't fully describe the Scavi tour itself, but I can say that after leaving the tour, I was speechless. I really began to understand, on a different level than ever before, the man who is St. Peter, Christ's 'right hand man,' and the rock upon which Christ built His Church. However, one does not need to come to Rome, necessarily, in order to encounter Peter, and hopefully Christ, in such a way. Granted, it would be a wonderful blessing to do so, but we can encounter Christ and the people He surrounded Himself with through the Gospels.

The Gospels should be our primary source of coming to know Christ. However, Archbishop Dolan's book does a wonderful job of supplementing the Gospel passages with his own personal reflections on the life of St. Peter and his interaction with Christ. Although I could harp about all the wonderful things that I have learned from the Archbishop's words, I want to single out one aspect that both Christ and Peter knew very well--the Cross.

In short, the Cross is what brings us salvation. Thus, it is only necessary that we participate in the Cross that Christ endured in order to hope for salvation. That is something that I have encountered more intimately since arriving in Rome--the redemptive suffering that Christ exemplified on the Cross. As I have mentioned previously, I have encountered a number of difficulties since arriving in Rome. Before I cause scandal I must emphasize that they are natural, healthy, difficulties, such as struggling to adapt to a new environment, missing family and friends at times, etc. However, it is through the various difficulties in our life (or mini-crosses, if you will) that we encounter Christ more than ever.

Is that really surprising to us? As Christ says in Luke's gospel, "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me" (9:23). Jesus describes it so clearly, and yet, it is so incredibly difficult for us to accept. Why? Because we live in a world that wants us to forget that principle. Let me borrow the words of the Archbishop:

"Satan tries to convince us that the Cross [is] a sign of failure; Our Lord Jesus Christ tells us it's a sign of victory. Facing and embracing our Cross is the way to our salvation--and that's why Satan hates it! That's why he tries to talk us out of it, because he doesn't want us to reach salvation" (Dolan 71).

What it most impressing, in my opinion, about the passion of our Lord is the fact that He carried it out in complete humility and submission to the will of the Father. When He was betrayed by His best friends, He remained silent and committed to the will of the Father. When He was judged unjustly, He remained silent and committed to the will of the Father. When He was scourged, spat upon, beaten, mocked, all with the weight of the Cross bearing down upon Him, He remained silent and committed to the will of the Father. Finally, when He was nailed to the Cross and left to die, He remained faithful to the Father, even forgiving those who crucified Him. There is a beautiful line in Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ," when Mary says to herself with such emotion: "My Son...when, where, how...will You choose to be delivered of this?" This perfectly exemplifies the humility of Christ in that at any moment He could have delivered Himself from the passion, yet, He remained silent and committed to the will of the Father.

Certainly, we could learn all there is to learn about embracing the Cross through Christ. However, I think Mary exemplifies the sweetness of the Cross in just as admirable a way. As Christ told the apostles to "watch and pray," so does Mary throughout the entire passion. She embraces her cross just as Christ did. How greatly she must have grieved to witness her only son handed over to be condemned, scourged, crucified, and killed before the public. Yet, she embraced the cross by walking with Him every step of the way. Yes, we can learn much from Mary's example, for we are not called, nor are we able to achieve salvation on our own with or without the Cross--it's Christ who does the saving. However, we are called to participate in Christ's suffering, that we may be united with Him through His suffering. Mary does that perfectly. She unites herself with her son, piercing her own heart in the process, and sharing in Christ's suffering. Mary, too, remained silent and committed to the will of the Father.

We all have crosses in our lives, some easier than others. In any event, let us strive to embrace the cross we are given, not for our own benefit, but to participate in Christ's suffering--the suffering that was born from unconditional, unending love for us all. We can't expect to bear our crosses for our own personal gain. What would be the purpose of suffering if it was only directed to ourselves? Rather, our suffering must be directed to God, who is Love, and suffered for us because of His immense love. Can't we strive to do the same in return?

Close to Home

I didn't have many expectations before the start of my time here in Rome. I think it's fair to say that my mind was most focused on and concerned with the fact that I would be leaving many things: friends, family, familiar lifestyle, my Archdiocese, my home! I mentioned in a previous post about a homily given within the first week of my arrival by one of my formators, who spoke about the surrendering of the life left behind in order that Christ may sanctify it.

Well, I've had a similar moment of grace bestowed upon me within these past couple of months here in Rome. I know that one of the major opportunities available here in Rome is the chance to understand, more fully, the universal Church. The chance to be at the heart of the Catholic Church, a stone's throw away from the rock of our Church, Peter, is definitely an opportunity that will form me in such a way that I will be able to share that with my home, the Archdiocese of Milwaukee--certainly not without the grace of God.

What I have noticed is, since my arrival at the North American College in Rome, I have felt a stronger connection with the universal Church. More significant, however, is the fact that I feel a much deeper connection to the Church in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. As good or bad as it sounds, living in Italy amidst the Catholic communities here causes me to appreciate the faithful back home. Since being removed from the Archdiocese, I have come to love and appreciate it more than ever. Living in a diverse seminary community, which itself is secluded from the rest of the city of Rome, causes me to appreciate where I came from, where I grew up, where I was raised in the faith. We have much to be proud of in our Archdiocese. We are blessed with faithful parishioners, holy priests and religious, and good bishops who shepherd us as Christ did.

Yes, there is much to be proud of. I am honored to live in Rome, in a community of seminarians from dioceses across the nation, and represent the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. I can humbly and gratefully boast in the graces that God has bestowed upon the faithful in southeastern Wisconsin. It is said, 'you don't know what you got, til it's gone.' I think that rings true here in Rome where, although I am blessed to be studying at the heart of the Catholic Church, I am also filled with hope and joy knowing that I will return, God willing, a servant priest of Jesus Christ for the Archdiocese of Milwaukee, where my heart remains.

Feast of the Assumption

Today is a special day for Siena. Not only is it time for the Palio horse race, but it is the feast of the Assumption, to which the Cathedral of Siena is dedicated. Since the medieval days, Siena has been celebrating the Palio and the Assumption as almost a joint feast day—celebrating both in a religious and secular sense.

For the past few weeks, preparations have been made for this weekend. The Cathedral did its part to prepare for the feast by offering a novena to the Blessed Mother. I, along with the other seminarians, was able to participate in this 9-day prayer. After a few days, the priest leading the novena recognized that some young men (probably American-looking) were regularly attending the novena. Eventually, he asked one of us who we are and why we are here. After explaining to him that we are seminarians living in Rome, but visiting Siena to study Italian, he asked us to meet the Archbishop of Siena, who had celebrated Mass that day.

After briefly greeting the Archbishop, we were invited to serve at the Mass of the Assumption—arguably the most celebrated feast of the year (that’s right, maybe even more popular than Christmas or Easter…sadly!). Therefore, I was able to serve Mass today for the Archbishop of Siena in arguably the most beautiful Church in the world on arguably the most important feast for the people of Siena—a feast that cannot be recapitulated in words.

It was a blessing and a gift to be able to serve this Mass. Today, I felt a deeper connection with the universal Church than I ever had before. One of my brother seminarians pointed out the timeless nature of the celebration that we were able to be a part of. Not only is the Church timeless in the sense that it was created by God, who is eternal and everlasting, but the fact that Siena has celebrated this feast in the same way for the past 700 years is itself almost a timeless facet of the Church of Christ. It reminds me of the millions of people who have gone before us in the faith. When we celebrate Mass, we celebrate it with all those who have celebrated it throughout history, and all those who are present in the world today. Christ’s Church has no physical or temporal boundaries. The same goes for the prayer of the Church—the “Liturgy of the Hours.” This ancient prayer, which revolves around the Psalms, has been prayed for centuries, for millennia. Now, when the Church prays it today, we join in prayer with all those who have prayed it in the past and who pray it around the world now. It is an incredible feeling and a beautiful aspect of the powerful nature of prayer in which we participate.

So here we were, six seminarians from obscure cities in the United States, serving Mass for the Archbishop of Siena on an enormous feast, with television stations and hundreds of people in attendance. Each neighborhood of Siena had flag bearers and drummers present, dressed in medieval garb. It was a wonderful celebration and a true gift to be able to celebrate this special feast with the people of Siena. What’s more is that we were on the altar with mere strangers—yet we were welcomed and treated as some of the most important people in the city. It was truly hospitable. You really can’t judge a book by its cover here. From the pews, the people who often serve the Mass at the Cathedral seem disinterested or downright angry—not unlike the average Italian you meet on the streets! Yet, when we were invited to serve the Mass and were able to get to know the priests and laymen that serve at the Cathedral, I was pleasantly surprised by their kindness and generosity. If only I could say the same about the average clerk or business person!

The Secret Garden

Pictures of my favorite spot in all of Siena...a secret garden tucked away from the main streets of the city (as mentioned in a previous post):

Living With Grandma

When it came time to choose which language school to study at in Italy, there was one thing on mind—which environment will give me the most intense language course? My objective was to come out of my language studies as fluent in Italian as I could possibly become in 4 weeks. So, I requested to live with a family in order to have more opportunities to practice Italian. I pictured a family with parents in their middle to later years and a few kids. What I got was a retired old woman. So, the living situation was not exactly what I anticipated.

When I arrived in Siena, there was plenty that I complained about, for one reason or another. The food isn’t good enough, it’s too far a walk to school, I have zero amenities, etc. By reading this, you’re probably thinking exactly what I’m thinking while writing this—what a lush! Well, that’s the conclusion that I have come to. I will confess, I have been far too ungrateful for what I have been given thus far. However, I want to point out one aspect in particular—living with my host “family.”

Part of it may be caused by the fact that I come from a loving, intimate, enjoyable family who I miss dearly, but I have too easily pointed out the insufficiencies of my living situation here in Siena. Again, my whole objective in requesting to live with a family was to practice Italian—so why am I complaining? I got what I asked for, right? Although it’s true, I did get what I asked for, there’s something more to it.

Within the past few weeks that I have been in Siena, while eating dinner daily in the company of this elderly woman who cooks for me and has invited me into her home, it dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t always look to what’s in it for me. In fact, this woman and I have had some great conversations about religion, the Church, Italian culture, etc. There’s a quote in M. Raymond’s book, The Family that Overtook Christ, which basically states, ‘God put me in this tiny place in this tiny speck of the universe, which we call [Siena], to make it beautiful, for Him.’ Who knows, maybe God has called me to love this elderly woman as Christ did, and bring Christ to her through my words and deeds.

We are all called to be the body of Christ. We are called and sent to bring Christ to the world. So, as I think about the many things I have been blessed with and ask God to change my heart to accept the little nuances in my life, I ask you to do the same out of complete love for God.

Visit from Assisi

There are 3 major locations in Italy where “new men” go to study Italian. The two other locations apart from Siena are Assisi and Ravenna. Most of the new men study in Assisi, and three of our fellow classmates came to visit Siena this weekend. We were able to spend some quality time with one another and get to know each other a bit better as well. We showed them around the city, which is quite a bit larger than Assisi, and made sure to hit the major sites and Churches that Siena has to offer. Although their stay was short lived (one night), it was an enjoyable experience to open our arms to our brothers who are studying and living in other cities around the country.


After a wonderful Sunday Mass at the Cathedral (Duomo), our group decided to take a trip out to the Basilica di Santa Maria dei Servi. Having seen the Basilica before, I decided to stay back and spend some time with one of the guys here in Siena who I don’t get to talk to very often. We had a wonderful conversation about life in Italy thus far, the Saints, and general discussions about the life of a young man following Christ. We both enjoyed talking to one another and I think we would agree that it was something we needed at that point. It got me to thinking about the importance of Christian fellowship--something I first experienced on an expedition with CYE (www.cyexpeditions.org).


Sometimes I find myself thinking that the way to know Christ is by sitting in the chapel long enough until God imparts His divine wisdom upon you and you are then able to interpret Scripture perfectly, know God’s will perfectly, and live a heroic life like the Saints did. Now, there are many things wrong with that thought, not least of which the theology of the statement. But, I want to bring up one comment specifically—that is, the importance of Christian fraternity and sorority. No, I’m not talking about grabbing a keg of trappist ales and inviting your best religious friends over for a crazy night. Rather, I’m talking about the importance of having quality friends who help you come closer to Christ--although A FEW trappist ales might be in order.

We all know the people in life who we spend time with, but don’t really feel like we accomplished anything while spending time with them, or we walk away questioning why we decided to get together. On the other hand, we know those people in our life who challenge us to become better people. They encourage us to lead virtuous lives. Why do we feel better when we hang out with certain people? I am going to venture to say that it’s due to the fact that we need those relationships. If you recall back to my point that we desire the greatest good, it makes sense that we also prefer those people who help us to achieve that greatest good—perfect, unconditional, reciprocal love with God for eternity.

In Pope Benedict XVI’s book, Introduction to Christianity, he brings up the story of Baron Münchhausen, who gets himself stuck in a bog and has nobody to help him out of the bog. Thus, he tries, rather absurdly, to lift himself out of the bog by his hair…but to no avail. Pope Benedict references this example to make the analogy that we, as Catholic Christians, often think that we can achieve spiritual heightening by ourselves. This is just as easy to achieve as it is for the Baron to lift himself out of the bog. Instead, we require good Christian fellowship to guide one another to God. I think that this analogy is most evident when lived out in normal circumstances. Such was the case while conversing with my fellow classmate and brother seminarian. Humans are, by nature, beings that need company. Thus, we are inclined to desire good, quality, Christian fellowship that, like any good and loving relationship, points us to the love of Christ and enhances our relationship with the Trinity.

Living in Italy

I don’t think it has quite set in that I will be living in Italy for the next few years. What I mean to say is, I still feel like I’m in Italy temporarily—as if I were on vacation. That is obviously not the case. I am slowly, yet often, reminded of that fact. For example, something so simple as getting my haircut was a larger ordeal than I anticipated. Back home, I simply go get my haircut at the same place where I have been getting it cut for the past 14 years…not the case here. It’s the simple things that I often took for granted back home than I am having the most difficulty adjusting to. Things like having internet access, numerous shops nearby, or a large and cheap meal are just simply not as accessible as they were in the States.However, these nuances have often forced me to appreciate other simpler things in life. For example, for my final class of the day at the Dante Alighieri language school, our quaint “professoressa” took us for a picnic in the beautiful gardens of Siena. All along the way, our teacher would point out the wonderful scent of the rosemary bushes, the budding olives in the trees, and other fruit-bearing plants, while marveling at their beauty. She amazed me by her keen sense for the immense beauty that exists even in the smallest things. It was like watching a toddler point out in amazement all that is pleasing to them—so joyful, so simple, so holy.

Finally, surrounded by Chianti vines and olive trees, we found a cool oasis in the hot summer garden to sit down for an hour, eat a light lunch, and practice our Italian. Perched on an ancient stone wall which sat on the top of a bluff, we overlooked a stunning view of the Tuscan country side—full of olive trees and grape vines—something out of a Hollywood film! It was the perfect end to a long week of studies. I often lament over the fact that my classes take up so much of the day and I rarely get much free time. However, today, I was able to stop, put aside all the stress, worry, and nuances of my new Italian life, and enjoy the beauty of God’s creation here in the heart of Tuscany. It was truly decadent.

Today’s Gospel passage speaks of “taking up your cross and following [Christ].” So often I find myself either complaining about my crosses, or denying them altogether. Or else, I don’t recognize the opportunities to bear my cross. I think the beauty of today’s afternoon picnic may have been God’s way of telling me that “although there will be crosses along the way, what I have in store for you is more beautiful than you could ever imagine.”

Learning Italian/Change of Heart

The Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord



I'll be honest--one of the things I was looking forward to most before coming to Rome was the chance to learn Italian. I have always had a desire to be multilingual--so much so that I would pray constantly for such a gift. However, once I entered the seminary two years ago, I was sure that it would no longer be possible. That is, I would have other priorities that would be more important, and therefore, I wouldn't have the time to learn any more languages. Some of us may have heard the famous passage in the Bible, "So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and everyone who seeks, finds; and to him who knocks, it will be opened" (Luke 11:9-10). Well how fervently do we actually believe that? How many times have we found ourselves saying “I prayed for that, but it never happened?” I catch myself thinking that all the time. However, this time it was different.

There was a point within the past two years where I had given up with the whole language dream. I decided that pursuing the Priesthood and fulfilling my role as a seminarian was more important than languages and I would have to up my dream of becoming multilingual, as difficult as it was. That is to say, I threw away my own ambitions and surrendered to the will of God. This was my prayer for the past two years since I entered the seminary: “make known your will to me, Lord, for that is what I know will make me happiest and that is what I want to follow.” I write this in utter honesty—in times of difficulty deciding whether or not I was making the right decision to pursue the Priesthood, I found myself simply asking God to give me the wisdom to be able to decipher and comprehend His will for me in my life. As far as I was concerned, multilingualism was already being collected by the garbage man.

So, I continued on my journey through college seminary and, wouldn’t you know it, there was a twist in the story. This past summer, I had the opportunity to travel to Spain and live with some friends for 4 weeks in order to practice and become more fluent in Spanish (or should I say Castellano). For nearly 4 weeks, I lived, prayed, ate, and spent time with the Schoenstatt (Catholic) community in Madrid. I did get to practice Spanish, and I did become much more fluent in the language—at least enough to consider myself bilingual. Yet, throughout this 4 week period, I was always concerned about whether or not I was achieving God’s will. Isn’t that funny? All this time I had been praying for the chance to become multilingual (as silly as that sounds), and when I finally get the chance, I’m not thankful for the gift but worried about whether or not God willed me to do it all (the conclusion I eventually came to can wait for another post on another day).

Moreover, I found out last December that I would be studying Sacred Theology at the Pontifical North American College in Rome. I admit, almost hesitantly, that as soon as I found out about Rome, I began looking so forward to the chance to learn Italian. Well here I am, achieving that dream, and what am I thinking about? God’s will.

I have come to the conclusion that God has turned my heart. God is answering my prayers—not because I prayed for the chance to become multilingual, but because I surrendered to God’s will. If you do seek the will of God, I PROMISE YOU, He will give you everything you desire. But, be aware, that you might come to realizations that surpass your desires. Such is the case that I am experiencing now. I have come to realize that there are gifts in this life far more important than those that we want, or even think we need. For years, I thought that my desire to learn multiple languages was of the utmost importance. Now, I realize that there are far greater gifts than these: family, friends, the love that they show to me, the Universal Church, and not least of them, the manifestation of God’s will for us. Why was I so caught up in worrying about speaking to people of other nationalities and languages and not so worried about talking to God? I asked and I received, I sought and I found, I knocked and a door opened me unto a world that I never knew I could experience.

I love learning Italian, don’t get me wrong. That desire has not died. However, in all my struggles, I have found that one thing that fuels me through suffering is the fact that I am seeking, and possibly following, the will of God. This is the source of my joy. How else could I be consoled through suffering if I didn’t have the joy of knowing that I was enduring it all for the sole purpose of seeking the Lord? Surely it brings purpose to my life, and I hope it will bring purpose to yours. We would all do well to constantly search for God’s will in our lives. Why? Not because we are called to be God’s slaves who follow His every order in order to feed His gluttonous rampage. Rather, we are called to love, serve, and follow Him because it will bring us to true eternal happiness. It will lead us to what our heart TRULY desires—Him.

Through the intercession of Mary, our Queen and Mother, Lord send us your spirit and reveal to us the glory of your resurrection, as you did to your disciples!

Siena (contd.)

After a long and intense first week of Italian language classes, the other seminarians and I decided to take a jaunt around the city to see the city as tourists for the weekend. We started at the Basilica di Santa Maria dei Servi (the Servites). This beautiful Church is a nice escape from the hustle and bustle of the city center. It lays on the outskirts of the city walls where the environment is substantially more peaceful. From there, we ventured through the ancient streets of Siena, passing some beautiful scenery, to the Duomo (Siena’s Cathedral). This beautiful building is similar to the Cathedral in Orvieto, with black and white striped brick and ornate carvings and sculptures. This style seems to be unique to the Tuscan region. The Duomo, in my opinion, along with the Cathedral in Orvieto, are two of the prettier Churches I have seen in Italy—from the outside, that is. The ornate artwork carved into the façade invites you to study it for hours…and I probably could have if I had the time. Siena’s Cathedral from the inside, however, is a sight to be seen. The ornate decoration along with the cavernous structure of the building, paired with the beautiful artwork in the form of paintings, tiling, and sculptures makes it one of the most stunning churches that I have ever seen—at least top 3! Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to gather many pictures of the inside of the Church. The only time I was able to visit the Cathedral thus far was for Sunday Mass, and the personnel do not like it when you take pictures after Mass (they made that clear to me!). I was able to take a few shots before getting scolded, but all you need to know is that this place is gorgeous!

Finally, we made our way to the Chiesa di San Domenico—which houses the relics of St. Catherine. The Church as a whole is quite simple (by Italy’s standards), however there are many side altars which are beautifully decorated and full of art. The chapel that contains the relic of St. Catherine’s head, for example, is one of the more beautiful chapels in the Church. Another significant part of San Domenico is the space in which St. Catherine envisioned Christ during prayer. There is a small alcove in the rear of the Church which contains an icon of St. Catherine, as well as a few choir stalls. It is said that during her prayer, Christ appeared to Catherine at that same spot. Buried in the ground at that spot are some 2^nd class relics, such as St. Catherine’s habit. I enjoyed praying there since it is not clearly marked, and thus, free of tourists. In addition, I am always fond of the Saints and their intimate relationship with God. St. Catherine, for example, sought and knew God in such an intimate way that He appeared to her numerous times throughout her life. To be able to sit where she sat at the moment of such an experience fills me with both zeal and hope—zeal in the sense that I am inspired to know God more intimately, and hope in the sense that I, too, can experience God in the way that the Saints did. I often struggle to figure out how I can come to know Christ more intimately. How can I come to know His will? St. Jerome said, “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.” I think that’s the key. To know Scripture is to know Christ. God speaks to us and reveals Himself to us through Scripture. Thus, what better way to know God than through Scripture?

Siena

One of the gifts of studying in Italy (or crosses, depending on how you look at it) is the chance to become familiar with the Italian language. This is the purpose of the 4 week program that 6 seminarians, including myself, are participating in while living in Siena. The intensive course allows us to be fully prepared for the language exam given before studying at the Gregorian University in Rome. Not only am I able to learn the beautiful Italian language, but I am also able to indulge in the wonderful culture of Siena.

Siena is known, most likely in the secular world, for Il Palio—the horse race that takes place in Siena’s main square, around a mass of locals and tourists. This event attracts people far and wide to see the famous race, unique to the city. To the Catholic world, Siena has been made famous by St. Catherine. This strong, young woman was instrumental in bringing the Papacy back to Rome, after a period in Paris. St. Catherine’s head is kept in Siena, while the rest of her body stays in Rome (there’s no way of getting around the brutality of that sentence). Aside from the influence of St. Catherine, Siena is also known for the Eucharistic miracle at la Basilica di San Francesco. It is a city rich in culture and history. In fact, in its day, Siena was one of the three more popular cities in Europe, along with London and Paris.

I find that I often suffer from “the grass is greener on the other side of the fence” syndrome. I have always felt this way about Europe, but having spent four weeks in Spain, and now beginning the first of nearly four years in Italy, I have found that the nostalgia dies quite rapidly. The beauty of the world, in my opinion, is not necessarily in the inanimate objects such as ancient buildings and beautiful landscapes themselves. Granted, these are wonderful things to see and I am truly blessed to have the experience. However, I have noticed that the people that inhabit these places are more important that the places themselves. I often wonder how Italians can walk past St. Peter’s Basilica or the Coliseum, and not even blink an eye? How can these wonderful things become nominal and taken for granted? I believe it’s because such tourist attractions are purpose-less to the local people, at least in comparison to what they are truly seeking. We all seek something greater than the beautiful Churches of Italy, or the large skyscrapers of the US, or whatever it may be. We seek something greater. Thus, I believe that we can easily find the inanimate attractions of our local city or country to be nominal in comparison to that something greater, which we all seek—that is, God. Think about the purpose of why religious art or beautiful church buildings are created? They are created to point us to that which is greater, that which we seek, that which dwells deep within us—God, who is Love. So, as I sit here in Siena, pondering the many ancient attractions that this city, this country, has to offer. I remind myself that they are only important in so far as they lead me to God. I pray that my time in Italy may not drive me to appreciate the beauty of the physical objects, themselves, but rather, the beauty that lies within the objects…the beauty that is behind each object…THE beauty.

Orvieto

Tucked away high in the mountains of Tuscany is the fortress that is Orvieto. The city was never successfully taken over by enemy forces as a result of the steep cliffs that form a natural fortress. Orvieto has a few claims to fame. Firstly, the city was frequented by St. Thomas Aquinas, who actually lived there for some time and did much writing there (including the Tantum Ergo). The Cathedral stands toward the center of the city, and contains a beautiful chapel with many meaningful Christian paintings. It is said that even Michelangelo sat and studied the paintings within before doing work in the Sistine Chapel. Secondly, the Cathedral hosts a Eucharistic Miracle that happened in a nearby city. During Mass, a priest was elevating the Host, when it started to bleed, and it spilled on the corporal. The priest immediately brought the consecrated host to the Bishop in order to get approval. This was later recognized by the Church as a Eucharistic miracle (VERY brief story, but you get the gist...). Overall, it is a quaint, medieval city with beautiful scenery and romantic architecture. Enjoy the photos….

Basilica di San Clemente

The Basilica di San Clemente is one of the most well preserved structures of the ancient Roman days. It consists of 3 levels of ancient structures, each one built on top of the other. The upper most level still stands as the acting Basilica of Saint Clement—a pope and martyr of the first century. This level was built in the 12^th century and contains an immaculate mosaic above the altar—one of the most beautiful pieces of art in the entire city, in my opinion. It has remained wonderfully intact, with one exception: contained within the stomach of the mosaic of Christ were the relics of St. Ignatius of Antioch and St. James, the apostle. This was discovered, and then removed from the mosaic. Despite this minor adjustment, the mosaic is in near perfect condition as it shines reflected light throughout the majority of the basilica.

Below this level is a 4^th century basilica, which still lies directly under the foundation of the 12^th century basilica. This level was preserved quite well due to the conditions of the environment. One is able to walk around this level to get an image of what the earlier basilica looked like. Finally, underneath it all stands the 1^st century basilica, which at one point was a house Church. At one point, it acted as a Mythraeum temple, where people of the Mythraism religion would come and worship. It was later converted into a house Church where persecuted Christians could worship and celebrate Mass in peace.

What is fascinating about this multi-layered Church is the fact that you can literally see the Coliseum from the Basilica di San Clemente. Thus, the early Christians could literally look out their window to remind themselves of the fate that lies before them if they were caught exercising their religious beliefs. The courage of the early martyrs, especially those who lived and worshipped so near to the fatal Colosseo, is tremendously inspiring. The earliest Christians were so convicted of their beliefs that they disregarded the completely brutal and inhumane events of the Coliseum in order that they might keep the faith and keep the Church alive. What more can we take from their example?

Catacombs of Priscilla

During the second day of orientation, I was able to visit the catacombs of Priscilla, one of many catacombs in Roma, but only a few of which are open to the public. The catacombs held, at one point, around 40,000 bodies. There are around 8 miles of underground tunnels which contain the tombs, some of which have not been opened.

This was also the burial place of many early Christians, including martyrs and even a few popes. The catacombs of Priscilla are names as such because of the woman whose property it was. Priscilla eventually donated the land to the Church to be used as a burial place. As more people died, more space was needed to properly bury these individuals, and so the Romans dug deeper to house them all—thus leaving the multi-level catacombs which can still be seen today. Within the catacombs, there are many beautiful frescos and images carved into rock, marble, or brick. Most noteworthy is the oldest known image of Our Lady, which is immaculately preserved, considering the conditions and age of the fresco.

The most inspiring aspect of the catacombs is, in fact, the many martyrs and faithful Christians who have been buried there over the years. Within the catacombs stand altars, which have been used for millennia by the earliest Christians. For years, followers of Christ in Rome celebrated the Holy Mass in the exact same spot, and we as a class were able to carry on that celebration. During that mass, the Rev. Monsignor gave a consoling homily on the topic of suffering and sacrifice. He mentioned that the martyrs, obviously, encountered much suffering and sacrifice in their lives as a result of following Christ. We, too, must do the same. We are a class that has given up much to be studying in Rome. We have sacrificed family, friends, and many familiarities back home for a new adventure in a foreign, often uncomfortable way of life. It’s not easy to give up the familiarity of Milwaukee, Wisconsin in order to pursue Christ in a foreign world. Yet, I have two options. I could mourn the sacrifice made, which might only amplify the situation and produce little to no benefit. Or, I could surrender the sacrifice of family, friends, and everything else contained in the life left behind, and offer it for the Lord to sanctify. God can make holy all that we surrender to Him. Thus, when I encounter times of suffering and sacrifice, although miniscule in comparison to the trials of the martyrs, I surrender it to Christ, that He might make it holy and sanctify it.

La Vita Romana

After many good-byes, some rather emotional, and a long night of traveling over the Atlantic, around 50 seminarians, including myself, arrived in Rome to begin our journey of studying Sacred Theology. I was tired, anxious, nervous, and excited—emotions that I’m sure were shared among the group. After getting situated, we finally gathered in the Assumption chapel for evening prayer and Mass. I felt a certain level of anticipation within myself. I was excited to begin this new time in my life, and was anxious to get to know the people with whom I would be sharing these future experiences. Thus, we gathered attentively in the chapel, waiting for the Mass to start. The opening hymn was announced, the entire chapel stood up, and the first line of the song was sung with such a vibrant strength, as if the entire group of new men were letting out the emotions of the past days. The music was strong and beautiful—so much so that it literally gave me goosebumps. I knew I was on the brink of something extraordinary, something bigger than myself. I felt like I was embarking on a period of my life that would change me forever.

The following day, the majority of us spent a good portion of the day touring the Basilica di San Lorenzo (Saint Lawrence). Here is kept the remains of St. Stephen, and St. Lawrence, most notably. It was inspiring to be in the presence of some of the most noted martyrs in the Catholic Church. The story of St. Lawrence’s brutal martyrdom is worth researching. In addition, we were able to visit the tomb of Pope Pius IX, who founded the Pontifical North American College in Rome, where I will be spending the next 4 years of my formation. Despite the wretched Roman summer heat, it was a blessing to be able to experience this gift with my fellow classmates, my fellow brothers. The Church history in Rome seems to be endless, so I hope never to take for granted what I am able to experience on a daily basis.