A few years ago,
my friend and I were in Rome standing in front St. Peter's Basilica. It
was late—almost midnight—and no one was around.
No one, that is, except for the Pope. If you face St. Peter's Basilica and look up and to the right, you can see the windows of the Papal Apartments. And that night a light was on.
It was a surreal moment. A place which can be filled with hurricane frenzy—bustling crowds, long lines, tour guides yelling follow me!—now felt like the eye of a hurricane in which all noise and chaos are suddenly gone and there is that moment, however brief, of blessed stillness. It's a moment which illuminates the fundamental truth that we are not alone; that sometimes we simply need to ignore everything else to focus on that light and know there is a God in heaven, there is peace in the world, there is hope.
Yesterday, I gathered around the television with my husband and sons to watch Pope Francis give an Urbi et Orbi blessing. Translated from Latin “to the city [of Rome] and to the world” this blessing is usually given on three occasions: when a pope is elected Successor of Peter, at Christmas, and at Easter. So the fact the Pope was giving this solemn blessing yesterday was an important occasion, one which called the faithful from all over the world to participate.
No one, that is, except for the Pope. If you face St. Peter's Basilica and look up and to the right, you can see the windows of the Papal Apartments. And that night a light was on.
It was a surreal moment. A place which can be filled with hurricane frenzy—bustling crowds, long lines, tour guides yelling follow me!—now felt like the eye of a hurricane in which all noise and chaos are suddenly gone and there is that moment, however brief, of blessed stillness. It's a moment which illuminates the fundamental truth that we are not alone; that sometimes we simply need to ignore everything else to focus on that light and know there is a God in heaven, there is peace in the world, there is hope.
Yesterday, I gathered around the television with my husband and sons to watch Pope Francis give an Urbi et Orbi blessing. Translated from Latin “to the city [of Rome] and to the world” this blessing is usually given on three occasions: when a pope is elected Successor of Peter, at Christmas, and at Easter. So the fact the Pope was giving this solemn blessing yesterday was an important occasion, one which called the faithful from all over the world to participate.
I again
experienced that surreal feeling as I watched the Pope walk to the sagrato
of St Peter’s Basilica and, facing an empty square, addressed the world. It was
sad, poignant, and hauntingly beautiful—St. Peter’s Square, glistening in the evening
rain, and a solitary figure calling the world to prayer. Then, there was those precious moments before the Blessed Sacrament in which there was Silence.
Silence in
Rome. Silence from the television. Silence in our homes.
And it was exactly what was needed. What a blessing to stand in peace,
quiet, and tranquility among the news of deaths, shortages, and
self-isolation; to recognize our vulnerability and yet know we are loved; to come
into ourselves and hear Jesus’ probing question, Why are you afraid? Have
you no faith?
To answer Jesus’ call to Come to the Quiet.
(photo credit: Vatican News)
(photo credit: Vatican News)
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