Verso l'alto

Hanging on our refrigerator is a prayer card with a photo taken in 1925 of (as of today!) St. Pier Giorgio Frassati climbing a mountain. Written across the top are the words Verso l’alto, which translated literally means towards the heights. Those words have become a rallying cry of what it means to walk on this earth while striving to reach the summit of eternal life.

This past August, we visited a Medieval Cathedral and Abbey in Dunfermline, Scotland. As I wandered around inside, my gaze kept shifting upwards: to the crucifix, the ceiling, the beautiful stained-glass windows illuminated by the early morning sunlight. Even outside I kept looking up: to the spires, the bell tower, the enormous wooden doors. 

So much about the architecture of a church is about that upward movement: the vaulted ceilings, towering columns, pointed arches, tall candlesticks, raised altar area, and hanging crucifix. All of it is meant to draw our eyes upward.

The rituals of Mass also direct our eyes heavenward: the Book of Gospels is lifted on high, incense curls toward the heavens, candle smoke drifts heavenward, the consecrated host is raised, and even our voices are elevated in praise and prayer.

This is why verso l’alto are words to live by. On one hand they can refer to the physical act of climbing toward heaven, on a deeper level they refer to what we are doing while climbing: who we are as children of God; how we act, forgive, live our faith, help the sick, love our neighbor. All the things we need to do in order to find meaning and purpose on our climb. 

Today, just in time for the canonization ceremony in Rome, there are now two prayer cards on our refrigerator: one of Pier Giorgio Frassati climbing a mountain, and one of St. Giorgio Frassati standing on top of a mountain.

A reminder to keep striving.

Verso l’alto.