Easter is quickly approaching, and springtime has arrived in Rome. But let's delve back in to the depths of winter, where it was a frigid 50 degrees. I know, rough, right?
After Valentine's day, we traveled to Paray Le'Monial, France, the same place we went right after Christmas. There are 4 Emmanuel School's of Mission: ours in Rome, one in Altottling, Germany, one in Manila, Phillipines, and one in Paray in France, as well as a seminary in Belgium. We all came together for a retreat, and then helped lead a gathering of about 1,500 youth. On the way to Paray, we stopped in Ars, a small French village where St. John Vianney was stationed as a parish priest. He was known to be very dense, to put it nicely, and barely passed his exams for the priesthood. For this reason, the bishop sent him to this tiny village, where he couldn't do too much harm. Quickly, he became famous for his holiness, and people from all over Europe would come to hear him speak. He would hear confessions for up to 18 hours a day! We were able to pray at his tomb in the basilica. His body is incorrupt. He died in 1859, and his body was exhumed in 1904 and it was found to be perfectly preserved, with no decay. His body has remained intact until this day, a physical sign of his holiness and the power of God.
We arrived in Paray and met all the different schools. They're all so different from us! It was hard to communicate with all the language barriers, but we managed to build friendships nonetheless. During our retreat, I really wanted to discover in a deeper way what God's love really is. Ya, ya, ya, we hear that God loves us all the time, but what does that really mean? Through various talks and a lot of prayer, I realized something that was very important for me. I was waiting for God to give me some huge revelation of His Love, where it would just hit me and I would be so overcome by it that it would just have to overflow back to Him and to my neighbor. This isn't what He had in mind. He showed me that, in order to understand His love, I first have to live it. This seemed completely contradictory to me. How can I live it if I have no idea what it is?! But I think it's true - the more we love others, the more we serve them and give ourselves to them, the happier and more fulfilled we are. This shows us that we are made to love, and that love is a gift of self to others. When we're happy and fulfilled, it's so much easier to love. So, if I first just try to live love, then I will understand it more and more, and it will be easier and easier to continue to do it and grow deeper in it. The most concrete way I can do this is by really reflecting on the life of Jesus, seeing how He loved, and trying to imitate Him to the best of my ability. So I guess God was right all along, even if it seemed contradictory to me.
The retreat ended, and 1,500 young people from across Europe arrived. Whoa. It was really amazing to see so many people coming from all over, all for the same reason. And it's really inspiring to see so many young people who are seeking for truth, who want to know God and come close to Him. Our school was in charge of various tasks, including the music, logistics, security, food, some of the entertainment, etc. I had never been a part of putting on something this big before, and it was really cool.
Our last night there, after all the other people had left, we had a big feast with all the schools, and, as we love to do, had a night of music and dancing. We went to bed around midnight, and had to get up again at 2:30am to leave. Definitely the earliest breakfast I've ever had. And they had this incredible stuff that's like peanut butter, but tastes like liquid Teddie Grahams. Beyond amazing :) After a 2 hour car ride to the airport, and another 2 hours waiting in lines, etc. we got on our plane. I couldn't stay awake to save my life, which was fine because it saved me from the terror I would have experienced if fully conscious. The plane kept hitting so many air pockets, and then when we went to land, the pilot decided at the last minute that he wanted to go for a little joy ride and pulled back up. I kept waking up as we were bumping along, and I figured, ya, we'll probably die, but I don't really care, I just want to go back to sleep. But, as you can see, we didn't die. After landing, we had another hour bus ride back home. I was so slap happy, that I was laughing hysterically at every single thing. I saw a sign for a hotel called "Acqua Santa," which means "holy water" in Italian, but I kept picturing Santa Claus in a bathing suit swimming and running around, and I lost it. I'm pretty positive the people on the bus thought I was crazy or drunk. Oh well!
There was in international pro-life conference held in the Vatican by the Pontifical Counsel for Life. We were invited, but really knew nothing about it. So we arrived at the designated address, and were told by the guard that we were supposed to have called to get our names on a list, and that we needed special badges. So typically Italian. Overly bureaucratic in everything. The guard randomly left. So we all said a prayer, and decided to knock on the door to the conference, just in case. As we knocked, a priest was on his way out at the same time. He informed us that, in fact, the conference we being held within the Vatican walls, so everyone was there, but if we didn't have badges it would be impossible to get in. Slightly dejected, but determined not to give up, we made our way to the Vatican, with no idea how we were going to get inside. The Swiss Guard were blocking the entrance, so again we said a prayer and then walked up to them, trying our best to act like we knew what we were doing. "Hi, we're here for the pro-life conference." "Do you have the required badges?" "Well, no, but, ya, uh, you see, we, um, were invited yesterday, and didn't know we needed them, so...." The massive guard, in his ridiculous outfit that resembles some psychedelic pajamas, looked down at us. "No, no, no," he said. We all thought our chances were shot. But then..."You see that door right there? That's the entrance. You can go in." What?! The Swiss Guard just let a bunch of t-shirt clad youngsters in to one of the special entrances to the Vatican. I began to see a trend here - say a prayer, get exactly what you want. So, we made our way in to the huge building that houses the auditorium in the Vatican. Immediately, several guards met us to ask why we were there. We told them, and of course, the first question: "Do you have the badges?" Again with the darn badges?! We broke to them the sad news that we unfortunately did not. But we asked, semi-desperately if there were any way that they could let us in. They had to step away to "deliberate." So we all huddled up to say another prayer. A few moments later they returned, and began to question us incessantly. Our chances weren't looking good. But, just when we began to lose hope, who walked through the door but the very woman who had invited us! She was giving one of the talks at the conference, and she was running very late. We sprinted over to her and explained our situation. "Oh, they're with me. Come on guys!" The guards stood there looking puzzled as we walked past them, semi-gloatingly, in to the conference. The talks were amazing, and we had so much fun. There were leaders in the pro-life movement from all over the world! America was definitely the best represented country, as we have indisputably the strongest pro-life movement. I was so proud.
After the first session of talks there was a time of "light refreshments," which turned out to be amazing Italian coffee, cookies, tons of different cakes, etc. Us poor, starving missionaries jumped on the free food, devouring everything in sight. It was then that I realized that everyone there was either a priest, a nun, or dressed in a super nice suit or dress. We were in jeans and tennis shoes. The fact that we even got in to this event is just so ridiculous. I ran in to Father Frank Pavone, founder of Priests for Life and one of the most influential men in the entire pro-life movement in America. I also ran in to a nun that I met last year in Manhattan! Gosh, the world is so small. Moral of this whole, really long (sorry) story: Pray. It works.
Each Wednesday morning we have what's called compassion service. We're broken in to 3 groups. Some go to help at a the Missionaries of Charity house (Mother Teresa's order of nuns), some go to a nursing home, and my group goes to Termini, the main train station in Rome, to meet the homeless on the streets. I'm not gonna lie, at the beginning, I was super mad that I wasn't assigned to help at the Missionaries of Charity. Mother Teresa is one of my favorite people ever, and her nuns inspire me so much with their heroic charity. The first few times we went out to help the homeless, I thought it was a bit awkward. But I sucked it up and just began going to people, offering them coffee and some food. I was afraid of being rejected. But immediately, I realized that each person we met was so grateful. I think that they're used to so many people passing them by every day that they're just thankful that someone recognizes them as a human being, and is willing to take some time to talk with them. I also felt totally inept to help in any way. I mean, all we have is some coffee and cookies; that's not exactly going to save someone's life or get them off the street. But slowly I came to realize that this is not what it's about at all. Although it is very important to give them this nourishment, it's almost, in a way, an excuse to get to talk with them and just spend some time in their company. We're human, we're communal beings, and we need that interaction. Each time we stop and talk with someone, they seem really content just to hang out, regardless of what we talk about. Yes, it's true, often times they tell us of their problems, and it's really hard to hear their stories and know that there's really nothing we can do. But we can show them love, show them that they are valued, that someone cares about them, that they have dignity. Our goal is never to evanglize or anything, but it's amazing, because the poor and homeless are so open and so faithful. They're usually the ones evangelizing us! They're almost always super grateful when we offer to pray for them and with them. And they're so happy. They have nothing, they sleep in the cold, and many go days without eating, but honestly, the average homeless person we meet is happier than the average person I know in America. They smile, they laugh, they sing with you and pray with you. And they're so grateful, even if you have nothing to give them. One man, Gabriel, is missing a leg, and you'll never see him without a smile on his face. Another man, Angelo, is probably in his 70's, and he sings for us each week. Yet another, Claudio, can talk your ear off for a good hour without letting you get a word in.
I recently read a study that said that the suicide rate in countries considered "rich" is 5,000% higher than those considered "poor." What does this say? Something that we all know. Money doesn't bring happiness. No material thing does. The poor are happy. Jesus knew what He was talking about when He said the poor will inherit the earth.
On some occasions, I've even had the homeless give me things! Around Christmastime, there was a man who we would see each week, who bought a bag of candy to give to us. He could have bought himself a sandwich or a drink, but he thought of some random strangers that he sees only once a week. In the words of Blessed Mother Teresa, "The less we have, the more we give. Seems absurd, but that's the logic of love."
Each Friday, we go out to St. Peter's Square to pray, sing, and talk to people about the faith. It's so much fun, and we get to meet the most interesting people from all over the world. We tell them why we're in Rome, and what we do at the school. This inevitably brings up the topic of faith, and we get a chance to talk about our Catholic faith and present the beauty of it to others. People are almost always really open (maybe being in front of the biggest basilica in the world helps a bit...), and we've had some amazing conversations with Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Atheists - you name it. People are often really shocked when they see that we're not trying to argue with them or shove Catholicism down their throats - we're just there to give our own personal testimony about how God has worked in our lives. We always ask people if they have anything they'd like us to pray for. I'm constantly amazed at the responses. Some people literally burst in to tears on the spot, even people who don't practice any religion. Maybe no one has ever asked them that question in their life. It's incredible to hear a complete stranger confiding to you their personal struggles or those of family and friends, and assuring them that you'll keep them in prayer each day.
Our school was invited to go to a missionary conference at a huge missionary seminary in Rome. There were mission groups there from all over the world. This event took my view of the world and totally blew it apart. Ya, a bit dramatic, but it's kinda true. There were people of all kinds - priests, nuns, brothers, and lay people - from every continent, with one thing in common: they were all the happiest people I've ever met in my life. Every person was so open to meet everyone else. They would just come up to you, one after another, and introduce themselves, ask tons of questions, share life stories, etc. Especially those from Africa and Asia. I couldn't believe it. I can probably count on one hand the number of days I have been as joyful as them in my life.
There were several talks and discussions throughout the day, and at the end we finished with a type of talent show, where each group would perform a song. Coolest thing ever. The Asians played these cool flute things, the Latin Americans sang and did their little hip shaking dances, the Africans played on drums and some of the strangest looking instruments I've ever seen. One looked like a xylophone with coconuts hanging from it. During this time, I realized that I've grown up in such a "white" world. I think this was possibly the first time in my life that I had been in a room where I was, by far, the minority. Even coming to Europe, which has broadened my view of the world and it's cultures quite a bit, I still live in a western, white culture. Being there with those people made me realize that there is so much of the world that I know absolutely nothing about, that I have never experienced or been exposed to. It just really opened my eyes a lot, in a lot of ways, and gave me a great desire to try to understand people better. And again, most of these people came from very poor countries that need a lot of help, and yet they are the most joyous. Just another affirmation of the special joy of the poor.
One more short story. So the food here is amazing. Like, really good. And a month ago I think I was becoming seriously addicted to it. Anyone who knows me knows that I love food and eat a ton of it (even if my mom thinks I don't eat enough), and I was eating excessive amounts every day. So one night, one of the students named Kristina from Lithuania made this special Lithuanian drink, and it had mint leaves in it. I was drinking it, and all of a sudden I couldn't really breathe or swallow. After like 15 minutes I was starting to get really worried, and I thought I must have been allergic to something. After another 15 minutes, I started to get light-headed and dizzy. Then randomly a mint leaf shot up out of my throat - it had been lodged there. Well, this irritation caused my throat to swell so much that I could barely swallow for a week and a half. It took me so long to eat anything, and i had to meticulously chew each bite in order to avoid choking. I dreaded every meal, and didn't even want to eat. By the end of this 10 days, my addiction to food had ended; in fact, I didn't even want to see the sight of food. Right when I reached this point, my throat was cured in about 2 seconds, and I've been able to get back to more healthy eating habits. God has a sense of humor for sure.
That's about it for now! I'll try to keep you posted again soon, but, from all past experience, we know how that tends to go. In the mean time, may God bless you abundantly!
Peace,
Eric
