Sunsets

I had the privilege to expend part of the school Christmas break with the Trappist monks of Frattocchie, suburb of Rome. Those days will remain in my memory for ever as days of profound reflection. I found there a beautiful biography, in its original Italian, of my dear hermano San Rafael Arnaiz, a Trappist novice who died very young in his native Spain in 1938.

I met hermano Rafael through another friend of mine: father Damian of Molokai. I didn’t know anything about Rafael until the very day of his canonization. Rafael and Damian were canonized together with other three saints in the same ceremony by Pope Benedict XVI. It was my first time in Rome. Hermano Rafael did not need to say a word to me before he called my attention. His image transmitted the peace and serenity that only someone who has God within can give. He inspired me right away to say to myself: I want to be like him.

The book I found there seems to have been written in the very same place I was at. After reading the first pages of the introductory chapter, I realized that I already had read the English translation of it, sometime after the canonization. I got that book in a quick stop I made by the New Melleray Abbey in Dubuque IA.  It is, by the way, a place very dear to my heart. It was there where I made the decision to become a priest for my providential archdiocese of Chicago. I read it again anyway. It is like s’mores melting on your mouth!

The truth is that during those days with the monks and reading Rafael, I realized how much Rafael and I share in common: men of flesh and bone, passionate for God and our Lady and lazy to wake up early in the morning. Not that I am a saint yet, but I am talking about when Rafael was more like me. This gives me hope!

Sunrises and sunsets are my favorite moments of the day because those are moments of great transcendence that claim contemplation and invite to praise the Lord. But because I have seen more sunsets than sunrises, I prefer for now sunsets until I learn how to wake up to watch the sun rise. However, I have a great difficulty with sunsets: they seek the night and as consequence allow the day to be overcome by darkness. But I turned on a camera and took pictures of sunsets in the monastery during the last week of 2011. I would like to take the opportunity of Lent to share some with you along with reflections about sunsets. I would like to invite you to let yourself be impregnated by them during Lent, which is like a long sunset seeking the night of death, overcome after, once and for ever by the great light of the Great Sunday. I hope that by then, I will have enough courage to wake up to contemplate the sunrise.

So alternatively with the stational churches, I will post a new sunset each Sunday of Lent to meditate upon. 

Fourth Station: Saturday after Ash Wednesday at St Augustine

Coming from the busy streets near Piazza Navona, we find ourselves a quiet square before the graceful façade of today’s station.  Originally the liturgy of today was celebrated in the church of St. Tryphon.  This was an older church which once stood near here but was demolished to make room for the adjacent Augustinian convent, which was later confiscated by the Italian government after the invasion of Rome in 1870.  The church of St. Augustine, under the patronage of the great pastor and author of the fourth and fifth centuries, dates back to the medieval period, with the first church begun in 1296 and construction continuing over the following two centuries, finishing in 1446. (From: Procedamus in Pacem, PNAC)

One of the special things of this church is that St Monica’ tomb, Augustine’s mother, is here. She gives us example of endurance, perseverance and confidence in prayer. When you pray and see there is nothing happening, pray more. If nothing happens yet, pray, pray and pray.

Let us Pray

Almighty ever-living God,

Look with compassion on our weakness

And ensure us your protection

By stretching forth the right hand of your majesty.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

One God, for ever and ever. (Collect from Mass). 

The interior of this church is an honest testimoy to the Renaissance period. 

St Monica's tomb. We take a moment to reflect upon this woman , whose steadfast faith and constant prayers would win for God the great saint after whom this church is named. 

Chapel of  St Nicholas of Tolentine. Underneath this altar are his relics. 

One of the greatest treasures of this church is this fresco of Isaiah by Raphael. Below there is a sculpture of St Anne, the Blessed Virgin, and Our Lord. While Isaiah foretold the Messiah in his inspired writings, St. Anne was the woman who bore naturally the Blessed Virign, who would bear the Son of God supernaturally. 

This is the main altar, a work by Bernini.

In the last chapel is the artistic highlight of this church: Caravaggio's Madonna of the Pilgrims .

This painting is executed in Caravaggio's characteristic style. It first attracted attention for its portrayal of the worn and dirty pilgrims before the Blessed Virgin, which was seen as scandalous by some. However, with the eye of faith it is only too fitting that it is here. It helps us to reflect on how, just like St Monica aided her son to find Christ, so does Christ's mother aid us through her intercession, so that, stained though, we may be from our journey through this world, we may be received into the presence of her Son.

Third Station: Friday after Ash Wednesday at Ss John and Paul

Passing under arches, we come around the side of this ancient church, built over several Roman ruins.  Among these is the house in which the patrons of this church witnessed to their faith with their lives.  Ss. John and Paul were soldiers who were chosen to serve as functionaries in the Imperial household in the middle of the fourth century.  Although the Imperial family was often in heresy with regard to many of the theological disputes of this time, these two saints were able to continue in their offices while holding to the orthodox faith.  However, when Julian the Apostate ascended to the throne in 360, they were forced with the decision either to embrace the renewed pagan religion or face death.  They refused to cooperate with the Emperor’s demands, and so were executed in their home on this site and buried nearby.  Although such an execution within the city walls was illegal, it is thought that the emperor sought to be as discreet as possible about this matter because of the unpopularity of his command. After the death of Julian in 363, work began to perpetuate the memory of the saints. 

The church would be renovated several times between the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries, with the current interior dating largely from a renovation from 1715-18.  In the late 1850s, the sacristy was added, as well as a large chapel dedicated to St. Paul of the Cross, founder of the Passionist order which serves the basilica.  In the late nineteenth century, archeological excavations and studies of the Roman ruins beneath the house began, with the results being open to the public as a museum today.  From 1948 to 1950, a restoration/renovation was carried out by the Cardinal Spellman of New York, who held the title to this church at that time.  During this time the façade was returned to its medieval appearance.  The interior was also restored; among the additions were chandeliers that had previously hung in the Waldorf-Astoria hotel in New York.  Therefore, the basilica today is a palimpsest of architectural history, from the Roman ruins that make up the foundations, to the modern chandeliers hanging in the nave. (From: Procedamus in Pacem: a Guide to the Station Churches of Rome, PNAC).

Let us Pray

Show gracious favor, O Lord, we pray,

To the works of penance we have begun,

That we may have strength to accomplish with sincerity

The bodily observances we undertake.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy spirit,

One God, for ever and ever. (collect from Mass)

Priests from Casa Santa Maria on their early morning pilgrim to today's stational church

Facade of SS John and Paul's Basilica. Passionist Father's headquaters 

Main altar contenining the relics of SS John and Paul

Tomb of St Paul of the Cross, founder of the Passionists. 

Detail in the cealing of the church depicting ss. John and Paul.

SS. John and Paul basilica is the titular church of Cardinal Egan, former Archbishop of New York and originally a priest from Chicago. Here is his coat of arms.

Archs by the side street of the church

And on our back to home, the best way is to go by the Arch of Constantine and the  Coliseum. 

Second Station: Thursday after Ash Wednesday at St George

Surrounded by the ruins of the empire that put its patron to death, the humble church of St. George in the Velabrum is a continuing reminder of the faith and sacrifice of that great saint.  As we head away from the river in the direction of the church, we see the Arch of Janus (late third/early fourth century after Christ) with its many niches, marking the site of the Forum Boarium, the cattle market of the ancient city.  While very little of his actual story has come down to us, it can be known for certain that he suffered near the current location of Lod, Israel, most likely in the late third or early fourth century.  While many of the stories about St George are largely fictional, they seem to indicate that he was a soldier, possibly of Cappadocian descent, and also that he suffered many tortures before his death.  He later became a popular patron of soldiers, who looked to him as a model for strength in the spiritual life.  His cult became especially popular in Europe when it was brought back with the returning Crusaders.

While the church is currently named for St. George, it has traditionally also been linked with the martyr St. Sebastian.  This is due to the church’s proximity to the location where the battered corpse of the saint was thrown into the Cloaca Maxima, the ancient sewer running underneath the site which still functions today.  The first Christian structure on this site was a diaconia (deaconry), thought to have been established here in the late fifth century.  This was a social services center of the early Roman church, including a distribution center with supplies for the needy, as well as a small chapel.  This may have been placed under the patronage of St. George by the first half of the seventh century, when mention of such was made.  (From: Procedamus in Pacem: a Guide to the Station Churches of Rome, PNAC)

Let us Pray

Prompt our actions with your inspiration, we pray, O Lord,

And further them with your constant help,

That all we do may always begin from you

And by you be brought to completion.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

One God, for ever and ever. (Collect from Mass)

Arch of Janus and the church of St George behind it

Front of the church. Splendid bright morning. who said only Chicago has a mild winter?

Central nave. I like the cibourium upon de altar. Take a close look to the columns. They were recycled from ancient pagan  temples. 

First Station: Ash Wednesday at St Sabina

Ascending the Aventine Hill, we leave the noise of the Lungotevere behind us and continue up the small road that leads past stuccoed walls and grassy parks. The Basilica of St. Sabina is soon seen on the right among the pine trees which surround it.  This church provides an appropriate place to transition into Lent for it itself is a witness to the time of transition in which it was built, during the last days of the Western Roman Empire.  This location is traditionally believed to be near the house of the Roman matron St. Sabina, a widow who was converted to the faith by her slave, Seraphia.  Around the year 126, both Seraphia and Sabina were condemned for being Christians and put to death.  Some remains of earlier buildings have been found next to the church which would be of the correct age to have been either the house of St. Sabina, which some traditions place on this site, or the meeting place of an early Christian community. (From: Procedamus in Pacem: a Guide to the Station Churches of Rome, PNAC)

Let us Pray

Grant, O Lord, that we may begin with holy fasting

This campaign of Christian service,

So that, as we take up battle against spiritual evils,

We may be armed with weapons of self-restraint.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

One God, for ever and ever. (Collect from Mass)

Front entrance to the Basilica of St Sabina

Interior. Central nave of St Sabina. The choir is in front of the altar. 

Create a Pure Heart for me, O God

Friends the holy Season of Lent is upon us. May it be what it is, a season of spiritual renewal for all of us. As we all await the great feast of Easter, we prepare to celebrate it with the joy of minds made pure through prayer, almsgiving and penance. Yes, the ever ancient wisdom of our Church gives witness to it. It is the only way to purify ourselves and make all the room for God in our lives. And please notice, it does not say through prayer OR almsgiving OR penance. It says through all three: PRAYER, ALMSGIVING, PENANCE! America more than ever needs faithful Christians.

Here in Rome the experience of Lent is promised to be one of the spiritual highlights of the year. We are in daily contact to faithful Christians that have preceded us giving up their lives pouring out their blood for our faith. They are the holy martyrs. And during lent, this closeness is clearer with the celebration of the stational Masses around the city.

The stational masses in Rome have its roots as back as the Second Century. Originally it was the practice of the bishop of Rome to say masses in the different churches of the city. Often the churches were associated to the celebration of the day. For example, Good Friday came to be at the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, Christmas at St. Mary Major. After the legalization of Christianity in A.D. 313, the celebration of these masses in other particular churches took an additional significance as the places that held the relics of the martyrs and the memory of the early history of the Church in the city of Rome.

I would like to clarify that stational Masses are just regular Masses celebrated in the Catholic Roman rite, i.e., the same Masses we celebrate anywhere. The use of the term station came to be applied to the place where the Mass was said after a short procession with the pope on fast days. The Christians in those early centuries made a comparison of their fasting and prayer during Lent wit he guard duty of soldiers, seeing their actions as something to be approached with a similar seriousness of purpose.

While other cities such as Jerusalem, Constantinople, and Milan once had similar stational liturgies, Rome is the only city in which these continue in some regular form. Therefore, just like the writings of the fathers and the art of the early Christian era, the stational cycle comes down to us as a monument of the early Church. It is a living connection to those days when the witness of the martyrs was still fresh.

Although today the pope does not go to the stational masses anymore, the tradition, as a Lenten devotion of Romans, still is a popular one to which we gracefully join. The North American College has leaded it for the English speaking community in the city for a long time now. I would like to invite you (and pass the word around to others), to follow me during this Lent in this space as we go from church to church praying, giving alms, and making acts of self-abnegation.

I will post every day a little story of the church, pictures and the collect prayer for Mass. May we enter into the spirit of the prayers that permeate these walls, and join with our predecessors in the praise of the common Lord. 

Angelus Comment on EWTN

Enjoy EWTN news show VATICANO through YOUTUBE. On the link below, pay attention to minutes 9'53" to 12'32" 

The Holy Father has encouraged us with the confidence on our filial condition with God, our condition of God’s children. Maybe we all are not parents, but for sure, we all are children. It is a common condition. It is true that we do not choose to be born, but it is also true that, through our relationship with our parents, we mature the reality that this life is a gift from God, said the pope.

In this sense, our relationship with God is around his paternal figure. He is father, my father, your father, our father. He, the God of all creation and existence is FATHER in a personal and singular way of each one of us. His Holiness has liked to remind us that in this personal relationship with God as Father, we become what we already are, children of his.

This happens through faith, through the profound and personal YES to God as the origin and base of my existence. The pope continued explaining that this faith is based in Jesus Christ, who has made the father known to us. And to believe that Jesus is the Son of God requires being reborn from on high, from God who is love. So, the pope talked of the meaning of baptism, which is a new birth through the grace of the Holy Spirit in the Church’s womb.

Ending the Christmas season, the Holy Father concluded giving thanks to God, who has become man so that we become his children. We renew our faith in the joy of being children as men and women and as Christians and we ask the good God to help us to really live out this condition of children, not only by word but also by facts. 

Holy Night, Silent Night

Merry Christmas!

Friends, among the works of art about the Nativity of Our Lord, one that struck me for its simplicity is George La Tour’s “Adoration of the Shepherds” A classmate presented it to me recently.

The adoration of the sheperds was a common theme among XVII century’s painters. Here, de La Tour presents it with drastic simplicity, without angels, clouds, or halos. De La Tour reveals the capacity to focus on the essential, excluding every superficial detail and concentrates on the effects of the only source of light in the scene. The baby looks like a small mummy, but has a well done asleeping face. The shepherds are people simple but with great dignity. It can be seen in their cloths, hair and the tools for their labor. A little sheep smells the baby and some wheat. Mary appears dominant by the left and her hands are the only ones in an attitude of prayer. Joseph protects them with the heat of a lamp. The hands movements are awesome. They express life: work, nourishment, feast, protection and prayer. De La Tour represents a world of internal light with great serenity. He proposes to see interiorly, which is the only way to feed a presence. The seer is invited to take place to complete the circle around the baby.

Let’s friends take a minute today, in silence, total silence and solitude and take that place to complete the circle opened by Mary, Joseph and the shepherds. Let’s rest in silence in front of Him called by the evangelist the Savior, the Lord Christ.

Like the pope said no so long ago, nothing miraculous, nothing extraordinary, nothing magnificent is given to the shepherds as a sign. All they will see is a child wrapped in swaddling clothes, one who, like all children, needs a mother’s care; a child born in a stable, who therefore lies not in a cradle but in a manger. God ’s sign is the baby in need of help and in poverty. Only in their hearts will the shepherds be able to see that this baby fulfills the promise of the prophet Isaiah, which we heard in the first reading: "For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government will be upon his shoulder" (Is 9:5). Exactly the same sign has been given to us. We too are invited by the angel of God, through the message of the Gospel, to set out in our hearts to see the child lying in the manger.

God’s sign is simplicity. God’s sign is the baby. God’s sign is that he makes himself small for us. This is how he reigns. He does not come with power and outward splendor. He comes as a baby – defenseless and in need of our help. He does not want to overwhelm us with his strength. He takes away our fear of his greatness. He asks for our love: so he makes himself a child. He wants nothing other from us than our love, through which we spontaneously learn to enter into his feelings, his thoughts and his will – we learn to live with him and to practice with him that humility of renunciation that belongs to the very essence of love. God made himself small so that we could understand him, welcome him, and love him.

The Altar de la Patria

Via del Corso displays lights with the Italian flag colors. This year Italy celebrates 150 years as a Republic

Of course, the Coliseum deserves its Christmas tree also.

Via del Corso from the Piazza del Populo

Via Condoti form the Spanish steps

Lost Saints of Rome

I met Luigi in a public transportation bus coming back home from celebrating the Eucharist with the Sisters of Charity of Mother Teresa. I go to their convent the third Saturday of the month to say Mass in the morning. It is always challenging, but I look forward to it. It is the only homily I say in the month. I don’t know what to preach them. They preach to us all the time. However, I preached about hope that day; on how we bring hope to the world just by believing. I got on the bus route number 85 at about 8:30am. The bus was rather crowed. All the seats were taken and many people were standing. Not so rare for Rome. However, I noticed a free seat next to him. Nobody seemed interested on taking it. It was strange. I checked around if anyone else would take it, but not. So without hesitation I took the seat.

Luigi was on the window seat and distracted looking through it. When he realized I was there, he seemed being surprised. He turned his face around from the window and met my eyes. I smiled and felt the smell. I, then, understood why no one was there with him. He turned away again to the window. It was like indifference was his daily bread. I couldn’t resist the desire to talk to him and look at his eyes again. So I touched his shoulder to call his attention. It seemed so foreign to him: touching, attention, affection, importance. He looked at me with reservation but at this time, he smiled back. We never talked but we looked at each other for the rest of the trip, 5 minutes … maybe? That moment was broken when I reached my destination. I got out of the bus astounded and only could come back to myself to take care of my wet face.  

I never have seen him again, but his ragged look, unpronounceable smell, messy hair and bear are in my mind ever since. I wonder in what corner or street he sleeps. What he made me realize wasn’t the great amount of homeless people in Rome but my indifference towards them. And I will guess everybody’s indifference. When they approach us begging for money, we are prompt in turning them away, because we have rationalized their needs and state of life very well. They are lazy, they are addicts, they are just not good. I am not going to patronize it. It is the answer we give to console our attitude. But you know what? Luigi made realized how materialistic we are in that regard. How materialistic they are also in what they beg for. That morning on bus route 85, I saw hopeless and lack of affection; two major expressions of simple no love. I saw my opportunity for simplicity once more. I saw vulnerability ready to be taking care of.

I didn’t know what I should do then. I prayed with Luigi image like for a month or so. I walked around noticing the great number of neighbors sleeping in thresholds, but afraid to approach any. Many ideas came to mind. I thought on preparing as many as possible sandwiches and go out to distribute them. I thought on writing to the FAO (Food and Agriculture Organization) whose headquarters are right here. I thought unbelievable things to do for the homeless. But every time I got excited about any of those doable projects, I noticed each project being dependable of others and my dealings with bureaucracy. Again, Luigi reminded me how materialistic I was thinking. What Luigi begged was for no indifference, affection, simple love.

One recent morning this is what happened. My mother’s birthday was only some weeks ago. I remember growing up, my annual frustration of not being able to buy her a “suitable” gift for the occasion. But the great solution was to surprise her with a rose and breakfast on bed.  She told me stories about it when I called her this year for her birthday. For all of you who know me well, it is not a secret my difficulty to wake up in the mornings. I admire early birds, they are my heroes. I will rise up early to fulfill responsibilities but never for myself. So last Sunday at 6:00 am, I put together all of that. I prepared coffee, put it on a thermo bottle, grabbed some cornetos (Italian breakfast bread) and went down the block. It was chilly. This time I met Bill, Francesco, and Enzo still sleeping on their cardboards. I woke them up and told them I had coffee for breakfast. Again, like Luigi on route 85, they looked almost terrified. But this time, they made room for me to sit on their blankets; we talked, and had breakfast together. 

  

Like the pope said this morning: Prior to all of this is the encounter with Jesus Christ, inflaming us with love for God and for others, and freeing us from seeking our own ego. In the words of a prayer attributed to Saint Francis Xavier: I do good, not that I may come to Heaven thereby and not because otherwise you could cast me into Hell. I do it because of you, my King and my Lord. I came across this same attitude among the Sisters of Mother Teresa, who devote themselves to abandoned, sick, poor and suffering children, without asking anything for themselves, thus becoming inwardly rich and free. 

Getting ready .. I got a small tree!

Via Condoti, leaving Cafe Greco

Who said pasta can't be used as ornaments too!

St Peter's square is also getting ready for the holy night ...SILENT night

Why I Don’t Like Latin, Hate Doing Laundry and Other Student’s Feelings

Hello folks!

It has been a while without a word on these lines. The reason for that, I think, is that I have to experience a little more before Rome became a routine. To cope, I am writing from a table in one of Rome’s best cafés: Caffè Greco, 250 years of tradition.  Not too bad for Rome’s millenarian time table. It was the 18^th century haunt of foreign artists and writers such us Keats, Byron, and Goethe and composers like Liszt, Wagner, and Bizet all breakfasted and drank here. So did Casanova and mad king Ludwig of Bavaria. Today, Italians stand in the crowded foyer to sip a quick espresso, and we foreigners sit in a cozy back room. It seems the perfect place to come and write. It is my first time here and I have wanted to come since the moment I heard about it. However, I am a little disappointed, here are not writers anymore. It is full of snappy tourists. I am sitting in the back room, the one straight ahead down the hall. It is beautiful. It has red walls, paintings with beautiful frames. There is a piano in the corner opposed to me, some sculptures, busts and portraits that recall the café’s former artistic patrons.

I won’t go around the bush with the proposed question. I will answer it right away. Right away, great expression. Every time I hear it or say it, I don’t think of something which will be instant but it reminds me of one of my altar servers at St Edna who said to me the second time I saw him: I will tell you it right away: you are my favorite! A quiet complement for the baby priest I was then, intimidated even by the candles.

Ok now I will go straight. First of all, I don’t like Latin because, at this point of my life, I should know it by now and shouldn’t be studying it still. Furthermore, it takes me a lot of time from doing other things. Secondly, I hate doing laundry for a similar reason. It takes so much time, perhaps, an hour and a half from the moment I decide to do it to the moment I close the closet with everything hung and folded neatly. Also because Mai, in St Edna’s rectory, did it much better than me and it makes me dizzy to watch the watcher and drier machines spinning around. About other student’s feelings, sometimes I feel like going to a particular class where the teacher only reads from his book is such a waste of time. In short, just in case you have not noticed it, what I don’t like about being a student is the amount of time it takes.

But the next question is: what do I need time for? I have all the time for studying! It is my job. But I think I know what I am going through. It is actually a well known syndrome: STFD and DD (student tendency for distractions and daydreaming). Maybe some of you can relate to it. I suffered from it before, back in high school and college. But I think it is always there each time we are labeled with such noble activity.

Now I got distracted with the new set of customers at the table in front. This time there is a young couple with a baby. The mother unloads her bag with baby stuff: a thermo, baby bottle, dippers. The father holds the baby while checking his cell phone. She looks overwhelmed and the infant demands attention. Well, if this is not a writer’s place anymore, definitely it is filled with stuff to write about.

Now going back to our conversation, daydreaming is the closest attitude for prayer, especially when I feel prompted to be distracted from praying. When there is noise behind. When there are people running around in what is supposed to be a quiet place. The solution is to daydream. When I am in that almost mystic experience with my thoughts, I don’t hear anything nor notice anything around. It is only my dream and me, isn’t it? That’s the attitude for prayer in noisy circumstances. It is entering into the silence of myself shutting down the world for a while. Just like daydreaming.

At this point I changed my table. This new one has a very good view and sense of the room. This is a good place, except for the noisy people on the back. I am just going to ignore them because I am distracted writing. By the way, I am drinking tea, just in case anyone wonders.

So I guess what I want to say here is that time and responsibilities go together. It seems like time goes against fulfilling tasks. It is not because time got mad about it; but because I don’t make them to go along well. So I created a strategy against it. Normally and honestly it takes only 20 minutes to do Latin drills; but in real time I spend 2 hours. I don’t wonder what happens with the extra 100 minutes. It is crystal clear, or do you want to guess? I daydream or get distracted by unplanned stuff during those extra minutes. Therefore, the strategy is to plan the distractions beforehand. Every time I will study Latin or have to do laundry I come out with some distraction to go along the way. For example, laundry time is now an hour of spiritual reading. I got down one book so far. I don’t plan to do laundry anymore, but to read some chapters from any spiritual author in the laundry room. It is great, because it is like doing spiritual laundry. I am not sure what that should mean, but it sounds interesting. When I find out its meaning I will tell you. On the other hand, every time I go to a class where the teacher just reads from his book, I read too, and I even make some progress with complementary readings. It actually has given me a little bit more of free time to visit churches around and to practice Latin reading every inscription I see throughout the city. Just like when I learned how to read back in first grade.

In the end, time does not matter so much here, I am in the eternal city anyway. I am enjoying my studies along with the opportunities to live the culture and faith of this town. And the Lord? He is the one who takes all my time, even when I am not in prayer. What I found myself doing with my free time is looking for lost saints in Rome. Like Luigi. ...(will continue )

No, I am not sleeping. I am daydreaming!

This St Peter's basilica. Catholicism's major shrine full of "pilgrims." Imagine praying in this context.

Keeping vigil for the Immaculate Conception Solemnity. Inner courtyard in the house.

Immaculate Conception Column in Piazza Spagna.

The pope has arrived. Prayer service on December 8th.

Traditionally the pope comes on December 8th to pray here. It also has become the event to officially starts the pre Christmas season in the city.

Pope's Mass in St Peter's of Our Lady of Guadalupe commemorating the bicentenial of Latinamerica countries' independencies.

The pope prayed for our continent through the intercession of la Morenita del Tepeyac! He also announced his visit to Mexico and Cuba next spring.



This is the closer I could get.