On Italian Dining and Inner Peace

Our first Saturday in Rome, we were already given the chance to attend a Papal Mass. John Paul II performed these fairly regularly, particularly early in his pontificate, but the ability to travel has in the 30 years since JPII's election brought the throng of tourists to such a swell that it is no longer possible for the Holy Father to stroll through St. Peter's Square. The frequency of Papal Masses seems to have also been affected as Benedict performs public Masses only for special occaisions.

One such occaision happened to land on our first weekend in Rome. The Pope was ordaining new bishops for the first time during his pontificate. Father Carola was able to obtain enough tickets for all to attend, so by 7:30 on Saturday morning, we had joined the queue outside security in St. Peter's Square. The gates opened at 8:00 to a throng of nuns and clerics pressing to obtain a seat near the front. Habits and cassocks fluttered as ordinarily reserved men and women shoved, elbowed and sprinted for a chance to get a seat near the center aisle where could be found the best view of the Pope as he processed in.

We found ourselves toward the back of the madness where things were a bit more civilized. An armed guard waved the woman in front of me through then indifferently asked her to continue along when she stopped after having set off the metal detector. We found seats near the center aisle toward the back of St. Peter's. It was 8:15. The Mass was not beginning until 10:00.

Time actually passed fairly quickly as I took in the most massive church in the world for the first time. It is truly enormous. From where we were seated, I had some difficulty making out the Pope at the High Altar where the Mass was being presided; he was well over 100 meters away. To give some sense of the immensity of the place, that high altar is located 2/3 of the way from the entrance to the back of the Church. Another altar (The Altar of the Chair), is located on the back wall of the Church. On Thursday, a number of us attended the ordination of deacons from the North American College at this altar. The congregation stretched from the altar of the Chair to the High altar (approximately 1/3 of the nave) and it was probably the largest congregation I have ever been a part of. A few thousand were in attendance. The procession included the 21 deacons to be ordained, 8 bishops, the presiding archbishop, hundreds of priests and dozens of other deacons or seminarians serving the Mass. All this fit easily into the back third of St. Peter's. It is huge.

As the Papal Mass began, the lights suddenly brightened and everyone stood expectantly. The Pope was proceeded by a number of cardinals in attendance. At last the the Pope appeared, smiling and sending nuns on either side of the aisle into a delirium of joy. The Mass itself was beautiful. It was in Latin. The Sistine Chapel choir sang beautifully. Sadly, all the grandiosity and the hubbub prevented me from entering into the liturgy. I was a long way from the action listening to words I could not understand in a chair that was a bit too small in an environment that was extremely distracting. I was not prepared for this, so in spite of the beauty of the ceremony and the impressiveness of the whole scene, I had a difficult time finding the presence of God. In the simple chapel at the Missionaries of Charity, I felt as though I could taste Christ's presence. At the most magnificent Church in the world, He was only vaguely present. What a curious thing such feelings are.

The afternoon passed quickly with more orientation. That evening a few folks began murmuring of finding a place to have dinner. Fr. Carola offered to show the way to a local ristorante owned by a friend of his if a few people were looking to have dinner. He dispatched a seminarian to find those interested in such a venture and he returned with 17 more. Off we went for a most authentic taste of Italian dining.

The restaurant was in a tiny alley near the Piazza Navona. When we arrived, we found 10 or so tables for 2-4 mostly filled with patrons. This was a tiny place. We were a group of 19. Father entered, embraced the wife and greeted the owner and informed him of our intention to dine. We were in luck. His private room was empty at the moment. It would take only a few minutes to set the table for us. True to his word, a few minutes later the small, animated owner ushered us in to the back of the restaurant past a shelf stocked with many normal wine bottles and one monstrous bottle to a long table which barely fit from end to end in the room. Menus were handed out, but proved to be a formality as with a group that size it would be much easier on their simple if all ordered the same dish. Providentially, the owner had just gone out that day to buy food for a group our size coming in the following day for lunch. He suggested that we simply eat what was intened for the next day, to this we agreed.

Now we had to decide on wine. The man was most excited to inform us that he had a gigantic bottle of Chianti that would be just right for a group our size. After discussing the cost, we agreed, and sure enough the giant 5L bottle we spotted on our way in was brought to the table. It was very good wine, yet I still had trepidations as to whether we were up to the task of conquering such a behemoth. But I needn't have worried. We are all Catholic after all and proved more than up to the task.

Our meal began with the antipasti, bruschetta. Bolstered with a bit of extra olive oil, it was delicious. Conversation was pleasant and relaxed. After an ample amount of time, the owner and one of the wait staff returned to bus our dishes and begin serving the primi piatti, a simple penne pomodoro (pasta with red sauce). I was very impressed to find the owner of the restaurant a most amiable man who worked right alongside his staff. Taking orders, busing tables, chatting with patrons; he seemed the sort of man one could be proud to work for.

The pasta course was wonderful. Conversation was burgeoning as wine glasses were sent back to be refilled. Much conversation centered around the giant bottle. Thankfully, Will, a man of great functional strength, was seated near the middle to pour the wine, for a lesser man could hardly accomplish such a feat. A few of the women wished to save room for the meat course, so John and I happily finished their portion making everyone at our end of the table members of the Clean Plate Club. The secondi piatti was roasted pork served alongside mashed potatoes drizzled with some sort of glaze that I probably ate to quickly to taste (after which, I toasted to my father...inside family joke). By the time we finished the final course, the wine had all but run drop. Will poured the final drop into Matt Wanner's glass to a raucous applause from the dinner party. We quickly digressed to posing for pictures with the giant bottle as though glorying in the spoils of our victory. Care for the bottle was entrusted to Jared Johnson, who shepherded it as he would a child all the way back to Bernardi. On our way, we stopped for gelato near the Pantheon (by near, I mean twenty feet away).

And so, we wrapped up a proper night in Rome. All went back content and considerably lighter in the wallet. Such a dinner will probably happen once more if at all on our trip, but it was an experience to treasure complete with a keepsake tucked safely in Jared's room.

The next day was Sunday and we were, for the most part, free. I awoke that morning, said morning prayer from the breviary, then looked ahead to the day. We had orientation at 2:30 until Mass at 6:00 followed by dinner. Until 2:30, I had no obligations. This, I believe, will be the greatest blessing of my time in Rome. At school, I have so many things to think about each day from classwork to clubs to reserach to housework to feeding myself that it is difficult to find times for prayer and what's worse, those times I set aside for God I have a hard time pulling my mind away from the rest of my life to focus on what is most important. Here in Rome, I will have homework to do and that is about all. Service work will happen, but is less an obligation than an reward. I have nothing more to do beyond that than find a place to eat. I don't even need to cook for myself. Life is greatly simplified. The combined affect of this simplicity with the grace of the many prayers being said to God for my intention are already leaving me with a sense of peace and a fervor for holiness that I have not had in quite some time. How wonderful it is. I have been very happy thus far in Rome. A peaceful sort of happiness. So thank you to all who have kept me in their prayers.

I spent Sunday morning reading a novel loaned to me by Nick Michels called Fr. Elijah. It is a wonderful piece of apocalyptic literature that I will shamelessly plug here in this blog as a book for all to read. I prayed a Rosary and felt great consolation afterward. The peace in my heart lasted throughout the day. To cap off the wondeful day, after sending an e-mail to my parents, I talked on the phone with Rachel for the first time since arriving lifting my spirits to even greater heights. I went to bed that night close to God and to those that I love; I was a blessed and happy man. Thank you for reading.