Part III: Beato Giovanni Paolo II

I think I squealed with joy when it fully hit me that I had made it to St. Peter’s for the Basilica. Yes, before I made it back to where I was staying I had been standing for 14 straight hours and went without a bathroom for 18 hours. Yes, I was achy and tired. But I was so close to Pope Benedict XVI in the moment when he declared that Papa John Paul will forever have a “Blessed” in front of his name. And I was there to witness it, to share the joy of it, to sing “Amen” to it, and to carry the intentions of family and friends to it.

While we hugged the barricade, still thinking that the Holy Father would go past us, police and volunteers came to those around us and told them they had to move. But for the hour or so that they approached those next to us – even shoulder-to-shoulder with us, they never told us that we had to leave. Chuckling and mystified, we began to wonder if we were invisible. And I turned to my American friend in Rome and said that John Paul was clearly taking care of us.

But our invisibility changed quickly when we were approached by a journalist who requested an interview. He arranged for us to stand on the other side of the barricade and began asking various questions about John Paul II, all being filmed for an Italian news service. He hadn’t even walked away when another journalist approached – this one from Catholic News Agency – requesting another interview. And so more JPII questions began, all being filmed.

But this wasn’t the end. During the entire beatification Mass, one camera or another would frequently be zoomed in on me. I’m not sure why. At one point there were three different cameras, all pointed at my face. Perhaps I looked like a pilgrim – tired eyes, sunburned face, greasy hair, mismatched clothes, but despite it all tears on my face, expressive eyes and a smile. Whatever it was, I guess will never know if my joyful participation was reflected onto televisions in Brazil, Chile, France, Germany, Italy, the United States. Even Al Jazeera was there.

Before the beatification Mass began, the crowd sang the Divine Mercy Chaplet in several languages. There were meditations before each decade.

At 10 am, the music began, and soon Pope Benedict XVI was waving and smiling from his popemobile (which, unfortunately, did not pass by the barricade we were so firmly convinced he would). The crowd cheered as we saw the Holy Father on the jumbotron. Before Mass began, volunteers distributed prayer cards of John Paul II and beautiful books with the prayers and music of the Mass.

The actual beatification took place after the Kyrie and before the Gloria. Cardinal Vallini came to the microphone and presented John Paul II for beatification. He then proceeded to read a biography of the late Holy Father. Even though I understand minimal Italian, I was able to decipher many of the words the Cardinal was saying. And I had tears in my eyes as I heard the legacy of John Paul II. What an incredible gift to the Church and the world! His writings, his travels, his passion for families, his interest in people. The young people cheered as Cardinal Vallini mentioned John Paul’s love of youth. After all, that was why we had waited all night long to stand with one or two million others from around the world. Because John Paul had come to us.

After the reading of the biography, Pope Benedict XVI made the official announcement, declaring Blessed John Paul II and his feast day of October 22. We cheered and clapped for ten minutes. The applause wouldn’t stop. The banner of the new blessed was unveiled as the cheering continued. What a gift to the Church! And what a gift to be there, to be able to sing, “Amen” after the proclamation and to able to cheer and thank God for the gift of our newest blessed.

When the applause had subsided, the choir began the “Gloria.” Mass proceeded. Receiving Communion seemed nearly impossible, with bewildered priests unsure of which direction in which to turn next, as they found themselves surrounded by pilgrims wishing to receive the Eucharist. Communion was distributed solely on the tongue.

The Holy Father blessed us. We all cheered. The Polish flags continued to wave. John Paul was now a blessed.

And now the chaos of leaving the Square began. Bl. John Paul II’s tomb was available for veneration inside the basilica, yet we were all herded out of the Square. Once again, I was pushed, pulled, and moved throughout the mass of humanity. A thread in my new scarf got caught in a Polish woman’s backpack and acted like a fishing rod, attaching me to her. Eventually, she was stopped by a man who saw my dilemma, and I was able to continue shuffling through the Square.

It took about two hours to return to where I was staying – there was walking and waiting and impossibly crowded bus riding, followed by more walking and the refreshment of a can of coke (complete with a straw, as this is the Italian way). I had enough time for a brief nap, before a long walk to the tram (the buses were still running irregularly, due to the crowds miles away from the beatification), which took me to the train station, which eventually brought me to the airport. I spent Sunday night at the airport, fighting to keep my eyes open after nearly 48 hours of being awake.

Monday morning found me on a plane to Brussels, then to Chicago, and finally back to Cincinnati. The last leg left me 69 hours without normal sleep (do catnaps on a plane really count?), but the sleeplessness, blisters, swollen ankles, and tired joints were worth the sacrifice, and were really part of the prayer of the trip.

And that is how I participated in the largest beatification in history. How remarkable our Catholic faith – that a man who I never met personally but who has so radically impacted my life would inspire me to travel thousands of miles and go three nights without sleep in order to be one of 1-2 million celebrating the declaration of his holiness in person! And how remarkable our Catholic faith – that I would be able to thank a man I never met who impacted me (and continues to impact me), and know that he can hear my gratitude. And I can count on his prayers.

Part II: Getting to the most crowded beatification in history

On Saturday, April 30, I was set to meet a friend from the US who is studying in Rome at 11 pm to wait in “line.” My American mind considered that the line for the beatification would consist of a long, narrow, snaking but orderly chain of people, patiently waiting for the gates of St. Peter’s to open at 5:30 am. When we neared the basilica, however, I remembered that I was in Europe. There was certainly no order to the sea of humanity. There were sleeping bags and cardboard boxes, guitars and bongos, backpacks and plastic bags, waving flags and Vatican-“emblemed” inflatable hands. So we weaved through the crowds, attempting to find a comfortable place to set up camp for the night. Eventually, we found an open side street that feeds onto the Via de Conciliazione – the main street leading to the Vatican, which was closed at 11 pm.

Amidst a pack of pilgrims from around the world (but in our corner of the street, the majority were from Poland), we set up camp. For about an hour or so, we listened to Polish hymns, praise and worship and a beautifully sung Rosary. We watched with humor and horror as more people attempted to cram into the already-full street. At times, young people would yell, “No!” as they saw more individuals squeeze through the crowd, stepping on people, knocking faces with heavy backpacks and fighting forward with iron wills and determination. Those in the crowd who were attempting to get some sleep, stared at the sky with wide-open eyes, hopefully grateful that they at least had a couple of feet in which to lie down, as opposed to the mere inches the rest of us were fighting to keep.

At about 1 am, there was a crescendoed whisper among the crowd. Within seconds everyone was on their feet, scrambling to pack their few belongings, deflate air mattresses, roll sleeping bags and save guitars from a (literally) crushing fate. And then the smushing began. Each pilgrim seemed to believe that no millimeter in the street should be left without the comfort of a human person filling it. And so we were pushed, pulled, moved, tugged, and contortioned for several minutes, always inching forward toward the Via de Conciliazione.

It wasn’t long before the barricades in front of the main road leading to the Vatican were removed, and overly eager pilgrims began pushing themselves past the guards, ignoring booming yells to “Fermare!” (stop!). A few official volunteers, designated by their yellow vests (which aptly said in Italian, “Be not afraid” on the back), assisted the police in holding back the crowds … or at least those of the crowds obedient enough to wait a few moments before cramming onto a new street. Once onto the Via de Conciliazione, pilgrims would run with startling urgency to get as close to the front as possible.

Eventually we made it onto the main road, deciding to stay close to the barricade, which we assumed would guard the popemobile in the morning. And there we stood for the next several hours. Yes, stood. The sixty or seventy year old Polish woman to my right scooted her plastic stool to touch my foot. Another woman behind me tapped me on the leg and asked me in another language to move forward. Move where? I gestured. Moving was impossible. In fact, the greatest crisis of the middle of the night was the consistent call to police and volunteers from members of the crowd for a bathroom. One man whined in Italian, “Look at me – a grown man crying like a baby!” Another responded to police who pointed out a portalet on the other side of the road, “I want to see you get over there in this crowd!” So, in the Italian’s casual, laid back style, individuals were let past the barricade throughout the night in order to be escorted to bathrooms within St. Peter’s square. The rest of us simply waited.

We stood. We watched people of varying ages and constitutions pass out throughout the night. Each was led to the barricade, while a volunteer held his feet in the air and dumped a packet of zucchero (sugar) into his mouth. Eventually the individual would be escorted away – either back into the crowd or to a medical assistance tent in a different area. We saw some stretchers and some wheelchairs. We watched the medical personnel take turns smoking cigarettes as they paced back and forth, telling jokes to each other or to members of the crowd, leaning on the barricade.

We stood. We leaned on the barricade. We talked about how this event (which was more aptly a pre-event, and not an event in itself) resembled a World Youth Day, but without an age limit. We marveled at the men and women in their sixties and seventies who had resolutely determined to find a spot in St. Peter’s Square, even if it meant sacrificing a night of sleep.

We stood. We prayed that the rain predicted to fall at 2 am would pass us by. We took a deep breath when a rain drop or two fell in the middle of the night. Amazingly, those few drops were the only ones to fall.

We stood. We watched the clock, wondering if perhaps the police would let us into the Square before 5:30 am. As 5:30 inched closer, the crowds became more restless, deciding to attempt the impossible feat of cramming even closer, as if a fraction of an inch meant the difference between passing through the Square or remaining in the street.

When the Square was finally opened, we waited for 2-3 more hours, creeping along the barricade, hoping to get a spot within the arms of the Church. And finally at about 8:30 am, we made it! Finding a spot along the barricade, just feet outside of the technical Square, but within the St. Peter’s area and near a jumbotron, we decided to stake out our spot. What a miracle! Still standing, with perhaps a million or more people behind us, we had arrived at our destination.

Part III: Beato Giovanni Paolo II ...

Part I: Arriving in Roma

I promised a full account of my recent pilgrimage to the Eternal City, and I have finally made up my mind to pound furiously on my keyboard until the story is on paper (or more accurately, on the screen). What a trip! It was really a whirlwind, with only 4 days in Italy and 2 travel days. I suppose a benefit of barely sleeping on a trip in a different country is that jetlag is nonexistent. Exhaustion takes its place, but in this case was well worth it.

On Wednesday, I departed from Cincinnati to Dulles, where I awaited my transatlantic flight. While we sat on the runway, seconds from take-off, the pilot informed us that severe weather was upon us. When sitting on a runway, at the window seat, this is not the most welcome news. In my mind, I heard my great aunt, who spent Easter weekend recounting the stories she had heard about a plane in St. Louis that was picked up off the runway by a tornado. So, I sat slightly amused and maybe a little worried, watching the torrential rains and staccato lightening, while feeling the plane sway a bit from the wind. After three hours of waiting on the runway, we finally took off into a lightning-studded sky. It felt a bit like landing in a war movie, with bombs lighting up the evening sky. It didn’t take long for me to decide to close the shudder on the window, so as to not watch my impending death.

And of course the impending death did not occur. I landed in Rome, mid-morning on Thursday. There is something almost breathtaking about walking away from an 11 hour flight, groggy and disoriented, and then looking up to see a poster of John Paul II’s beaming smile, with the words he spoke to the youth from his death bed: “I have looked for you. Now you have come to me. And I thank you.” That was all the confirmation I needed that the long journey was worth it. (And that the subsequent blisters, sleeplessness, cramped quarters and crazy adventures would be worth it too.)

John Paul was everywhere in Rome – in the airport, on the sides of buses, smiling from lampposts, waving in church doors. Souvenir stores were bursting at the seams with JPII memorabilia – postcards, key chains, medals, stickers, candles, bookmarks, prayer cards, mouse pads, pens, pins, tapestries, T-shirts. And lines of people waited to buy items with John Paul’s face or with the date of his beatification imprinted.

St. Peter’s Basilica was the place to be, even days before the beatification. And the area nearby was the place to see people – Carl Anderson (Supreme Knight of the Knights of Columbus, who I was able to thank for his support of my alma mater, the Pontifical John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and Family), papal biographer George Weigel, Catholic evangelist Fr. Robert Barron. There were friends from college who I would “randomly” run into, and thousands of strangers from around the world. Poles were everywhere! I think I saw more red and white flags than the Italian red, white and green.

In the days before the beatification, I was able to spend some time praying at various sites in Rome – St. Cecilia’s tomb, St. Paul’s tomb, St. Mary in Trastevere (where I was able to spend time with some dear Italian friends and attend Mass for the benediction of the new office of the Catholic Fraternity of Charismatic Covenant Communities and Fellowships).

On April 29, the feast day of St. Catherine of Siena, I prayed at her tomb in Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. They open the back of her glass-enclosed tomb on her feast, allowing pilgrims to step inside the glass, resting their hands and rosaries on the cement that covers her body. Only in Rome!

Part II: Getting to the most crowded beatification in history …

Quote book

"God loves us; we need only to summon up the humility to allow ourselves to be loved." -- Pope Benedict XVI

And I'm back!

Ciao, ciao! I have returned from the Eternal City, after the incredible gift of witnessing John Paul II's beatification first hand. I know I promised a full report, and I still intend to give one, but the pictures and descriptions may not make it onto the blog today.

But, I would like to say -- Blessed John Paul II, pray for us!

10 favorite quotes from Blessed John Paul II

In honor of the newly beatified John Paul II, here are ten of my favorite quotes from his epic legacy (although, honestly, limiting this to ten was very difficult!):

10) "Life with Christ is a wonderful adventure."

9) “Chastity is a difficult, long term matter; one must wait patiently for it to bear fruit, for the happiness of loving kindness which it must bring. But at the same time, chastity is the sure way to happiness” (Love and Responsibility, 172).

8) "Trust Christ because Christ trusts you" (World Youth Day 2002).

7) “In any case, in the path of love which life entails, always remember that above every love there is one Love. One Love. Love without constraint or hesitation. It is the love with which Christ loves each one of you.”

6) "Do not be afraid to go out on the streets and into public places like the first apostles who preached Christ and the Good News of salvation in the squares of cities towns and villages. This is no time to be ashamed of the Gospel. It is time to preach it from the rooftops (World Youth Day 1993).

5) God "has assigned as a duty to every man the dignity of every woman" (TOB).

4) "In fact, femininity has a unique relationship with the Mother of the Redeemer, a subject which can be studied in greater depth elsewhere. Here I simply wish to note that the figure of Mary of Nazareth sheds light on womanhood as such by the very fat that God, in the sublime event of the Incarnation of his Son, entrusted himself to the ministry, the free and active ministry of a woman. It can thus be said that women, by looking to Mary, find in her the secret of living their femininity with dignity and of achieving their own true advancement. In the light of Mary, the Church sees in the face of women the reflection of a beauty which mirrors the loftiest sentiments of which the human heart is capable: the self-offering totality of love; the strength that is capable of bearing the greatest sorrows; limitless fidelity and tireless devotion to work; the ability to combine penetrating intuition with words of support and encouragement" (Redemptoris Mater #46).

3) “It is Jesus that you seek when you dream of happiness; He is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; He is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is He who provoked you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is He who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is He who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle.

It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be ground down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and more fraternal” (World Youth Day 2000).

2) “Man cannot live without love. He remains a being that is incomprehensible for himself, his life is senseless, if love is not revealed to him, if he does not encounter love, if he does not experience it and make it his own, if he does not participate intimately in it. This, as has already been said, is why Christ the Redeemer "fully reveals man to himself". If we may use the expression, this is the human dimension of the mystery of the Redemption. In this dimension man finds again the greatness, dignity and value that belong to his humanity. In the mystery of the Redemption man becomes newly "expressed" and, in a way, is newly created. He is newly created!” (Redemptor Hominis #10)

1) “Life is a talent (cf. Mt 25:14-30) entrusted to us so that we can transform it and increase it, making it a gift to others. No man is an iceberg drifting on the ocean of history. Each one of us belongs to a great family, in which he has his own place and his own role to play. Selfishness makes people deaf and dumb; love opens eyes and hearts, enabling people to make that original and irreplaceable contribution which, together with the thousands of deeds of so many brothers and sisters, often distant and unknown, converges to form the mosaic of charity which can change the tide of history" (World Youth Day 1996).

"Jesus, I trust in you"

Divine Mercy Sunday! What a gift to be able to celebrate the incredible mercy of the Lord. It's the perfect day to go to confession, pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet and reflect on the goodness of God.

And I'll be doing that from St. Peter's Square (I hope!) for the Mass of John Paul II's beatification.

Let's make our motto that of St. Faustina -- "And so, trusting in Your mercy, I will walk through life like a little child. Offering You each day this heart burning with love for Your greater glory."