Going Home to Rome: A pilgrimage renews the call to life, love and hope

By Emily Woodham

Staff Writer

Editor’s note: The following is a first-person account of ICR staff writer Emily Woodham’s recent trip to the Vatican.

Sunlight broke through billowing gray clouds as icy winds blew through St. Peter’s Square on the morning of Wednesday, Nov. 26.

Tens of thousands of people from around the world streamed in through the

Vatican security lines to see Pope Leo XIV in

Pope Leo XIV waves from his popemobile.

(ICR Photo/Emily Woodham)

a general audience, including my husband, David; our two youngest daughters, Evelyn, 11, and Julianna, 8; and me.

We shuffled our way to one of the barriers in the back and waited as people filled in on either side of us. A friend told me that it was best to stand at a barrier where you could see the pope up close, even if only briefly, as he passed by in his popemobile. It was our seventh day in Rome and our second opportunity to see the Holy Father.

We were grateful that the heavy rains of the previous two days had finally diminished to occasional sprinkles. We were cold and tired, but our pilgrimage to Rome was quickly coming to a close. After the audience, we had less than 48 hours before we had to start the rigmarole of journeying back home.

We planned our pilgrimage to Rome way back in January. This year marked the 10th anniversary of our family becoming Catholic — Aug. 9, 2015, the feast of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein). So, it seemed appropriate to mark the momentous 10-year anniversary and the Jubilee of Hope with a visit to the home of the Catholic Church, the See of St. Peter.

We chose the end of November for the practical reason that our daughters had a week off from school during Thanksgiving break and the not-so-practical reason of indulging our love of music by being there during the feast of St. Cecilia and the Jubilee of Choirs.

We left Boise in the all-too-early hours of the morning on Wednesday, Nov. 19. Our adult children could not come with us, so we carried them in our hearts and prayers.

Interior of St. Peter’s Basilica. (ICR photo/Emily Woodham)

After more than 24 hours of flying and layovers, we finally arrived at our Airbnb apartment in Rome in the afternoon on Thursday, Nov. 20.

Less than a week after our arrival, while standing in St. Peter’s Square, I could barely recall what we did the first day we were in Rome. I vaguely remember eating a comforting pizza dinner, walking to St. Peter’s Basilica under a starry sky and then going into a church that was actually open late at night, the Church of St. Mary of Transpontina.

After we prayed and lit candles, Julianna noticed a huge Nativity display in a side altar. It was a complete village, with moving figures that bustled about their ordinary lives of shopkeeping and farming. In the middle of it all was the Holy Family, lovingly centered on baby Jesus.

As we waited for the general audience to begin, the warmth of that church and the Nativity scene seemed in the distant past. We were so tired despite all that my husband and I did to keep a reasonable schedule with a rhythm of eating, sightseeing and rest.

In our first two days, we somehow made it to St. Peter’s Basilica, the Vatican Museums, the Sistine Chapel, the papal audience for the Jubilee of Choirs, the tomb of St. Cecilia and a marvelous dinner with Cindy Wooden, the retiring editor-in-chief of the Rome bureau for Catholic News Service. In the midst of that were more restaurants and churches, a constant banquet for body and soul.

Our hearts were full, but we were exhausted. So, on our fourth morning in Rome, we abandoned our reservations to the papal Mass and Angelus. We slept in, had a fun breakfast and went to Mass at St. Patrick’s American Catholic Church. It was the parish’s monthly “family Mass,” with a homily geared for children, all in English. Our daughters were comforted and happy in an atmosphere that was more like home. It was just what our weary family needed.

From then on, we were more careful to be in tune with how much we could really handle as a family. After all, humans are not machines.

We surrendered plans and expectations each day in order to be sure that we were all well fed and rested enough to enjoy our journey. We had to say “no” to some really fantastic things so that we had the wherewithal to truly appreciate the awesome things we did experience.

This seems to be so much the vocation of family life. If we want to be healthy and connected, we have to choose wisely what we do with our time and make space for rest. There are so many good experiences in life to choose from, especially in the Church. But even if everything we do is good, we will miss the point of our vocation if we don’t make time for our relationships.

A traditional, highly-detailed nativity scene at the Vatican. (ICR photo/ Emily Woodham)

As we slowed down on our pilgrimage and were choosier about what we did, we had more time to listen to one another about likes and dislikes. We also cracked more jokes and really laughed together.

When, at last, the general audience began, we had been guarding our space at the barrier for more than an hour. After Pope Leo passed by and waved at our family and the hundreds around us, it was tempting to leave. The wind was bitter, especia- lly whenever a dark gray cloud passed in front of the sun. We moved to the interior of the crowd in hopes of getting more shielded from the wind and for a better view of the pope’s podium. Thankfully, our stubbornness paid off.

Pope Leo’s teaching that morning spoke direc- tly to our hearts. The current series in the general audiences is “Christ Our Hope.” That day his topic was: “The Resurrection of Christ and the Challenges of the Contemporary World: Hoping in Life in Order to Beget Life.”

As he spoke about rejecting the messages against life born of fear and darkness—I kid you not—the clouds parted even further, sunlight pouring onto the basilica and the square.

In his summary, Pope Leo said:

“Life is, first and foremost, a gift from God who has created us out of love. One of the temptations prevalent today is a lack of trust in God’s goodness and love. Perhaps we no longer experience life as a gift because we are weighed down by its burdens, but the Risen Christ reminds us that God is always faithful to His plan of love.

Trusting in God, we are invited to participate in this plan of life and of love by generating life. For those of you living the vocation of married life, this means discovering the gift and adventure of motherhood and fatherhood, in which you are called to participate in bringing new lives into this world and preparing them for the life that is eternal. Do not be afraid of this adventure, but prayerfully open yourselves to the gift of life, trusting in the God who we know loves us.”

Although it would take a miracle for my husband and me to have more children (we’re 61 and 52, respectively), Pope Leo’s teaching on openness to life was affirming in our choosing life despite difficulties and societal pressures.

His message encouraged us to continue to pursue all that is lifegiving, which seems to be encompassed in those timeless transcendentals of truth, goodness and beauty. It also reminded me of one of my favorite refrains in the Liturgy of the Hours: “O Lord, our God, unwearied is your love for us.”

God is faithful to His plan of love, and that love is unconditional. We can fight against the darkness and culture of death with courage, knowing He never tires of loving us. He will never let go of us.

Our last day in Rome, we went to the beach at Ostia. Hearing our daughters laugh as they splashed their feet at the edge of the Mediterranean and picked out shells to take home was treasure for our hearts.

The tomb of Saint Cecilia. (ICR photo/ Emily Woodham)

There may be crosses we have to carry on our journey, but there is also unrivaled joy, even whimsy and fun.

That night, we walked by St. Peter’s one last time. Shops along the path to the basilica already had lights and garland strung around their doors and windows. The Vatican’s Christmas tree was in the square, ready for decoration. The Nativity scene was nearby; its top peaked out from heavy drapes in anticipation of its unveiling on the Second Sunday of Advent.

Like the Nativity scene that we saw on our first night in Rome, the Holy Family will be in the middle of crowds and busyness.

The display of Jesus, Mary and Joseph is a display of love, courage and humility. It is an invitation for each of us to be still and not to be afraid.

We can hope and be assured, for He is God, full of unwearied love for us, and He is faithful to His plan of love.