Sister Maria Patricia. | Photo by Nathan Vickers.

Roman Catholics travel to the south of Italy to visit the shrine of a popular saint in San Giovanni Rotondo because they believe this journey will change their lives. It is the second-most visited Catholic shrine in the world and it centers on the tomb of Saint Pio of Pietrelcina, a Capuchin friar and priest known for his unwavering devotion to God, care for the sick and supernatural gifts.

During a pilgrimage to the quaint town of over 26,000 residents, it is customary to visit Padre Pio’s tomb — located in the basement of the Church of Santa Maria delle Grazie. Visitors touch the casket of the revered saint, asking for miracles. A touch so powerful, Sister Maria Patricia never left San Giovanni Rotondo after her brush with the saint.

“I’m very happy because Padre Pio is a great saint,” Patricia said with a slight smile. “I came from a poor family, but God brought me here.”

Patricia is from Tamil Nadu, India and became a nun a little over 20 years ago. She had always hoped to move to Italy after she first visited in 1999. She said that God allowed her to serve in Rome and the Philippines before her most recent journey to this city on the hill in 2004.

“I was thinking, how can I go to Italy,” said Patricia. “That location is the gift of God. God chooses, not you.”

Patricia said her faith in the power of Saint Pio stemmed from the Capuchin friar’s piety. She said his closeness with God was a model for all believers.

“Padre Pio was very prayerful,” she said. “If we are not prayerful we don’t have that experience with God. You can’t make that experience for yourself, you have to talk with God.”

Patricia, who comes from the Apostles of Jesus Crucified order, went on to say that she believed in Pio’s power as a second iteration of Christ.

“[Pio] saved many souls,” she said. “Christ is living, but Padre Pio is a symbol like that. Padre Pio is now in Christ.”

Patricia had just left the Saturday morning mass which she routinely attends to ponder the many miracles reported by Pio’s followers. She said she was particularly inspired by the saint’s ability to heal both the physically and spiritually ill, something she hopes to do in her own work as a nun. For that, Padre Pio is her inspiration.

“We must meditate on the saints,” she said as the noon bells rung in the church behind her. “Because we cannot help ourselves, especially for our soul.”

Small Portrait hanging in the Casa Sollievo della Sofferenza hospital. | Photo by Nathan Vickers.

Padre Pio, easily the most popular saint of the 20th century was famous for his miracles and mysticism. One of his most striking features were his eyes. Many people in our class found his striking, deeply set eyes unsettling. But the followers we talked to found them inspiring, even comforting. One nun I talked to said, “Padre Pio had innocent eyes.”

Regardless, his piercing gaze is as easily recognizable as his tremendous beard and the trademark half-gloves he wore to cover up the stigmata on his hands. Images depicting an aged Padre Pio depict the lack of sleep the monk reportedly underwent in order to spend time meditating, praying, and even battling demons.

An early morning run took me by some of Rome’s most famous landmarks. As the sun came up, the city transformed from a quiet cluster of ancient buildings into the bustling tourist center it is today. But for the few minutes before dawn Rome resembled the city it was 2000 years ago.

Licking the Coliseum. | Photo by Francesca Trianni.

On the dawn of the Ides of March I licked the Colosseum.

In case you don’t get the reference, my “taste” in early morning activity was inspired by an episode of “How I Met Your Mother,” where two of the main characters licked the Liberty Bell just to say they did. But it wasn’t just a tongue-in-cheek reference to a television sitcom.

For me, licking the Colosseum represented making the most out of our class trip, which was my first time out of the United States. It was something I imagined no one had done before, at least not of their own volition. It also represented the climax to what was hands-down the best day of my life thus far.

You see, before I licked the colosseum I was with my classmate, Hoda Emam, and our teaching assistant, Francesca Trianni, interviewing Libyan refugees until the wee hours of the morning. You’ll find out more about that story later. I had never met a refugee before, and to interview people who had experienced such tragedy firsthand was in itself a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And before that, I had dinner with Mary McAlese, the former President of Ireland. The best part of the story is that I didn’t even realize it was her until Professor Goldman informed me after supper. I had never met a president before.

And before that, I was working with Hoda interviewing a diplomat from the Congo.

And before that, I visited a mosque for the first time. I had no idea what to expect, having received many condemning pamphlets and emails from conservative Missourians over the years.

Mismatched socks | Photo by Nathan Vickers

It was actually very nice, possibly one of the most open and friendly places of worship I have ever visited. I even stood on the prayer line, which would probably give many of my friends from home a heart attack.  But I didn’t realize we had to take off our shoes — it was the wrong day to wear mismatched socks.

And before the mosque I received a blessing from the pope at an Angelus service in St. Peter’s square. It was spectacular but I couldn’t manage to focus my camera as he passed.

It’s pretty amazing when taking a picture of the Pope is the low point of your day.

The class enters the Ponte Sant'Angelo Methodist Church in Rome. | Photo by Nathan Vickers.

ROME — Our experience in Italy so far has been one of religious diversity within a deeply Catholic society. Following last night’s visit to the synagogue, we visited a Waldensian/Italian Methodist church, a Russian Orthodox church and the Press Office of the Holy See.

Waldensian Pastor Lucca Barato and British Methodist Pastor, Reverend Kenneth Howcroft ,joined us at Ponte Sant’Angelo Methodist Church, where we learned about Italy’s small but important Protestant community. The church’s sanctuary was tiny, but we were surprised to learn that it draws in about 60 people each Sunday.

“It’s hard to imagine that many people inside there,” said Sarah Laing. “I would have thought it was much less than that.”

Italy’s Protestant community is augmenting quickly due to an increasing immigrant population. Barato and Howcroft both pointed out that Italy’s increasingly diverse population is creating greater demand for religious plurality.

Howcroft said it’s hard to be diverse in a country where Catholicism is completely ingrained in the culture.

“Where religion becomes the culture, the culture becomes the religion,” he said.

Hoda Emam and Raya Jalabi chatting with the Reverend Kenneth G. Howcroft of the Ponte Sant'Angelo Methodist Church. | Photo by Nathan Vickers.

It’s nearly impossible to avoid the Catholic Church in Italy. As Barato joked,”Even the Protestants in Italy are Catholic.”

After a brief worship service at the Methodist Church we visited the Press Office of the Holy See and walked a few blocks to St. Catherine’s Russian Orthodox Church. The building sits upon a steep hill that the Vatican had leveled so the Russian Orthodox Church would not outshine the Catholic Church, according to Professor Goldman.

The beautiful porcelain and gold iconostasis of the church’s two sanctuaries were a wonder to behold.

“I thought it was beautiful,” said our classmate, Brandon Gates, “It’s not something you see everyday, in the churches I go to. But I thought it was appropriate, because if God is the most high… how can we offer reverence but with the finest jewels in the world to worship Him?”

One distinct feature of a Russian Orthodox church is the lack of chairs in the sanctuary. Archpriest Igor Vyzhanov, whose wife and newborn child were also in attendance, made it clear that Russians believe that standing during worship is a sign of piety in a thick Russian accent.

“In the Greek church you will see chairs. In the Lebanese and Syrian churches, chairs. In Serbian church you sometimes see them,” he said, pausing solemnly before frowning and adding, “In Russia we do not use chairs.”

Photo courtesy of The AP.

Sean and Anna Yun brought their 13-month-old daughter Vera to Redeemer Presbyterian Church on a recent Sunday for the child’s Christian rite of baptism. It was in some ways a very private and personal act, but the pastor, the Rev. Leo Schuster, used the occasion to teach a much broader public lesson.

Standing before a congregation of 2,000 people, most of them young like the Yuns, Schuster noted that the lesson was somewhat out of season but added that it is one that we need reminders of all year long.

“It’s strange to talk about this in February,” he explained. “We’re used to hearing this story around Christmas, but we’re starting this morning with his birth.  It’s this idea of the incarnate word. When Jesus took on human flesh and came down here it’s like he sent his final and best word.”

With that, Schuster took Vera into his arms, cradling her as she squawked and cooed. He blessed the child and asked for her parent’s acceptance of the holy act. Then he turned to the congregation and asked them, “And now do you, the congregation, undertake the responsibility in assisting their Christian daughter?”

“Amen,” the crowd responded.

Schuster dipped his hand into the basin and drew a cross on Vera’s forehead. He blessed her in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. He baptized her, demonstrating the divinity God bestowed on humans through the incarnation of Christ.

Turning to the congregation, Schuster explained that the rite established the core principle of Christian thought—God became a human so that humans could one day be with God.

“It’s appropriate when we talk about the way God entered the world the way he did,” said Schuster, “that we would welcome into the church a new child.”

“This is the beginning of Vera’s spiritual journey,” Schuster said.

He handed the squirming child, oblivious to the great gift she had just received, back to two proud parents, who were now beaming.

Then Schuster called Vera’s new church family to prayer:

“Father, we thank you for your gift of children. We give thanks that you came to us as a child to identify yourself with us. And now Vera is identified with you.”

Photo courtesy of The AP.

The Rev. Leo Schuster stood before the crowd in Redeemer Presbyterian Church and called the congregation to worship with a psalm.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation,” he called out quoting Psalm 27 to the well-lit Hunter College Auditorium on 69^th St.. “Whom shall I fear?”

Except for  an altar rolled out to the middle of the stage and a crimson banner draped over the lectern’s purple Hunter logo, nothing about the part-time sanctuary even echoed what most Christians would think of as a  traditional service.

There were no candles, which are a fire hazard in an auditorium. There were no stained glass windows, no pews and no hymnals. The electric organ and string quartet on stage had given an impression of performance and not accompaniment as crowds of people shuffled into the auditorium during the prelude, a Brahms arrangement of a German hymn.

What made Redeemer an impressive church was not its sanctuary. Rather, it was the 2,000 people trying to find a seat inside the hall. Getting 2,000 people who come in from the Manhattan streets into the mood for prayer involves something of a ritual in itself.

One person was Allison Wong who in her mid-thirties was one of oldest people sitting in her section. who arrived five minutes before the service but had to settle for a seat near the back corner of the congregation.

“I feel like I’m hiding,” she said. “Usually I sit in the middle with my friends but today it’s just me in the corner.”

The music had stopped and Schuster had uttered the first official words of the service. By then approximately 1,500 people had found a seat and answered back over the din of late-comers  filling the balcony and what few seats were left in the auditorium behind Wong.

Redeemer is a megachurch, an increasingly popular type of congregation that trades small, traditional ceremonies for massive worship services.

Most of the congregates were younger than Wong. All but a mere dozen had  thick, full heads of hair. The congregation was  a sea of young people in casual hooded sweatshirts or flannel shirts with the occasional gray-haired flotsam wearing blazers or printed dresses.

“I know some people here,” said Wong. “Sometimes we come together, as a group. But it’s hard to coordinate all the time.”

A few seats were left unfilled even as Schuster finished the call to worship and bowed his head for the Lord’s Prayer.

The auditorium, now a place of worship, roared with the unison invocation. But the sounds of the last seats filling and the ushers closing the back doors to the auditorium tamed even the imagery of “the power, and the glory forever and ever. Amen.”

The beginning of a church service involving 2,000 people might seem chaotic to most people. But Wong said the church, which she’s attended for seven years now, is her time to take a moment to organize her thoughts.

“I have to be very organized all the time,” said Wong, who is a mid-level manager at an accounting firm. “And so I come here and I just take a minute because it’s hard the rest of the time.”

Wong’s moment came seconds later when Schuster encouraged the 2000 shuffling, coughing, murmuring worshipers, to pause in silence.

Mark Costales, a friend of Wong’s who had volunteered as an usher for the day, said it’s important for him to overcome the distraction of the crowd in order for him to be alone with God.

“It’s like, I should be focused, why am I not focused on God?” He said after the service. “At this point, it’s something I just take as a given.”

Schuster said it’s important for Christians to take a break to focus on themselves and God. He said it’s even more important in such a large congregation with many distractions.

“You’d think it would be hard to find your own personal moment here,” he said. “But I think there’s also an element of hiding, just like in the city. There’s so many people around everyone tends to cling to their inner self when the room gets quiet.”

The moment officially lasted a little more than 40 seconds. The first 20 were a decrescendo of a musical “humminahumminahum,” the official sound of a hush falling over a crowd.

The din died out and the only sounds left were a few coughs and a handful of rustling papers. But the crowd seemed to try harder as the moment continued and at 30 seconds it finally reached its zenith—complete silence.

Wong stood with her head bowed and her eyes squeezed shut. Her hands rested on her thighs clutching her bulletin with both hands and turning the paper out slightly to reduce the inherent risk of a rustle.

For the next five seconds Wong and Costales stood in a room full of 2,000 alone with a personal God, offering silent praise. Wong organized. Costales focused.

But after 35 seconds the room began to feel uneasy. Someone cleared their throat and a few shuffles cracked the silence before Schuster raised his head and hands and closed the prayer on behalf of the group.

“Lord, you are our light and our salvation. With you we shall not fear.”

Wong and 2,000 people raised their heads and opened their eyes to the well-lit auditorium, squinting a little.