The story of an anonymous gay schoolteacher in Rome, who navigates the complexities of his sexual preferences with his religious beliefs. The teacher, who is 28 years old, came to terms with his sexuality only last year, when he fell in love with a male colleague. Though the feelings weren’t mutual, the experience helped him discover his sexuality. It was a discovery that would change his life completely. Homosexual unions aren’t welcomed by the Church, state or society in Italy, making the teacher’s dream of marrying the man of his dreams a near impossibility.  A devout Catholic, he prays for things to change, and has found support in local parishes — but not from the Vatican.  He is part of a network of Christian gay men in the city called Nuovo Proposta that meets each fortnight, often at a Protestant church. It’s the one place where the teacher can be himself. This video was filmed in a way that his identity would be protected at all times, as he stands to lose his job as a Catholic school teacher if his sexual preference is discovered.

The following story was carried on the cover of the Travel section of Mail Today‘s Sunday paper. Mail Today is Delhi’s third-largest paper and fastest growing daily, which recently launched an edition in London. (Inside section here) 

Padre Pio is virtually a living presence in Angelina Jadanza and Cardone Anjelo’s San Giovanni apartment. | Photo by Neha Tara Mehta.

ANGELINA JADANZA’s third-floor apartment on Via S. Chiara, San Giovanni Rotondo, a charming drive away in her green Fiat from the church of Padre Pio — an anonymous friar who shot to cult status as the “living image of Christ” — resembles a shrine. Porcelain images of Jesus, Virgin Mary and Fatima embellish every nook and cranny of her house, which has a luminous quality to it in the warm spring light.

Padre Pio, who passed away nearly half a century ago, is a virtual living presence in the apartment Jadanza, 64, shares with her husband and twin sister, a nun. He is there is watercolor on the walls, in brass on the bookshelves and in carefully-preserved blood-stained gloves and clipped finger nails in the drawers.

Padre Pio is a cottage industry in San Giovanni Rotondo, selling everything from cigarette lighters to keychains and hotel rooms. | Photo by Neha Tara Mehta.

Padre Pio’s spiritual ascendance began in 1918, when as a Capuchin monk in the sleepy, remote town of San Giovanni Rotondo in Southern Italy, he reluctantly reported five wounds on his body — just when Italy was counting its dead in the World War I, and San Giovanni was fighting a Spanish flu epidemic. In the years to come, Padre Pio would be catapulted into the limelight – both as a miracle healer and as a fraudster with fake stigmata. The Vatican settled the matter by canonizing him in 2002.

The friar’s five wounds changed the fate of San Giovanni Rotondo forever. The obscure town that few had heard of now draws over 4 million pilgrims every year. A gigantic and grandiose church designed by Renzo Piano, on Time magazine’s 2006 list of the most influential people in the world, stands testament to the large crowds – and wealth that Padre Pio has created for San Giovanni Rotondo.

Padre Pio is a cottage industry here. You are as likely to run into the saint’s devotees here as his life-size statues. He is streaming out of a 24-hour cable TV station that is watched by viewers across four continents. He is there in the dozens of souvenir shops that line the sloping streets — on key chains, photo frames, necklaces, paintings – always with that piercing gaze. He even lights your cigarettes here, quite literally, with Padre Pio lighters being quite the rage.

The saint that Jadanza, 66, lovingly nurtures in her home, is also reportedly present in less likely quarters – the home of scandal magnet Silvio Berlusconi. But for Jadanza, Padre Pio goes beyond the euros he gets into San Giovanni Rotondo and his celebrity stature. She met him just six months before he passed away in 1968 as a 20-year-old weary from a long journey from her home town, Pietrelcina, 92 km away, also the birth place of Padre Pio.

In San Giovanni Rotondo, you are as likely to run into life-size statues of Padre Pio as his pilgrims. | Photo by Neha Tara Mehta.

“As soon as I met him, he said, ‘It was such a long journey,’” remembers Jadanza. “He knew without us telling him what we had been through,” she adds, bringing out the family’s most carefully preserved possession: the saint’s trademark half-gloves stained with blood and pieces of scabs in a tightly sealed bag.

Jadanza never returned home – something which the saint had predicted, she says. With no medical training, she was taken on as a nurse in Casa Sollievo della Soffrenza, a hospital established by the saint. In founding the hospital, Italian historian Sergio Luzzatto writes, Padre Pio had headed “not from science towards miracles but from miracles toward science”. The hospital was to shape Jadanza’s professional and personal life – she met her husband Cardone Anjelo, who worked in the research department of the hospital, while at work.

The interiors of the church dedicated to Padre Pio by Renzo Piano. The walls of the church are lined with pictures of Padre Pio, Jesus and Saint Francis -- all of whom received the stigmata. | Photo by Neha Tara Mehta.

“I am so happy that I found a religious husband,” she says, looking at Anjelo, who sits perfectly framed against a Padre Pio portrait.

Jadanza’s last meeting with the saint was just four just days before he died. “He told me I had to continue to carry the cross and see Jesus in every patient.”

She adhered – delivering 30 children in the maternity ward, but never having one of her own. “These are my 30 children,” says Jadanza, now retired, pointing towards a large picture frame which stands out on walls covered with Padre Pio paraphernalia.

She brings out a platter overflowing with freshly baked cookies and tiny cups of afternoon espresso to go with the stories about her life lived in faith. Both she and Anjelo insist that we take the cookies with a light sugary glaze on top.

As we comment on how delicious the cookies were, Anjelo smiles, saying, “She had left them in the oven a little longer than she normally does.”

Pope Benedict XVI at this week's papal audience. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

The drumbeats at St. Peter’s Square could have been straight out of a football game. They added to our sense of anticipation: we had been waiting for over half an hour to see Pope Benedict XVI from up close at his weekly papal audience. This was the second time we were trying to catch a glimpse of the leader of the Catholic Church. The last time we tried doing so was on Sunday, when he appeared as a speck in the balcony at the Angelus prayer. It took powerful zoom lenses loaned to us by the generous equipment room staff to actually photograph  him. Unfortunately, many of us were stopped from filming him by the Vatican security…

We weren’t disappointed the second time round. As school children chanted “BENEDICTO!” in unison, the Pope came within a few feet of us. Apertures and shutter speeds were quickly adjusted, and we finally caught the Pope, a frail but imposing figure, being driven through the crowds wearing a benign smile. A greater surprise awaited us: Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism was given a special mention by Pope Benedict XVI himself in the list of institutions present at St. Peter’s Square.

The Pope’s address, which was said primarily in Italian, wasn’t easy for most of us to follow. Brandon Gates, a practicing Catholic said, “I felt honored to be in his presence as he is a great world figure, but I didn’t understand what he said.”

The afternoon took us to the Islamic Community Center of Rome, informally referred to as the Mosque of Rome, a majestic structure that synthesizes Islamic and Occidental styles. Though Islam is the second largest religion in Italy, it is yet to be recognized by the state. What struck Hoda Emam after a tour of the mosque was the fact that it was making an effort to promote inter-faith dialogue. “As we were entering, I saw a nun walking out of the mosque,” said Hoda Emam.

Ines Novacic ties a scarf around her head, in preparation to enter the Islamic Center of Rome. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

Interfaith dialogue turned out to be the flavor of the day and night. After our visit to the Mosque, we headed to the Istituto Tevere, a center dedicated to promoting inter-religious and inter-cultural dialogue in Rome. Mustafa Cenap Aydin, one of our guides on the Mosque tour, introduced us to the center he co-founded in 2007, as well as to two muslim scholars from Turkey, studying theology in Rome.

Later, the Religio group attended mass at the Lay Center at Foyer Unitas. An intimate evening service, consisting mainly of hymns and silent prayer was followed by dinner at the Lay Center. The class mingled with international lay students currently residing at the Center. The students’ origins varied from Bosnia to Indonesia to the Ivory Coast, and were all studying at the Pontifical Universities of Rome. We were all particularly excited to have Fr. Felix speak about Catholic-Muslim dialogue, as both our class and the lay students had been engaged in interreligious discourse throughout dinner.

We ended our rather exhaustive day with a group meeting with Marco Politi, an experienced religion writer from La Repubblica. Despite the exhaustion, most of the group decided to follow Politi’s advice and wander the streets of Rome as a final farewell to the city.

Wishes were made at the Trevi Fountain, but plans for an Anita Eckberg-La Dolce Vita reenactment were abandoned in the face of security cameras, replaced with more convivial vagabonding.

Arrivederci Roma!

Prayer and bathrooms are often not referred to in the same breath. But when Shayla Osborn mentioned the words in quick succession during a testimonial in the chapel of the Manhattan New York Mormon Temple at 125 Columbus Avenue, the Young Single Adult congregation broke into soft laughter.

“It is important for me to pray aloud,” said Osborn, a musical theater actress who came to the church turned out in an impeccable tan jacket and a black dress and perfectly coiffured hair. “I share my house with three other girls who are all non-LDS girls, and the only place I can pray alone is on the throne in the bathroom,” continued Osborn.

Osborn’s testimonial lightened up the chapel. The room was thick with cathartic energy that flowed during the testimonials of members, who were also observing a day of fast.

Latter-Day Saints fast the first Sunday of each month, skipping two consecutive meals and water. Members donate the money that would have been spent on meals to the Church. On the day of the fast, only the holy bread and water of the sacrament can be consumed. A testimonial – done on the day of fasting — is a “spiritual witness given to an individual by the Holy Ghost.”

It is testimonials like Osborn’s that help other members develop their spiritual life, according to those inducted into the priesthood of the Latter-Day Saints. “Sharing the gospel is emphasized a lot among Mormons. The more you share your beliefs about the Church, the more it helps you and the others,” said Mitch Michell, a young missionary from Idaho known as ‘Elder’ Michell, currently assigned to the Columbus Avenue church.

Manhattan New York Temple. | Photo courtesy of The AP.

The bishop — Paul D. McKinnon — who heads human resources for Citigroup – agrees. “Testimonials are a chance for everyone to express how they feel about the gospel. It is always an uplifting experience,” said McKinnon.

Osborn had read the Book of Mormon at her home on 52^nd Street and 9^th Avenue before she came into the church for the 1 p.m. service for singles between 18 and 30. She hadn’t planned to bear her testimonial – but was inspired to do so while at Church. “It is like a burning in your heart that you have to share. You can’t sit there anymore – you have to get up and share it,” said Osborn.

Though she doesn’t have an ounce of extra fat, Osborn says she loves food, which can make fasting hard for her. But fasting, she says, always helps her feel the spirit stronger. The strength of her conviction in the spirit came through in her spontaneous testimonial, when she addressed the congregation: “Since January 1, I have been spending time in prayer everyday. I can see how my testimony has grown dramatically since then…. I am so grateful to Jesus Christ for atoning for our sins. I am grateful that I get to see all of you here every week, even though everyone has busy lives. I love you all.”

Osborn’s next testimonial just might be in front of her three “non-LDS” roommates. “They respect my religion, and are planning to visit the church soon.” The visit should help explain Osborn’s bathroom routine better to them.

The Manhattan New York Temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at 125 Columbus Avenue. | Photo courtesy of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

The teacher stood towering over the podium. Like many of the women in the classroom – all members of the Relief Society – Rachel Hope, the teacher, was impeccably turned out in a formal dress, business jacket, and vertiginous pumps.

Hope’s students were part of the Young Single Adults Ward of the Manhattan New York Mormon Temple at 125 Columbus Avenue. Like all Mormon women above 18, they were members of the Relief Society.

Hope would soon put forth a question that would lead many into a cathartic space.

“Think of someone who you know for a fact loves you. How do you know these people love you?” asked Hope.

Hands went up across the room, first tentatively, and then with greater resolve.

“My mother has seen the absolute worst in me, and is still there for me…She really does loves me,” said one of the young women.

“Unconditional love,” Hope noted, nodding.

“My father used to do Daddy-daughter dates when I was growing up,” said Karen Zelnick, the president of the Relief Society.

“My father travels to New Jersey on work from California, and comes to visit me in New York looking to do fix-it things in my apartment,” said Hope, offering a personal anecdote.

Hope soon shepherded the class to the point she was making: “Show people you love them versus telling them you love them.” Quoting from the New Testament, she said, “If ye love me, feed my sheep. [John 21:16].”

“In the last one week,” she continued, “think of how you went out of your way to help anyone.”

She then turned the conversation to the obligation of the women to love others. “I believe we need to help others feel the Heavenly Father’s love for them. We are his tools. We need to seek opportunities to be his messengers.”

Hope ended her talk by throwing out a challenge to the class. “Go out of your way to make someone a priority this week. Call your grandma and tell her you love her.”

After Hope’s address, it was time to close the meeting with hymns and a prayer.

As the voices in the room converged to sing Hymn 142, Sweet Hour of Prayer – one of the favorite hymns in the room because it is easy to follow along – Shayla Osborn, a Relief Society member who had sniffled the most during Hope’s talk, made her plans for the day.

“Like I feel after every Sunday Relief society meeting, I feel uplifted. I want to go out and do some good stuff,” she said, gathering her coat as she prepared to leave. “So I will call my grandmother in Utah today. It’s been a month since I spoke to her.”