Brothers in Assisi have allowed me to live in their community while I consider the priesthood. I’m currently on loan to Father Morelli as his assistant for the next few months. We met this past year while I was finishing some graduate work on an archaeological dig on the outskirts of Rome.”
“Father Morelli seems to be involved in a lot of projects around here. Are you an archaeologist also?”
“I have a PhD in history, and I’m working on my master’s in anthropology.”
At least this new assistant had the right training to help Morelli, Leo thought.
Practically everyone who had ever entered the immense Renaissance church was overcome by its unparalleled beauty, and Leo and John were both awed as they passed through the mammoth doors and headed up the aisle toward the main altar.
“What kind of history, John? I mean, what was your thesis work about?”
“Classical Rome ... the Roman Empire during the time of Christ. That’s what drew me to Italy in the first place.”
“Interesting. When did you first think of entering the religious life?”
“I’ve been thinking about it on and off since grade school. I was raised Catholic, went to Catholic schools all my life. You get pretty well indoctrinated by the time you reach high school. Two of my friends from school became priests.”
Leo looked up at the ceiling as they walked along. “I went to Catholic school too, but a lot of my friends became police officers and firefighters. I came out of a working-class neighborhood, and we had a lot of kids from my graduating class who entered those fields. It’s funny how we all gravitated to professions where we could help people.”
They continued up the center aisle of the enormous basilica that contained eleven chapels and forty-five altars and seated themselves near the baldacchino , a monumental canopy that sheltered the papal altar and the holy relics of Saint Peter. Made of dark bronze accented with gold vine leaves, it was created by Lorenzo Bernini in 1624 under the direction of Pope Urban VIII. For centuries, Christians had built their churches in the shape of a cross, and Saint Peter’s was no exception. The altar lay in the center under the colossal dome designed by Michelangelo; although sadly, he never lived to see it finished.
“I’m surprised the Jesuits didn’t grab you, John. How did you end up in Assisi?”
“Actually, I applied to Jesuit seminary shortly after I met Father Morelli. He realized I needed time to make a decision about the priesthood, so he arranged for the brothers in Assisi to accept me as a novice for a year.”
“What do you think of the monastic way of life so far?”
“It’s definitely not my calling. I have a feeling the Church is going to need men of action in the years to come, so that’s why I’ve chosen the Jesuits.”
“You have a lot to decide, John. As you probably already know, the ranks of the Jesuits have begun to dwindle over the past several years. We’re kind of like a peacetime army now. The priesthood is in trouble, and the Church is desperate for qualified candidates, especially men who are morally incorruptible in today’s climate of hostility toward our religion. A few bad ones have destroyed the work of thousands of good ones, but I’m heartened by the words of Saint Paul when he said, ‘Where sin has abounded, there grace will even more abound.’”
With the smell of incense permeating the air, an elderly bishop ascended the steps to the altar and raised his right hand in the sign of the cross. “ Te igitur, clementissime Pater ...” The High Mass spoken in Latin had begun. Leo was thinking of how much he had missed the Latin version of the Catholic Mass back in America when he glimpsed Morelli sliding across the wooden pew.
“Good morning, Leo. I see you’ve met John.”
“Yes, and I see you’ve already been at work this morning, Father.”
Morelli’s eyes widened. “How did you...?”
Leo cast his eyes down at
“Father Morelli seems to be involved in a lot of projects around here. Are you an archaeologist also?”
“I have a PhD in history, and I’m working on my master’s in anthropology.”
At least this new assistant had the right training to help Morelli, Leo thought.
Practically everyone who had ever entered the immense Renaissance church was overcome by its unparalleled beauty, and Leo and John were both awed as they passed through the mammoth doors and headed up the aisle toward the main altar.
“What kind of history, John? I mean, what was your thesis work about?”
“Classical Rome ... the Roman Empire during the time of Christ. That’s what drew me to Italy in the first place.”
“Interesting. When did you first think of entering the religious life?”
“I’ve been thinking about it on and off since grade school. I was raised Catholic, went to Catholic schools all my life. You get pretty well indoctrinated by the time you reach high school. Two of my friends from school became priests.”
Leo looked up at the ceiling as they walked along. “I went to Catholic school too, but a lot of my friends became police officers and firefighters. I came out of a working-class neighborhood, and we had a lot of kids from my graduating class who entered those fields. It’s funny how we all gravitated to professions where we could help people.”
They continued up the center aisle of the enormous basilica that contained eleven chapels and forty-five altars and seated themselves near the baldacchino , a monumental canopy that sheltered the papal altar and the holy relics of Saint Peter. Made of dark bronze accented with gold vine leaves, it was created by Lorenzo Bernini in 1624 under the direction of Pope Urban VIII. For centuries, Christians had built their churches in the shape of a cross, and Saint Peter’s was no exception. The altar lay in the center under the colossal dome designed by Michelangelo; although sadly, he never lived to see it finished.
“I’m surprised the Jesuits didn’t grab you, John. How did you end up in Assisi?”
“Actually, I applied to Jesuit seminary shortly after I met Father Morelli. He realized I needed time to make a decision about the priesthood, so he arranged for the brothers in Assisi to accept me as a novice for a year.”
“What do you think of the monastic way of life so far?”
“It’s definitely not my calling. I have a feeling the Church is going to need men of action in the years to come, so that’s why I’ve chosen the Jesuits.”
“You have a lot to decide, John. As you probably already know, the ranks of the Jesuits have begun to dwindle over the past several years. We’re kind of like a peacetime army now. The priesthood is in trouble, and the Church is desperate for qualified candidates, especially men who are morally incorruptible in today’s climate of hostility toward our religion. A few bad ones have destroyed the work of thousands of good ones, but I’m heartened by the words of Saint Paul when he said, ‘Where sin has abounded, there grace will even more abound.’”
With the smell of incense permeating the air, an elderly bishop ascended the steps to the altar and raised his right hand in the sign of the cross. “ Te igitur, clementissime Pater ...” The High Mass spoken in Latin had begun. Leo was thinking of how much he had missed the Latin version of the Catholic Mass back in America when he glimpsed Morelli sliding across the wooden pew.
“Good morning, Leo. I see you’ve met John.”
“Yes, and I see you’ve already been at work this morning, Father.”
Morelli’s eyes widened. “How did you...?”
Leo cast his eyes down at
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