From the Rector…
Years ago, I took a group of youth on a pilgrimage to Rome. We toured the Vatican, the Colosseum, and countless churches filled with relics, breathtaking art, and rich history. The experience was both sacred and joyful. We learned, prayed, and, of course, ate—a lot.
Although I planned the itinerary, each young person was responsible for researching one site, sharing what they learned with the group, and leading a devotion connected to its history. Every day we learned from one another, discovered fascinating stories (including the legend of a female pope who supposedly gave birth during a papal procession), and prayed together. Sharing the spiritual leadership transformed the trip from a European vacation into a true pilgrimage. When we returned home, even our priest and verger noticed something different. The youth approached worship with greater reverence and a deeper sense of faith.
Yet one of my favorite memories had very little to do with churches.
We were riding the metro to St. Paul’s Outside the Walls when it began filling with young Italians dressed in blue, many with face paint and soccer balls. They excitedly told us they were heading to the Circus Maximus to watch the World Cup final between France and Italy on giant outdoor screens. Several of our youth played soccer and quickly convinced the rest of us to change our evening plans and join what would become nearly 300,000 of our newest friends.
It was unforgettable.
The match between Italy and France ended in a 1–1 draw before Italy won in penalty kicks. The moment the final kick went in, the crowd erupted. Within seconds, strangers were embracing, singing, and celebrating together. It was chaotic, but it never felt unsafe. It felt like pure joy spilling into the streets.
Our hotel was only fifteen minutes away, yet it took more than two hours to walk back. Every fountain was filled with celebrating young people. Tiny cars overflowed with waving flags, scooters zipped through jubilant crowds, and it seemed as though every person in Rome had poured into the streets. The victory united an entire nation.
What struck me most was the diversity around us. We were surrounded by people from all over the world who shared no common language, yet for one evening we belonged to the same joyful community. Just days earlier we had witnessed police arresting immigrant street vendors. That night those same officers simply kept watch over the celebrating crowds, allowing joy to take precedence over enforcement.
Watching the United States host this year’s World Cup has reminded me of that evening in Rome. While I was disappointed to see the U.S. eliminated, I’ve been encouraged by the stories visitors have shared about their experiences here. Through their eyes, we’ve been reminded that our nation is more than its divisions. Hospitality, generosity, curiosity, and welcome are still part of who we are.
Perhaps that’s one of God’s quiet gifts: moments that remind us our deepest identity is found not in what separates us, but in the shared humanity that reflects the image of the One who celebrates us all.
Light and Life,
Candice+