A Pentecost Postscript

As we walked about Rome we heard many different languages, not just Italian. It is obvious that Rome is a big tourist centre, and that lots of people from around the world make a pilgrimage to this place. We saw many people in religious attire, priests and nuns of all ages and races. So as we wandered about we heard and saw a living example of the diversity of people in the world. It seemed somehow appropriate on Pentecost Sunday, the day when the disciples were given the ability to speak to many people from around the known world in their own languages. There have been many occasions in the last 24 hours that I wished I had the gift to speak in other tongues, it would have come in handy while trying to explain to the taxi driver where we wanted to go, or to clarify with the gal serving us gelato what exactly we wanted. I have never been great with languages, and on a trip like this I am reminded how fortunate are those people who are able to speak more than one language.

Given that it was Pentecost I thought I would have experienced more of a spiritual sensation being in Rome, but other than the falling rose petal in the Pantheon, I didn’t really have a sense that it was a special day for the Christian faith at all. In fact it seemed like the bike race was a much bigger concern than anything else, with people lining the streets to cheer on the racers, and helicopters flying overhead filming the racers on their route.

Even when visiting the Basilica of Saint John I felt mostly amazed at the architecture, and had little sense of religious awe. In some ways it was almost embarrassing to be in such an opulent sanctuary - it seemed so contrary to what Jesus was about in his ministry. Here was a cathedral built because of a marriage between political power (Constantine) and a religion with new found wealth and influence… and often that marriage has strayed from its original roots. So while impressive, I wouldn’t say visiting such places has moved me in any spiritual way, at least not yet.

Today, while Beth was having an afternoon nap, I wandered around Milan a bit… looking for a Coke or some kind of cold drink truth be told. A block from our hotel is a nice brick cathedral so I took a peek inside. There was a sense of peace in that place, people were praying and no tourists were milling about (except for me), that was the first sense of worship I’ve encountered yet.