For eight days from June 26th through July 3rd, I had the pleasure of being on pilgrimage to Rome, Italy along with three other parish Directors of Evangelization, and five from our Archdiocese Center for New Evangelization.  This being the Jubilee Year of Hope, as well as having a new pope, made it a special trip.  A particularly special occasion was being able to celebrate Mass inside St. Peter’s Cathedral Basilica on the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul with Pope Leo XIV as celebrant.  

This was my second pilgrimage to Rome, the first being in 2019.  Of course, when you go to Rome, you have to visit the major cathedrals and basilicas in and around the Vatican.  We visited St. Peter’s, St. Mary Major, St. John Lateran, and St. Paul Outside the Walls, all marvelous examples of renaissance architecture and elaborate baroque sculpture and art.  It truly is beautiful beyond words!  However, this year, it was astoundingly beautiful because it is a jubilee year and a boat load of money was spent cleaning and polishing everything.  The skill of the artists, sculptors, and craftsmen, men like Michelangelo, Raphael, Bernini, and so many others, is purely mind blowing!

It is beautiful, no doubt, but unless you make notes in a journal, It’s almost impossible to remember where a photograph was taken.  And after three or four days of gawking at the grandeur, it all started to run together.  I began to wonder why I was there, what was God’s plan for me?  Was it just to be impressed with the beauty?  No, there had to be more.  The underlying purpose of our pilgrimage was to go deeper in our faith so that we would be inspired to encourage people in our parishes to better evangelize.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling any special inspiration.  So, each day I prayed for an answer to my question, “Why am I here?”

One morning we visited the catacombs of St. Calixtus, where, in the 2nd through 4th centuries, nearly a half million Christians were buried, a majority of whom were martyred for opting to profess rather than deny their faith.  It was their courageous faith that convinced so many Roman pagans to convert even knowing that they might be the next to be executed.  As we meandered through a small portion of the 20 kilometers of underground corridors that were lined with now vacant graves stacked eight to ten high, it was easy to imagine the persecutions they endured and all the hideous and creative ways they were tortured.

On our last day in Rome we ventured into the city center and visited several minor basilicas within a couple block radius of Piazza Navona, an oval plaza that was once a center for Roman foot and chariot races, as well as for putting Christians to death.  On the piazza sits the minor basilica of St. Agnes, a smaller church but still beautifully adorned with magnificent paintings and sculptures, but specifically of martyrs. 

The church is dedicated to St. Agnes, the 3rd century 12-year old virgin who refused to abandon her faith and succumb to the advances of prominent Roman men.  She was martyred by beheading after attempts to burn her at the stake were unsuccessful. Also honored are St. Emerenziana, Agnes’ sister who was stoned to death for opposing the pagans who were trying to prevent Agnes’ body from being buried; St. Sebastian, a converted Roman soldier who was martyred by being shot through with arrows but not killed, and then thrown into the sewers where he died; and St. Cecilia, a young girl who was discovered to be a Christian and was beheaded. 

There, before the statues and relics of St. Agnes and these other martyred saints, with tears running down my cheeks, my prayer was answered.  With unbelievable awe and respect for these martyred faithful men, women, and children, the Holy Spirit convinced me that I was there to fully comprehend what it means to not be afraid to profess one’s faith, so that I could help others to not be afraid.

There, in the moment, I was struck by the relative comparison between these martyrs who risked and sacrificed their lives, and the average Catholic in our world today.  How many Catholics refrain from saying grace before dinner at a restaurant because of what other people might think?  Too many.  How many will not say “God bless you!” to a stranger and mean it because they’re afraid of confrontation?  Again, too many.  How many are afraid of being questioned about their faith because they know they haven’t done what they should do to be properly catechized?  Way too many.  How many are willing to risk asking someone who is obviously hurting if they can pray for them?  Not too many, but too few.  I don’t mean to judge, but generally speaking, we are weak in our faith.  So many have forgotten, if they ever actually knew, what it means to be Christian.  Jesus said, 

“Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you [falsely] because of me.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” (Mt 5:10-12)

Those early Christians – St. Agnes, St. Cecilia, St. Sebastian, St. Emerenziana, and all the martyrs in the catacombs of St. Calixtus – died with hope, hope in the glory of heaven.  They understood it so well that they embraced the prospect of being persecuted and put to death by torturing far worse than a disapproving glance from the diners at the next table over.

Sadly, I get it.  Been there, done that, and got the t-shirt.  But thankfully it doesn’t fit me any more because I’ve learned it’s not hard to overcome that fear.  In fact, the mere chance that I might cause another to ask me about my faith far outweighs the risk.  So, just start.  Start small and go from there.  If someone sneers at you for thanking God for the food you are about to receive, just smile at them and thank the Lord for them, too.  Trust in the Lord to be with you, and pray that you might be the one to inspire someone else to turn to Jesus.  

Remember His words, “Do not fear!”  And resolve to ask yourself every now and then, “Am I just an average Catholic?”, for, if you are to fear anything, it is just that.

“Loving Father, thank You for the gift of faith and for the fortitude to protect and defend that gift.  Nevertheless, You and I know that I need constant strengthening.  May I receive that grace every time I receive You in the Holy Eucharist, remembering the sacrifice You made for me. I ask You Lord, and all the holy martyrs in heaven, to help me and all Your faithful to demonstrate our faith with courage and zeal.  Amen.”

“Are You an Average Catholic?”was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

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