St. Peter’s… words fail me.
I first visited the St. Peter’s in 1989. A classmate from seminary arranged a room for me on the south side of the Vatican (I still owe him $20). I arrived after having spent most of a week in Florence violently ill (a tale over which we shall draw the veil of charity) and having endured a Roman cab ride from Termini train station. But perhaps I digress…
I had dreamt of seeing this great church since I first saw photos of it in 1975. That first day in Rome in 1989, upon setting foot into Bernini’s immense piazza, was like a dream. I was speechless with emotion. In those days there were no barricades, no stages, no seating, no guarded metal detectors. The Piazza was wide open, as was the basilica. I couldn’t get enough of the place.
The last evening I was in Rome before heading back to Germany I went to Mass at the Altar of St. Peter’s Chair. There were maybe a hundred or so people in attendance, and after Mass I wandered around the basilica, now nearly empty, and just allowed the evening quiet of the place seep into my soul. It was a profoundly spiritual experience, deeply emotional having to leave, and a memory I have always treasured.
Rome in 2025 is a very different place.
But the basilica still has its presence, power and spirit. Like the Church herself, the basilica weathers the centuries, resolute, inviting, remembering, enduring and by its presence proclaiming Faith that promises Hope in Charity. It is, and always will be, St. Peter’s.
This time, however, I was finally able to enter the Holy Doors that I had first heard about fifty years before and had seen on my previous travels to Rome. Now, they were open (fig. 1) and, once we made it through security, we wasted no time finding our way to them through the crowds.
And the crowds were immense. A formal line was reserved for official pilgrims, but we were unable to arrange that opportunity, so we entered the main doors with everyone else. We followed the queue through the back of the church, out to the portico, and back in through the Porta Sancta. Getting a decent photo was nearly impossible due to the crowds, but ultimately the final step of our pilgrimage was complete. I touched the doors, made the sign of the cross, and made my second entrance into the church that day (fig. 2). These steps having been taken, a nearly lifelong dream had been accomplished. The rest of the day would be dedicated to exploring the basilica, revisiting familiar sites, discovering new ones, and ultimately basking in a sense of spiritual fulfillment and tranquility.
During the time we spent in Rome I returned repeatedly to St. Peter’s and the Vatican. Our next reflection will explore various aspects of the church and how they can guide us today, liturgically, spiritually, and creatively.
***These doors are those installed by Pope Pius XII in 1950. The best summary of their subject and symbolism is found at the Vatican’s website (St. Peter's - The Holy Door ). I will forego repeating the information here, but do recommend taking advantage of the information linked. ***
