Fr. Matthew and St. Isidore youth traveled to Rome last summer to immerse themselves in holy places, become friends with the saints, and grow deeper in faith alongside a million young Catholics from around the world.
When I reflect on the most meaningful moments of the Jubilee of Young People, I notice that they occurred right after times of discomfort and frustration. In those moments, it was easy to lose sight of why I was there, the purpose of the pilgrimage. Yet those low points were followed by powerful encounters with Christ that reminded me of His presence, His love, and His mercy. I think that God used those struggles to prepare my heart, showing me how He can transform even the darkest of moments into something that is for good.
The three mile walk to Tor Vergata for the vigil with Pope Leo was rough. The combination of heat, crowds and noise made the trek an unpleasant experience. By the time we found a camping spot hours later, I was ready to go back to the hotel. But God had different plans. When the vigil started, I climbed onto a small shed to see above the crowds. I’ll never forget the view: more than a million Catholics, full of energy, as far as I could see. Flags from every country waved in the air. The very crowds that had frustrated me on the walk were now part of something beautiful. The change in vantage point resulted in a new perspective. Instead of seeing strangers who had made me uncomfortable, I saw brothers and sisters in Christ. I experienced a shift from feeling alone to feeling a deep sense of belonging. After feeling suffocated in the crowds earlier, seeing all these people now felt like a refreshing breath of new life.
Adoration was the highlight of the night, unlike any I had ever experienced. Even though we were so far away from the monstrance (probably at least half a mile!), it felt like I was right in front of God. The scale of the crowd gave it a power that’s hard to put into words. In that moment, it felt like I was witnessing the living image of the Body of Christ, not just in the Holy Sacrament, but also in all of us: countless individuals, yet one Church, gathered together in front of God.
Being surrounded by so many who feel a deep love for Christ helped me in that moment, to surrender all my negative thoughts and feelings to the Lord and truly listen to Him in prayer. It’s funny how quickly my heart had changed from wanting the night to be over as quickly as possible to not wanting adoration to end.
I found this theme of struggle → surrender → grace repeating itself throughout the trip: seeing Pope Leo for the first time, Bishop Barron’s talk at St. Paul Outside the Walls, climbing the Holy Stairs, the Matt Maher concert at Piazza del Popolo, visiting St. Francis’ tomb in Assisi, and praying at the Portiuncula at Santa Maria degli Angeli. Each moment began with some level of struggle. Yet again and again, God used the people, places, and experiences before me to transform my heart whenever I was willing to let go and surrender to Him.
It’s fitting that the Jubilee year coincided with one of the most turbulent and pivotal years of my life so far, with a serious car accident and close relatives diagnosed with cancer. Just as the Jubilee was about celebration, I came to the realization that these very circumstances gave me all the more reason to celebrate God’s mercy and grace.
Bishop Barron reminded us of Galatians 2:20, which deeply resonated with me: “It’s not my life, but Christ who lives in me.” These words perfectly summed up everything I had been feeling this year. We don’t live our lives solely for ourselves but rather for a greater purpose.
I wish I could say that I came out of the pilgrimage with a clear vision of exactly what God is calling me to do with my life, but that isn’t the case. Many of the questions I have remain unanswered. However, I left feeling more at peace with this uncertainty.
Perhaps I’ve been overcomplicating things. Maybe God isn’t calling me to invent a dramatic new path for myself, but to simply surrender my life more fully to Him, to let Christ truly live in me. The explicit answers of what this looks like may not be clear yet, but I’ve learned to pay attention to the small callings He places before me: the call to pray more, to go to confession, to attend adoration, to share my faith with others rather than living it in isolation. Maybe if I faithfully follow these smaller callings, the larger pieces will become clearer as time goes on. As simple as it is, maybe this lesson is why I was called to go on this pilgrimage.
This year has been disruptive. This pilgrimage was disruptive. But I think that disruption is exactly what I needed. It’s uncovered a deep desire to live God’s will and, like the saints, to experience a lasting change in my life. Not the kind of change I try to force on my own, but the deeper transformation that comes only from surrender, when I finally hand everything over to God.
It’s not my life, but Christ who lives in me.
—Jordan, recent college graduate