In Simplicitate Cordis

Today began early, before the little town of Loretto had even stirred. The Basilica of the Holy House of Loreto opens at 6:45 a.m. , and we were among the first to arrive. The walk from our lodging was about 15 minutes—a steep hill down into the town, then a steep hill up on the way back. Inside that sacred church, in the hush of early morning, some of us  renewed our consecration to Our Lady while others made their consecration for the first time. We did it right in her own house; in  the very home where she gave her Fiat, we gave ours. Afterwards, we stopped for coffee in a little café near the square. The owner smiled proudly and told us that Pope Francis once ordered coffee there , and we saw his picture on the wall. Then it was time to drive back to Rome . Our first stop was St. John Lateran , the cathedral of Rome and the official church of the Pope , even more ancient in authority than St. Peter’s. The inscription above its doors (which are 2000 years old, the old...

The day began early, but there was already quite the morning bustle took over the streets. By the time we reached St. Peter’s Basilica , the line for entry was already quite long—no surprise in this Holy Year , when pilgrims from around the world come to cross the Holy Door and pray at the heart of the Church. As we stared at the dome of St. Peter’s, I thought of all the generations of believers who have stood right where we stood, hearts full of faith. We walked in and around a but before we were finally standing at the massive Holy Door —a tall bronze door covered with biblical scenes of mercy and redemption. It's the right most doors. Normally, these doors are sealed shut with concrete from the inside. But every 25 years , during a Jubilee or Holy Year, the Pope orders them unsealed , inviting pilgrims to pass through them as a sign of repentance and renewal.  Walking through the door is more than a tradition—it’s a prayer in motion, a physical reminder that Christ Himself is...

A few of us woke long before dawn at  5:00 a.m. , cold air sharp and quiet over Medjugorje. We bundled up, rosaries in hand, and began the climb up Cross Mountain one last time. The sky was still black, stars bright over the valley. Yesterday’s homily on gratitude had struck me deeply, and so this time, I climbed with only one purpose—to thank God. No requests, no intentions, just thanksgiving. As we made our way up the rocky path, stopping at each of the Stations of the Cross , I felt the mixture of chill and sweat! When we reached the top, the sun began to rise , washing the white cross in gold. A small group was already there, praying quietly, and one young woman was holding a r elic of St. Carlo Acutis . We venerated the relic, and I couldn’t help but think what a gift it is to live in this time—to stand on this mountain with a saint of the new millennium, a young man who loved the Eucharist so much that he called it his “highway to heaven.” I know a lot of holy young folks ...

Day six in Medjugorje began long before the sun rose. I took off around 2 a.m. and felt drawn out into the night. The streets were still and cool, the only sounds the faint rustle of olive trees and the soft hum of prayer that seems to hover over this whole town. I walked alone through the cemetery , where Fr. Slavko Barbarić rests alongside three other Franciscan brothers and many local faithful. The graves are simple, but their silence speaks powerfully. I paused at Fr. Slavko’s tomb and prayed a bit. The friars buried there gave everything for Christ and for this place; to stand among them in the dark, cassock brushing the dew-soaked grass, was humbling. Here's a picture from the night before: From there I walked to the Risen Christ statue , that striking bronze figure behind the church—Christ emerging from the cross, arms outstretched in triumph. The statue is famous for a mysterious phenomenon: drops of water seep from one of its knees, as if it weeps with both sorrow and...

Day five started early and quietly. I woke up early and prayed the Office nearby Fr. Slavko's grave. The morning air was cool, the birds just beginning their song. I keep thinking of all the prayers that have been whispered here by pilgrims and priests over the years. It was beautiful to pray the psalms with Fr. Slavko. After breakfast, we went to Mass at St. James Church , and, as always, it was overflowing—people standing in the aisles, filling every corner, a sea of pilgrims gathered around the altar of peace. The priest’s homily was remarkable, a true jewel of Mariology built around four words that sum up Mary’s entire life: Fiat , Magnificat , Conservabat , and Stabat . HERE is the homily The priest’s homily was built around four Latin words that capture the whole life of the Blessed Virgin Mary—her faith, her love, and her steadfast discipleship. Each word comes straight from Scripture and reveals a stage of her journey with God: Fiat – “Behold, I am the handmaid of the...