Experiments in Catholicism: How not to pilgrimage

By Emily E Long

Last summer, I had just arrived in Turin, Italy, for my very first international pilgrimage. For the next 10 days, I was about to follow in the footsteps of the now Saint PierGiorgio Frassati. I had saved my pennies and prepared my body for about a year before the pilgrimage. I knew all of the stops we were planning on making and had already scoped them out on Google Maps. I had spent hours brainstorming the souvenirs I would bring back for my family and friends. I researched what flavors of gelato I absolutely had to try and practiced quite a few Italian phrases. I was ready. This was going to be the best, most life-changing pilgrimage ever!

As I boarded our tour bus to head to the first Mass at a parish PierGiorgio himself attended, I thought that I had done everything I needed to do to prepare. I quickly discovered that I had drastically overlooked one crucial part of my preparation — the spiritual part.

We pulled away from our hotel, and our tour guide came over the loudspeaker to welcome us. We’d be doing a lot more praying than I thought.

“I didn’t want this to be just another religious shopping trip,” the guide announced. As everyone nodded mindfully, I quickly closed the note on my phone labeled “Italy Presents.” Yikes. As we started our opening prayers, I felt like I was doing this whole thing wrong. I had forgotten the most important part of this trip — to connect with our Lord!       

As the group got to know each other, I kept hearing stories of the reasons people had come on the pilgrimage. From praying for healing to conversion of family members to getting answers about vocational paths, I felt that my intentions of just wanting to learn about PierGiorgio Frassati weren’t good enough. Sure, I had things to pray for, but they didn’t feel worthy of doing a pilgrimage for.

One of the common stories you hear about PierGiorgio is how much he loved Adoration. At times, the wax of the candles would drip onto his jacket.

It was in Siena, at San Domenico, where St. Catherine of Siena prayed and received a visitation from Christ, that I truly realized what a gift I had. St. Catherine is my patron saint, and I had been dreaming about visiting her home city for ages. As the group made our way into the basilica straight from the Renaissance, I was in awe of where I was. Then, the doubts started to creep in.

In my column a few weeks ago, I wrote about my experience with OCD. As a result of living with this condition, I find that I spend a lot of time thinking and living in my head, instead of the real world. Whether I’m obsessing over an innocuous interaction or my to-do list at work or organizing a gathering with friends, I find that inside my head can be the place where I feel most at home. My thoughts are where I build my little nest I call Emily-ville, a very comfortable corner of the world. I can always retreat into my head if my present isn’t that pleasant. Staying in the moment can seem, at times, as far away as Siena is from Syracuse.

As I was sitting in front of the reliquary of St. Catherine, I realized that I needed to take the highway out of my head, and live in the present. I’m in the basilica where my favorite saint is. Even better? We were about to start Mass, and I would get to be in the presence of Jesus!     

The devil wants to distract us. He wants us to live in the past, where it’s comfortable, where we know what is going on. Where we are under the illusion that we are in control. God calls us to step out of our comfortable dwelling in our heads and dwell somewhere better — in His presence.

When I stopped beating myself up about not doing a lot of spiritual preparation, I allowed the Lord to truly join me on my pilgrimage. Instead of bringing a litany of prayers to Him about things I thought needed fixing, I brought myself to Him, ready to hear what He had to say to me.

As the Mass in San Domenico started, I put away the notes I had been taking at every Mass, I stopped worrying about praying for the right things. I allowed myself to just exist in His presence.

I can’t tell you anything about what was preached or the readings, but I can tell you that it was one of the most beautiful Masses of my life. I left feeling aglow with the Holy Spirit.

For the remainder of my pilgrimage, whenever I felt like I was lacking, I’d pull myself back into His presence, instead of allowing my thoughts to spiral and trap me in my head.

Experiment of the Week: As we head into summer, many of you might be heading out on pilgrimages or just have some extra time to spend with the Lord. When you do, try your best to stay in His presence.