Our journey to Rome was more than a trip, it was a pilgrimage. The distinction between trip and pilgrimage was key to how we prepared for our journey to the Eternal City. Yes, preparation still meant checking off packing lists and triple checking we had our passports. But moreover, we learned that a pilgrimage requires a level of spiritual preparation that opens our hearts to receive the graces of the journey. 

Each member of our group spiritually prepared in a unique way. One member made a frequent effort to visit her home parish's adoration chapel, another member offered his voice by cantoring at the Fordham University Church, and a final member taught our group how to altar serve for our final Mass before being sent off to Rome.

Through these small and large, visible and invisible, acts of spiritual preparation, our group arrived in Rome with open hearts, open eyes, and open minds to receive the beauty of the universal Church in the Jubilee year.

We got to witness beautiful things that human hands created. Wherever you are standing when in Rome, a church is only a stone’s throw away. They have beautiful stained glass, paintings, sculptures, and it is incredible to know that all of these works of art were created meticulously in order to bring the utmost glory to God. The Vatican has some of the most amazing artwork I have ever seen, but what some may not realize is that every church, chapel, or basilica has beauty in it in different ways. 

We got to visit a small chapel near the Church of St. Ignatius. That chapel used to be his room. I found beauty in knowing that he learned and reflected in that room. In that room he became the man that started the Jesuit order. St. Paul’s outside the Walls, one of the four major papal basilicas, has beautiful iconography that reminds you of all of the great figures that came before us. 

There is beauty in these things because they help us better understand and therefore grow closer to God. Through shared prayer and beautiful and stimulating architecture and artwork, we find ourselves understanding that glorifying God comes in many different ways. The careful consideration put into creating the Vatican and 900 churches with buildings that tower over you and intricate altars where the Eucharist is celebrated, is a testament to how humanity wants to connect to the divine.

Tor Vergata, our pilgrimage destination, bustled all day and all night with the sound of a million Catholics. A million Catholics singing, dancing, and chanting with the energy of youth and a vibrancy of faith. Even as we tried desperately to sleep, we could hear the sound of drums and our Brazilian brothers and sisters worshipping and playing music. 

But for me, it all culminated when we kneeled and prayed in Eucharistic adoration with our Pope. That night was filled with the most beautiful music, but what was more powerful was the silence in between. A field of a million Catholics, somehow impossibly still, with barely any sound of talking and no drumming. It was silent because of our call to pray and be present with Jesus in the sacrament. We were led by the Pope in adoration, and we were led by him the next morning in Mass. The same feeling moved me during the Gospel. 

The Church is global, and it is all of us. We are united in prayer, whether it be in dancing, chanting, adoration, or the Mass. For me, this is not only a sense of unity but the beauty of diversity in our Church. The fact that all of us young people came together to pray with each other and our spiritual father, it sprouts hope in the vitality of our youth to go out and set the world on fire.

At the Jubilee of Youth, I met people whose lives, cultures, and expressions of the Catholic faith were completely different from my own — some found their deepest joy in quiet contemplation, others in vibrant song, others in acts of service. What struck me was not how different we were, but how the desire to be together transformed those differences into something worth celebrating. 

In this way, Fordham can become a place where unity isn’t uniformity, but where humility guides the way we listen, speak, and serve. It can be a community where we approach one another not with the goal of winning an argument or proving ourselves right, but with the desire to understand and be transformed by the perspectives and experiences of others. In practicing this humility, we create an environment where every voice is valued, every story has room to be heard, and our shared life is enriched by the depth and diversity of the people within it.