ASSISI MEMORIES
REMEMBERING POPE BENEDICT:

A Life-Changing Encounter with Benedict XVI

Even before Pope Benedict XVI removed the "Ring of Peter" and retired as supreme pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church, commentators began debating his legacy. Whether it was his handling of the sexual abuse crisis, his reforms of the liturgy, or his writings, Pope Benedict's tenure has caused all believers to reflect upon these past eight years and to consider where the Church has been and where it might go next. Ultimately, Benedict XVI now belongs to the cloister and to the history books. But my understanding of this pope and his legacy will always be rooted in a chance personal encounter on the other side of the world. In short, Benedict XVI changed my life. And that legacy is good enough for me.

In June 2007, my best friend and I traveled for the first time to Rome and Assisi. I expected great things from Rome, but was sorely disappointed. While others see an eternal city, steeped in ancient and Christian history, I see only the accumulated grime of three thousand years of human history. While others find the rock upon which their faith rests, I found only the coldness of an old and seemingly immovable institution. To be painfully honest, I did not like Rome.

So it was with great relief that we arrived by train in Assisi. While my friend waited in line for tickets to a shuttle that would take us from the station to the medieval city built into the medieval mountainside city, I waited at the curb and stared in wonder at the hometown of Saints Francis and Clare. For the first, but not for the last time, I watched as afternoon sunshine transformed the grey stone of Assisi's buildings and walls into a luminous pink. It seemed to set the hillside ablaze with an almost glorious glow. When my friend emerged from the station with our tickets, I announced simply: "I'm not leaving. I'm never leaving." And in a very real way, although I live and work in America, my heart and soul live in Assisi. This conversion of heart and spirit can be credited mostly to spiritual discoveries at the little Church of San Damiano, the Carceri, the Porziuncola, and great basilicas of Saint Francis and Saint Clare. But it was my personal encounter with Pope Benedict that sealed my fate as a "Franciscan in spirit."

After just a few hours in Assisi, we learned that the Holy Father was coming there to celebrate the 800th anniversary of the conversion of Saint Francis. Because my friend is a priest, we were lucky enough to obtain tickets to see the pope before he entered the Basilica of San Rufino, the ancient Romanesque church where both Francis and Clare were baptized. There would be no audience with the pope, no Mass, and no address. It was simply a chance to stand in the plaza and watch as the pope processed into the basilica.

The wait was long and warm. The Umbrian sun was hot and we baked beneath it for three hours. But we enjoyed watching a team of volunteers craft a carpet of dried flowers upon which the Holy Father would walk on his way across the plaza. And we were fortunate to find a place at the front of the rope line. We would be just a single step, an arm's length away from the pope! My friend told me to stand firm: "Hold your ground or those old women will push you back!"

After long hours under the blazing sun, the basilca's bells began to ring. Indeed, bells throughout Assisi began to ring. An amazing energy seemed to flow through the crowd. And suddenly, with warning, the popemobile appeared from behind the basilica. The crowd cheered and began to rhythmically chant the pope's name. "Ben-e-det-to! Ben-e-det-to!" Again, that pulse of energy seemed to enliven and somehow connect each and every person in the crowd. Even before emerging slowly from the popemobile, the Holy Father seemed to unify this diverse company of local people and pilgrims from around the world. You could sense it. You could feel it in your heart. You could feel it in your bones. It remains almost indescribable. And it remains as real to me as the reality of time, the rising of the sun, and blueness of the sky. Peter had arrived. And he was walking slowly toward us!

My friend was right. The old ladies behind and beside me wanted my place at the front of the rope line. It still boggles the mind how these seemingly frail women maneuvered, pushed, and shoved their way closer to the pope. But I am a tall man with big feet. So, I planted myself and would not be moved! Amidst the bells and cheers, the Holy Father made his way slowly along the carpet of dried flowers. He clearly did not want to walk on it, perhaps fearful that he and his entourage would damage the intricate designs and hard work of so many volunteers. But his guards steered him down the center of the path. But the path was narrow. Many people on both sides reached out toward the pope, calling for him, hoping that he might stop to bless them. His guards came between the pope and anyone who came to close; they pushed away many hands before they landed on the pope.

An elderly woman standing beside me wore a conservative dress, a light jacket zipped to the neck (in this heat?!) and very sensible shoes. She was my strongest competition at the front of the rope line. As the Holy Father approached, I could hear her and many others calling out to him. Many called him "the Little Holy One" in lyrical Italian. Suddenly, this woman bent over the rope line and reached for the pope, not planning to hurt him, but just to touch him. One of the guards pushed her hand back. And as the guard's hand and the woman's hand separated, in an instant that still seems like an eternity, I reached out and touched the pope's hand -- my hand running across the top of his hand, my hand touching his ring. I touched the Ring of Peter!

Time seemed to stop. I could hear the bells. I could hear the crowd. I could see my friend taking photos. I could see the basilica, the blue sky, and the Little Holy One with the gold ring. But in this split second, perhaps not even a second, I experienced a communion with the Holy Father that seemed to last for a very long time. I felt both drained and energized in an instant. I felt two thousand years of faith and history and tradition course through my body and soul. I felt connected to those who believed before me, to those around me, and to those who will follow me. And I felt connected, more like bonded, to the Holy Father in a way that I still find almost impossible to explain. I felt as if through that one momentary, simple touch, he knew me and loved me. I realized that I was weeping. Tears flowed freely. I put my hands over my face, bent over, and wept openly.

My friend and his camera followed Pope Benedict until he disappeared into the basilica for a prayer service with the local Franciscan community. He turned back, saw me, though the old lady had hit me with handbag and asked desperately, "Are you okay?" Through tears of happy, knowing, and mystery, I could only croak in reply, "I touched the pope! I touched the pope!"

After nearly six years and fifteen trips back to Assisi, I still stop at the Basilica of San Rufino. I pray. I light a candle. I stand in the plaza. And I remember the day when Pope Benedict XVI changed my life through his presence and through the simple touch of that gold ring: an inherited symbol of the faith passed along through long centuries, so that it might be there for me, a sinner, on a summer's day, on the other side of the world. Saint Francis, pray for us! Saint Clare, pray for us! All saints of Assisi, pray for us! Our Lady of the Angels, pray for us! May the Lord give you peace!

Our Prayers

For our families & friends, we pray: Hail Mary...

For our parish communities, we pray: Hail Mary...

For our departed brothers & sisters, we pray: Hail Mary...

For our Pope-Emeritus, Benedict XVI, we pray: Hail Mary...

For the Cardinals who gather in conclave, we pray: Hail Mary...

For the Catholic Church throughout the world, we pray: Hail Mary...

Our Father...

Most High and Glorious God,
enlighten the darkness of my heart.
Give me right faith, certain hope, and perfect charity.
O Lord, give me insight and wisdom,
so that I might always discern your holy and true will.
Amen.

Saint Francis, pray for us!

Saint Clare, pray for us!

All Saints of Assisi, pray for us!

Our Lady of the Angels, pray for us!