September 2025

September 2025


Dear Graduates of Chaminade and Kellenberg Memorial,

              Well, I’m back at my desk after a whirlwind, ten-day Jubilee of Youth pilgrimage to Italy, culminating in five days in Rome, the Eternal City.  Our band of forty students and eight faculty members experienced so many inspiring pilgrim moments.  We prayed at the shrines of St. Gianna Molla, Blessed Chiara Luce Badano, and soon-to-be canonized Blessed Carlo Acutis.  Fr. Dan celebrated Mass for us at the tomb of St. Francis; afterwards, the group enjoyed a wonderful guided tour of the Umbrian hill-town of Assisi.  We visited the Tuscan city of Arezzo, where the Academy-Award-winning movie Life is Beautiful was filmed.  In Rome, we walked through the Holy Doors of St. Paul Outside the Walls, St. Mary Major, St. John Lateran, and, of course, St. Peter’s.  During a Papal audience in St. Peter’s Square, one of our pilgrims – a rising Kellenberg senior – gave Pope Leo a Marianist Province of Merbibah wristbracelet.  Yes, you read that correctly.  As the Popemobile drove by our band of pilgrims, John Gaffney reached out and placed the bracelet in the palm of the Pope!  Needless to say, we were elated.

              Indeed, these are all memories that will last a lifetime!

              Among the many memories that I cherish, two stand out in particular.  One is the devotion of our students – their deep faith; their reverence at the holy shrines we visited; their own personal devotions, manifested in the Miraculous Medals they wore, the Rosaries they prayed, and their knowledge of the saints and of the saints’ life stories.  I witnessed many of our young pilgrims deep in prayer at the various churches and shrines we visited.  I was deeply moved by the depth of their faith.

              The second stand-out memory for me might strike you as a bit unusual, at least at first.  I witnessed it as I gazed out the window of our coach bus, as we made our way, day to day, from Milano to Torino to Perugia and Assisi and, finally, to Roma.  Each location that we passed had as its most prominent feature a church.  From tiny towns to mid-sized cities to the major metropolis of Rome, Catholic churches abounded.  In fact, Rome boasts over nine-hundred Catholic churches.  Nine hundred!  That number is breathtaking.

              Breathtaking too are all the churches in the Italian countryside.  Their Romanesque towers, Renaissance domes, and Baroque campaniles punctuate the landscape like myriad exclamation points.  Most of these churches are massive.  They are all beautifully decorated with statues and paintings and mosaics.  They stand at the center of the city, usually presiding over a large public square.  In Italy’s larger towns and cities, you might find two or three such churches and town squares, each the anchor of the surrounding neighborhood.   As I mentioned, in Rome, this church-and-piazza phenomenon is repeated over nine-hundred times.

              And I found myself asking, “How?”  How did they do it?  How did they build such enormous edifices, and oftentimes at such high altitudes, capping off the mountainous terrain as the most prominent gathering place for the people of the times?  And, for the most part, we’re not talking about the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.  No, we’re talking about the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, and, in many cases, even earlier.  Without the benefit of AI, without the benefit of calculators and computers, without the benefit of bulldozers to dig foundations and cranes to reach up to 448 feet (the height of St. Peter’s dome), how did they manage to construct such architectural marvels – and in many cases, at such dizzying heights?

              Technologically, I can’t answer that question.  Oh, I’m sure I could do some research or take the easy way out and ask ChatGPT.  But, as you might have guessed, I’m less interested in the technological dimension of this question than I am in its theological dimension.  Because by “how,” I really mean “why?”  Why did these men and women of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance overcome such daunting challenges to build such magnificent houses of worship?  What motivated them? How did they find the inspiration, the creativity, the resourcefulness, and the perseverance to accomplish such architectural feats?

              And to this question, I think I have an answer.  The answer is simple, really.  The answer is God.  It was their faith, their devotion to God, that prompted the men and women of former times to build such impressive churches: to lift those heavy blocks of granite and marble, to carve those awe-inspiring statues, and to paint those famous frescoes.  

Actually, it should come as no surprise that these incredible churches are at the center of every town and city.  Because, for the people who built them, Christ was at the center of their lives.  Just as these magnificent churches occupy a prominent place in each and every town, so too Christ, His Blessed Mother, and the saints occupied a prominent place in the hearts of the men and women who built these churches, large and small.

              What I saw in the hills and valleys of the Italian landscape prompted me to ask myself, “Is Christ at the center of my life?  Does He enjoy a place of prominence in my heart?”  If I am going to be honest, I’d have to answer – sometimes.  Sure, the schedule of our religious congregation calls us to prayer in common three times a day, including daily Mass.  On the other hand, how often am I distracted during prayer and even during Mass by all the items on my “to do” list for the day?  One of our pilgrimage Masses fell on the Feast of Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.  Now, by temperament, I am a Martha – always busy, always “anxious and upset about many things.”  Consequently, I often overlook “the one thing necessary,” the “better part that will not be taken away” from Mary – the centrality of Christ in my life.  To put Christ in the center of my life, to be really focused on Him during every waking moment, to make my prayer life fresh and vibrant and not just stale and routine – these are the challenges that the Jubilee Pilgrimage of Youth has laid upon my heart.

              Other distractions can sideline Christ as well.  Our iPhones, social media, our plans and ambitions, and so many other things can all steal the spotlight from Christ.  None of these are bad in themselves, but they all have the power to wrest our attention away from “the one thing necessary.”

              During one of his several addresses to the Jubilee pilgrims, Pope Leo emphasized that we “are in great need of finding true joy, true happiness—which we all find in Jesus Christ.”

              May Christ be at the center of all of our lives, just like those thousands of churches at the heart of every town and city that my fellow pilgrims and I visited just a few weeks ago during this deeply moving and memorable experience of our lives.


              On behalf of all my Marianist Brothers,

              Bro. Stephen