“Every town defends its bell tower.”
It’s a saying here. Every (and I mean every) little village and big city has a central church or duomo (cathedral), and sometimes multiple other churches. The saying above comes from the pride that each little village has in itself and in the symbolic heart of the village: its church. I love the sound of the church bells ringing on the hour in their rhythmic way. I already know I will miss the music of the bells. I don’t know why the distant ringing fills me with a sense of joy from my toes to my head, but it consistently does.
When I enter a cathedral, my first instinct is to take a picture like the ignorant tourist that I am. It’s beautiful! I want to remember the architecture of these Catholic churches. When the Facciolis enter a cathedral, their first instinct is to pray. In unison they offer a prayer out loud. Always their prayers first start with “In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit” as they use their right hands to touch their forehead, heart, and shoulders: forming the cross. Their prayers are repeated, always the same, given as many voices in one. They way they pray is different from how I pray, but I see in their devotion a beautiful reverence for God and His omnipotence.
This lovely little statue touches my heart. I imagine she is having a conversation with God.
My first real life interaction with the Catholic faith was the baptism of baby Giulia, a cousin. It was an unforgettable experience! I went expecting to see a baby sprinkled with some water, but what I witnessed was so much more. I recognized familiar symbols in this rite similar to my faith, symbols deeply rooted in the Old Testament. After the priest shared some thoughts, the children gathered excitedly around the baptismal font to witness the baptism. Water was poured over Giulia’s head. The priest then took holy anointed oil and with his finger traced the oil on her forehead in the shape of a cross. Finally (and this is when my jaw dropped), they took a simple, baby-sized, white clothing that looked like a robe and placed it on Giulia. The baby girl was washed, anointed, and clothed! (See Exodus 29:4-8).
Francesco told me that this particular priest was a bit more lively than usual and took a few liberties that are atypical to traditional Catholic norms. He was fun. For example, after the baptism he raised the baby up and exclaimed, “Ecco Giulia!” (Behold Giulia!) Everyone clapped, cheered, and chuckled at the spontaneity.
There were a few other elements of the baptism that I didn’t expect. After Giulia was baptized and blessed, the priest hovered his hand above each of the proud parents as they held baby Giulia in their arms. Young boys dressed in robes also played a role in the ceremony, handing the priest the water and oil (like deacons). There was a beautiful guitar/singer musical number to “Se Tu Sapessi” by Antonio Anastasio.
Se tu sapessi
quanto ti ho aspettato,
quanto ti ho pensato,
quanto ti ho voluto
Se tu sapessi in questo deserto
chi ti è venuto incontro
Baptism in my faith is a bit different than what I witnessed. I explained that at the age of accountability, 8 years old, we are baptized by immersion. Francesco reacted, “Oh because that’s like what John the Baptist did? That makes sense.” Exactly! That’s how John baptized Jesus Christ, our Exemplar. It is beautiful to see the similarities we share and differences that define the ways we believe and live.
Today I also experienced my first mass! It started with singing, and had singing throughout woven into the program. All acapella. I was impressed by the Faccioli’s involvement in the ceremony. Francesco read some verses at the pulpit. Davide and Carlo carried baskets to collect tithing and also held a cloth for the bread. There was a good amount of congregational reciting and chanting in unison. The sounds of their voices in the acoustics of the church was beautiful. Most of the attendees were elderly, but there were a few younger families including Federico’s household (family friends of the Facciolis).
I adore entering into any church I can, and they are usually unlocked. I take a reverent moment there to ponder on my Savior and His sacrifice for me. I think of His influence across the world.
This weekend I stopped in the Duomo of Trento and sat on the benches for my daily scripture study. In that quiet place I read from the Book of Mormon about my good good Father, “I will show unto you a God of miracles.” In the next verse Moroni captured the entire Plan of Salvation in one verse: “Behold, he created Adam, and by Adam came the fall of man. And because of the fall of man came Jesus Christ, even the Father and the Son; and because of Jesus Christ came the redemption of man” (Mormon 9:11-12).
And Moroni was right. Jesus is a God of miracles and He has not ceased to be just that today. I see miracles everywhere I look. The fact that I am in Italy is an absolute miracle to me.
La Vita Italian 
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