La Dolce Vita: Living the Faith in Italy

Taking in the majestic views of Positano, Italy on vacation with my mom this summer.

“You’re in Italy, there are more churches here than McDonald’s!” shared our tour guide Gianluca at a stop in Verona. It was Sunday, and a few of us wanted to know where we could attend mass.

He wasn’t wrong. On our way to visit the Casa di Giulietta we passed the Chiesa di San Fermo Maggiore, and after a quick photo of the famous balcony, we headed back to the church.

It was the first of many I would wander into over the next two weeks – for prayer intentions, silent meditation and the sheer awe of standing in the most beautiful repositories of history and our faith.

I had been to Italy before, but this trip was special for so many reasons, mostly because I got to experience it with my mom. I imagined this vacation would be an escape for us – a break from worries and real life that comes with dessert after every meal.

So when my mom pitched the idea of attending mass during our trip, I admit my first thought was, “What about everything else we want to do?” We would try our best but surely, God would understand our time was limited.

Still, I packed my rosary and planned to keep up with my daily Bible in a Year readings, probably a vain attempt to show God I was at least making an effort, but would definitely pick things up again when I got home. He had different plans.

I quickly felt this place and its national dedication to the faith calling. I never really noticed – or appreciated – all the nods to the Catholic church embedded throughout Italy, from the architecture and street names, to countless shrines set up to our Blessed Mother.

Beautiful shrines to Mother Mary can be found on street corners and built into grottos and along the sides of the mountains, like this one in Vernazza, Italy.

Nearly every building bears a religious symbol or dedication to a patron saint. I cast a wide net of prayers wherever I went, trying to maximize potential blessings. This was before setting foot in the Vatican for a plenary indulgence because when in Rome in 2025…

As I stared out the window on our bus rides taking in views of picturesque mountain towns centred around local cathedrals, I often asked out loud, “Should I live here?”

Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who felt at home in God’s presence. In the beach town of Paestum, the local Our Lady of Loreto Church was packed for evening rosary recitation. We were greeted by huge swaths of youth joyfully singing and dancing in the streets from around the world on pilgrimages to Rome for World Youth Day. I was moved by one young pilgrim from France who handed us blessed Miraculous Medals in front of the Spanish Steps.

When I wasn’t sure I would have time for my faith on vacation, God cleared the way to find true rest in Him. I eagerly entered every cathedral we came across, lit candles and prayed for our loved ones and struggles back home. I looked forward to those long, quiet stretches on the bus for contemplation and my daily examen.

I never imagined I would be walking through the Holy Doors at St. Peter’s Basilica during this Jubilee year but I dream of the sound of copper church bells ringing in small towns all over Italy. I wanted to bottle this peace and carry it back with me.

My mom and I in St. Peter's Square in the Vatican after walking through the Holy Doors at St. Peter's Basilica.

It’s true what they say about Italy. La dolce vita is cannoli for breakfast (and dessert), naps on the beach and the best pizza and homemade wine I’ve had in my life for dinner with live music and good conversation. It’s also wandering into some of the oldest cathedrals of our church and being in the presence of our earliest saints. It’s taking in the most beautiful and sacred artworks centred around Christianity.

It’s going on early morning walks amid endless stretches of vineyards and fig trees with my mom. It’s flying home with a renewed and emboldened faith – and a handmade statue of Mother Mary to watch over me.

 It’s two weeks of bible readings to catch up on.