Lost and Found in the Vatican
There are moments in life when one can find themselves at any given point in time. It may be unexpected, as if the universe is saying that something needs to be changed. You might not even realize that you were lost to begin with.
As for being physically lost, it’s not easy to do so when exploring the Vatican Museum. There is only one major way in and out with signs pointing in the directions of where to go. Also, people are constantly flowing through the exhibits, so if you do get lost, follow the crowd.
However, it was actually quite easy for me to get lost inside the museum, but particularly in a spiritual sense.
As a person who grew up as a practicing Catholic, it meant so much for me to be able to visit Vatican City, go to the museum and Sistine Chapel, roam around St. Peter’s Square and attend Mass at the Basilica. As someone who has been lost in her faith for a few years, I didn’t think I would become emotionally affected by accomplishing my goal to be here. I did not feel worthy of even passing through the gates into Vatican City.
Somehow before I even made it through the first exhibit, I lost the seven people I traveled to Rome with. We managed to go our separate ways without establishing a meeting time or place when we were done.
A tinge of panic rushed through me.
Instead of allowing the sense of panic to take over, I decided to completely immerse myself in the museum and not worry about where everyone else was or how we would meet back together. The audio aid that I chose to rent was all that I needed in that time and space, and being on my own allowed me to listen intently to the history behind the artifacts the museum had to offer.
I continued through the Egyptian exhibit and wondered why a place such as the Vatican would depict the other gods people once believed in. Immediately the story of Moses came to mind: there was a time when people had to be introduced to the idea of one true God and Moses was the guy to do just that. This time period played a key role in the history depicted in the Bible.
What caught my eye next was the bust of the Greek goddess Athena in the statue room. For an artifact that is thousands of years old, her eyes are still beautifully in tact. No other statue held the same quality.
There seemed to be much sorrow in her eyes. In my mind, the artist perfectly manufactured a woman who was wise had been through many battles. The representation of her through the statue was made perfect for the fierce and brave goddess of courage and wisdom.
Various artists had their depiction of Jesus among his disciples and different stages of his life showcased throughout the museum. I noticed that people did not take their time to stand in front of one piece of art for more than a minute, maybe even less. They just glanced, maybe took a photo and moved to the next thing.
Everything else in the museum in that moment became a blur. From the exhibit with images woven onto quilt-like drapes to the room of maps, I was in awe with all that my mind could take in.
The moment I did find my friend Gustavo, I was glad to share my thoughts with someone else. We talked about how the experience made us feel, but we both could not fathom how old everything was, as silly as that sounds.
Together we progressed to the narrow staircase that led us to the Sistine Chapel. The walk was the slowest either of us had moved through the museum, and we were stuck in the hallway while the line inched forward.
Signs were posted on the walls depicting the rules: no photography, keep quiet and dress appropriately. Most guests started to adjust themselves appropriately — men put away their large cameras, women put on their jackets and normal conversations turned into whispers.
Finally, I could see the merge of two lines moving into a small doorway. We arrived at the entrance to the Chapel. Guards announced the rules, loudly and in English. If women did not have their sleeves covered, they were given shawls. If cameras looked like they were in a position to snap a quick photo, they were asked to be put away. Ironically enough, people were yelled at to be quiet, and it was a tad distracting.
Within a few seconds of stepping into the Sistine Chapel, I blocked out every bit of noise that came from the outside world. I was in my own mind again, and drowned in my thoughts of how beautiful this sacred place was. No photo that I have seen had ever been able to actually depict the beauty of it.
The ceiling told the story The Creation of Adam and of man’s salvation. In the moment I thought of my own life and what it meant to truly need that saving grace. I was so far away from God, yet in the Chapel, I felt so close for the first time in a few years.
I was so far into my thoughts that I did not realize that I had, yet again, lost my friend. This time, I felt no worry pass through me. I took in as much as I could, and walked away satisfied to the core — a way I had not felt for quite some time.
Walking away from the Sistine Chapel, I felt at peace. The rest of the museum was again a blur, and although I was not able to find my friends, I felt less worried about what was to come. I simply asked St. Anthony, the saint of lost things, to help me pray to God that I’d find my friends.
One by one I ran into them until our numbers grew to all eight of us being reunited outside on the steps of the exit. It didn’t take more than a half an hour, and we were all excited to share our stories with each other.
Getting lost in the Vatican Museum was something that my soul needed. I would not have been able to have the same spiritual experience if I was distracted by constant noise of the secular world. I still may not be that same hard-core practicing Catholic that I once was, but my appreciation and respect for the faith has been rekindled.
