Penna Dexter

In an article published in the journal First Things, Jonathan Sanford, President of the University of Dallas, described a concept that rings true for me, having just returned from a three week-trip to Italy. Dr. Sanford writes;

A pilgrim differs from a tourist in that the former seeks meaning, not diversion. Our students, prepared in advance, arrive at historical and religious sites ready to see them within a larger story: the unfolding of Western civilization and the Christian tradition. They discover that they, themselves belong to this story.

Though not anywhere near as well-prepared as these students, I hoped my trip to ancient cities and sites where Christianity took root, where it blossomed and where Christians faced persecution — even death for their faith — would change me. My husband and I took a flight a few days ahead of our tour group, to spend time in the churches and art museums of Florence.

Once our group arrived, the teaching we received helped us understand Roman society and culture during the time of the imprisonment of the Apostle Paul and through the Renaissance. In churches and museums, our hearts were lifted to worship. We learned that illiterate townspeople could “read” the story of the life, death and resurrection of Christ in paintings that adorn the walls of churches. The apostles’ stories were similarly chronicled in churches built to honor their lives and deaths.

Dr. Sanford, also a philosophy professor, takes students abroad during summer term. In his First Things article he addresses “the superabundance of western art and architecture” and asks: “Why so many churches adorned with frescoes, mosaics, and sculptures designed to last millennia? Why multi-course Italian meals when one would suffice?” These things, he says, “are expressions of our deepest longing for the eternal.”

The structure of ancient cathedrals lifts the eyes, drawing one’s attention above. There’s a sense of the nearness of Christ. How could I not be changed?