Piazza del Duomo, Milan
I’ve never been a very religious person. I went to church with my grandparents during holidays and attended a bible study camp but that was pretty much the extent of my religious encounters. Little did I know, that that was all about to change.
After ten days in Italy, I was kind of Duomo’d out. I had been to a handful of churches, countless museums, walked passed hundreds of gold Jesus paintings and ultimately they all started to look the same. We had spent three days wandering around Rome, eating breakfast just steps from the Colosseum, two days in rainy Florence and three days falling in love in Venice. By the time I got to Milan, that last thing I wanted to do was visit another Duomo.
My travel partner wanted to visit the outlet malls a train and bus ride away, while I, not wanting to be in transport a second longer, opted to roam around the center of the city. After window shopping for several hours, I needed somewhere to rest my feet. Despite feeling lackluster about other churches from the area, I mosied over and stood outside the Duomo.
Half of the left side was completely covered up by scaffolding, but the other half was a pristine white that resembled some type of marble. After watching a few school girls, who were playing tag, run inside without being stopped, I decided to peak my head in.
It didn’t strike me for awhile, but as I watched the girls playing hand games and two nuns talking over a bible, the scenery started to speak to me. There wasn’t a mass scheduled for awhile, so it was just the girls, nuns, construction workers and me.
The construction workers were actively preserving the church while these nuns were quietly sharing in this place where they felt safe and secure. At that exact moment, I was watching the historic and iconic segments of a religion being restored while at the same time observing that same religion being practiced, carried out and even opening the eyes of current practitioners. This struck me like no Bible reading or sermon ever had. Because instead of just reading about it or being told how to feel about God- I realized it was a living thing to these people; the old and the new, they are the same thing in this place and to these followers. Whereas whenever I was in Church, I felt like they were two separate things. Two children playing in a place not to be revered but a place to be enjoyed. I sat in the church for over an hour.
I can’t say I had a religious moment, but I did have a spiritual one; and whenever I think of Milan, I remember that Duomo.
Have you been to the Duomo in Milan or have a moment of spiritually happen to you when you least expected it to?
