NGUYEN: Hope and renewal

St. Peter's Square. (CNS photo/Lola Gomez)Clutching my worn rosary beads, weaving between clusters of tourists on Rome’s ancient cobblestones, I’m suddenly snapped back to reality by the wail of police sirens. Sometimes it’s  hard to believe I’m here at all. Is this a dream? Am I really in the Eternal City, walking the same streets as countless saints and witnesses of faith?

Being in Rome, even for just a day, let alone during a Jubilee Year, once felt as unlikely as stepping onto another planet. Yet here I am. This isn’t luck or coincidence; I know, deep down, God meant for me to be here in this season of my life. It’s a gift, one I hold with a sense of awe and gratitude.  

Each day I pass through the Imperial Forum on my way to class, brushing by  ruins and statues that once seemed worlds away yet now rise up greeting me like dear, old friends. Somehow, I have easy access to St. Peter’s Basilica and all the churches of Rome, places where the saints once walked and prayed under the same vaulted ceilings. Each church building passes on a legacy of faith that seems to reach across centuries and is now deeply woven through my own life.  

Last December, someone asked, “Sister, what brings you to Rome this year, of all years?” I still think about that question. Is it my mother’s gentle faith  rooted in her conversion? Or the legacy of my ancestor, St. Da Minh Nhi, who was martyred for his faith in 19th-century Vietnam? Maybe it’s the courage of my parents, who left their home behind in search of freedom. Or  perhaps my provincial’s willing response to my request? The truth is,  it’s all of these — and something much more. I can only call it grace.

After several challenging years in ministry, I arrived in Rome on Oct. 3, 2024, feeling both excited and utterly exhausted. It was my first time living abroad, far from my family and my religious community. Everything was foreign — the language, the rhythm of life, even the city itself, cloaked in scaffolding and dust as it prepared for the Jubilee. In a way, that mess reflected what I felt deep down inside.

But as the year unfolded, change quietly took root. Rome’s statues and fountains emerged  from their scaffolding, restored to their original splendor, just as pilgrims from all over the world began arriving for the Jubilee celebrations, Pope Francis’ funeral, the Conclave and the historic election of the first pontiff from the U.S., Pope Leo XIV. I found myself swept up in history,  witnessing moments I never imagined I would see with my own eyes.

I never imagined I’d study at the Angelicum, where so many great theologians learned and taught, pray in Gemelli Hospital, or join the nightly candlelit rosaries in St. Peter’s Square as Pope Francis battled his final illness. I never pictured myself in the crowd beneath the Sistine Chapel, waiting and  watching for the white smoke. Nor could I ever have imagined feeling my own tears of joy and hope welling up within me and in all the faces around me — a sign that transformation was happening, both in the Church and within my own soul.

I certainly am not the same person who first stepped onto the cobblestones and roads in Rome. I am now able to confidently cross Rome’s busy streets without fear. My spirit is lighter, and  my heart feels full again. The classes, the friendships and the living witness of the saints have renewed me. Most of all,  I’m grateful for the slow, quiet healing  that’s come through prayer,  rest  and the simple gift of being in the Eternal City.

So, what brought me to Rome? It is simply God’s faithful love and grace unbounded. My heart has been renewed and transformed because I am a living witness to God leading me to places I never expected, at precisely the right moment, and the right time.

May we all be renewed by this past Jubilee Year of Hope, with the same love I have found deep within the heart of our Catholic Church. Amen. 

Sister Bernadette Nguyen, O.P., shared her story as part of the “Flourishing Sisterhood” project, an initiative of the Loyola Institute for Ministry in New Orleans. To learn more about the Institute and this project, visit cnh.loyno.edu/lim.