Pope Leo XIV\u2019s recent visit to Spain has been a true celebration for thousands of Catholics. We\u2019ve seen long lines, packed squares, and people traveling hundreds of kilometers in the hope of catching a glimpse of him for just a few seconds. The excitement was palpable. And yet, all this joy has brought to light a paradox worth reflecting on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Comedian Nachter illustrated this perfectly in one of his Reels. With his lighthearted style, he showed how Christians who wait in line for hours to get close to the Pope are the same ones who sit in the back pews when they attend Mass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I see this every Sunday at my parish. The pastor never begins the service until the front pews are filled. However, there\u2019s rarely a crowd scrambling for those prime seats. Quite the opposite, in fact: it\u2019s often the pastor himself who has to point at someone to fill that empty pew. It\u2019s curious: we\u2019re there to encounter God, but we don\u2019t seem particularly interested in getting closer to Him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps, in this sense, we Christians could learn something from Bad Bunny\u2019s fans. His fans are eager to be at the famous \u00abcasita\u00bb; they stand in endless lines to get a better view of the artist or even to touch him. They enjoy the event to the fullest, and when they leave, they boast about having experienced something extraordinary: \u00abI saw Bad Bunny up close!\u00bb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The comparison may seem provocative, but what kind of image do we project of our faith if we follow Christ with less enthusiasm than we do an artist? St. Carlo Acutis himself wondered the very same thing. His mother recounted that he couldn\u2019t understand why people didn\u2019t line up to visit the King of the Universe, alive and real in the tabernacle: \u00abEternal Life is in the tabernacle, and yet the churches are empty,\u00bb he would say. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As Matthew said: \u00abYou are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.\u201d Who would dare to become a fan of God if those who claim to follow Him aren\u2019t lining up to see Him? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the issue goes far beyond the witness we give to others. It also affects our own spiritual life. The greatest danger for any believer is not usually outright rejection of God, but routine. Routine. That is why we should strive to remain \u00absalt\u00bb and cultivate a sense of wonder at God\u2019s greatness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What a blessed sense of wonder! Saint John Paul II spoke of two spiritual attitudes for discovering God, who comes to meet us. \u00abThe second\u2014after attentive and watchful waiting\u2014is admiration, a sense of wonder. We must open our eyes to admire God, who hides himself and at the same time reveals himself in all things\u00bb (General Audience, July 26, 2000).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That is why the devil is eager to rob us of this sense of wonder. He wants us to take God\u2019s wonders for granted, thereby dampening our passion and our desire to see Him. How can we take for granted that God speaks to us like a lover in every Liturgy of the Word? How can we take for granted that He dies for us and bears our sins? How can we get used to the fact that God thirsts to see us and will do anything to meet us?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps that is why the Pope\u2019s visit has also been an opportunity\u2014an opportunity to ask ourselves whether we live out our faith from the back row or from the front row, and to ask ourselves whether we seek Christ with the dedication he deserves. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because when the crowds disperse and the big events are over, Jesus will still be waiting for us in the tabernacle. No spotlights. No applause. No lines. And perhaps the real question isn\u2019t how moved we were to see the Pope, but how much we long to draw closer to Christ every day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Let's hope we learn to live out our faith to the fullest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n