Es Brasil!

Salvador de Bahía, Brasil

Well, friends, I'm back from three wonderful, intense, memorable, and grace-filled weeks in Brasil. Participating in the Magis program and the events of World Youth Day brought me into contact with inspiring youth from all over the world, the vibrant culture and humbling hospitality of South America's largest country, and a remarkable experience of the Catholic Church on both a global and a local scale. The trip was not without its challenges– most media outlets noticed some of the disorganization that arose as Rio de Janeiro struggled to transport and accommodate an influx of pilgrims that numbered half its population– but what I'll remember most (and post about in more detail soon) are the countless instances of ordinary people encountering one another in peace, joy, faith, and friendship.

Santa Marta, Rio de Janeiro, Brasil

For now, though, a few notable "It's Brasil" moments:

• Streamers and flags make everything better. During an afternoon when 2,000 students of Jesuit universities in 30 countries wandered through the streets of Salvador de Bahía, our melting pot of languages and cultures was stirred into joyful fervor by simple decorations strung above the alleys in the oldest part of the city, home to a Jesuit church and some charming religious and residential architecture.
• The favelas are places of bizarre paradoxes and unsettling graces. The largest, Rocinha, constitutes a full 10% of Rio's population. Another, Santa Marta, is just down the street from the Jesuit high school, and scales at a dizzying pitch the side of the same rocky massif crowned by the city's iconic Cristo Redentor statue. Narrow alleys, cramped living quarters, and tremendously improvised electrical, water, and sewage systems are blunt signs of physical and economic poverty, yet there's a radiant spirit in these communities that feel so close-knit and have some of the best vistas of the city's diverse social and physical landscape.
• On the first afternoon of World Youth Day, the city's transportation system effectively collapsed. A power outage closed the subway, and tens (if not hundreds) of thousands of pilgrims soon overwhelmed the buses as they all tried to reach Copacabana Beach for the opening Mass. Rather than delve into the crowds, a few Jesuits and I decided to walk the two miles from the English-language catechesis center to the high school where we were staying. Ten minutes into our walk, as we stood at a street corner getting our bearings on a map, a Rio resident offered to help, and then accompanied us for the next hour, as she was heading home to the same neighborhood, unable to get a bus home from work. While we exchanged some justified frustration at the transit failure, we spent far more time sharing our life stories, our impressions of Pope Francis, and a sense of companionship that quickly bridged cultural and linguistic differences.
• For the close of World Youth Day, 3 million people (many of them camping out the previous night) gathered on the beach and sidewalk for Mass with Pope Francis on a splendid Sunday morning. Although my fellow pilgrims and I stood roughly 2 miles from the altar, we felt a clear sense of connection to the community– the largest assembly for a single event in Rio's history– that participated in a liturgy unlike any I've ever seen. Even the street vendors and the military helicopters patrolling the scene (with obviously different purposes) pulled back and quieted down during Mass. Our little patch of sidewalk was as much a part of the Church as any other for a mile in either direction.

Crowds gathered for Mass with Pope Francis
Copacabana Beach, Rio de Janeiro, Brasil

These and other insights and memories from my time in Brasil deserve further elaboration, which I'll compose and share in the coming days. I'm already missing the "cidade maravilhosa," but keenly aware that its spirit is now rooted within me, poised for growth and fruitfulness that I can't yet imagine.