​  It would take a very special companion to join me for a week praying for peace in Rome, or anywhere for that matter. It could happen, but being alone makes it all the more possible.
      Praying for peace is what I did in Rome before going to Florence for the second week of my September solitary vacation. My original plan was to pray for peace and light a candle in as many of the Rome’s 900 churches as I could enter. Then I thought 100 would be a sensible number until I realized that 100 would catapult me into a frenzy, checking them off at the expense of being prayerful or even forgetting to pray before moving on to the next. It also became apparent that lighting a candle wasn’t always what I wanted to do with my budgeted coins. I don’t like paying to light an electronic ‘candle’, and sometimes I’d rather give to a homeless person who was virtually living on the church steps. 
      But before I go on, let me offer a few comments about this praying for peace idea. I am a Christian, a liberal one, who believes that God loves everyone and wants peace for everyone, and that Jesus’ teaches us to feed the hungry and welcome the stranger. I believe in prayer and it’s power, not only because I helps me but because it instills love and positive energy into the world. (Don’t ask me for proof or intellectual analysis, and I won’t ask you if the world needs peace.)
      My action plan was simple: enter a church that I came upon during my walks, sit in the pew, and lift up love. No judgments, no conditions. Just pray for peace. Sometimes I would say the Lord’s Prayer, or light a candle. What were the results? Personally, I was more peaceful. I felt more loving and less annoyed or judgmental about situations that I encountered on my travels. On universal level, each time I left a church I felt more hopeful about the possibility of peace than when I had entered. If I don’t feel and act peaceful, if I don’t do my part, how can I have hope that anyone else will? Hmm, what if everyone in the world prayed for peace? We reap what we sow, individually and collectively.
      Because of this prayer plan, I entered churches I might never have chosen to step foot in. But I am also a tourist, who enjoys art, architecture, and history. Every church I entered had an early church history and over the years each had been restored. In the late 16th century (after the Council of Trent, 1545-1563) and into the 17th century, when the Roman Papacy became powerful, the Baroque style captured most of the churches in Rome (Santa Maria sopra Minerva and the Pantheon being exceptions), with its curves, circles, sculpture. Interesting to note that this extremely embellished art form was in response to the Protestant Reformation, which among other things, protested the church’s sale of indulgences and other forms of materialism.
    It could be said that if you’ve seen one baroque church in Rome, you’ve seen them all. Not true. Look and see. 

​     And then there is St. Peter’s. I knew there would be hours of waiting in line and going through security to get into the basilica , so I left my visit to this church of all churches to my last morning in Rome. My week-long bus pass was still active and my train to Florence wasn’t until 9:35, so at 6:30 I hopped on Bus 64 to the square, only to greeted by crowds of people waiting to get into the square which was blocked off. The were waiting for Pope Francis’ Wednesday’s weekly outdoor audience.
   I recalled a time ten or so years ago when I arrived at 10 and followed the crowd, found a seat and was one of the ‘thousands gathered at St. Peter’s Square’ when Pope Benedict said Mass, and was then driven around in this pope-mobile to bless us. This time I said a prayer and went on my way to Rome Termini.

     When I go to Florence I walk around with God. Oh, I do other things: I write, visit museums, and of course, I eat. There are plenty of cafes and parks for writing, museums at every corner, and restaurants sprinkled throughout the city. And of course there are churches. Since I travel alone, my time is my own.

     Italy is a Roman Catholic country, but to walk around with God you don’t have to be Catholic, Christian, or even affiliated with a religious tradition. You just have to long to find that deepest part of your being, to rest in the Holy, to search for the ineffable, to seek out your true self, to breathe in peace--that kind of thing. I call it longing for God, but pick your own term, or, keep it nameless. God is wherever you want God to be and in what every image or non-image God is for you.

     Visiting churches in Florence isn’t the only way to walk around with God, but it’s a good start. One website lists 71 churches within the confines of this small city, which means that just by wandering a short distance you will come across more churches than you could possibly visit.  Vsiting hours vary, but don’t let that deter you. There are plenty open to fit your schedule.

     Visiting these churches immerses me in my absolute favorite period and place in history, Renaissance Florence. With its blossoming in the 14th century, to full bloom in the 15th, several factors came together: the construction of churches and secular buildings as people migrated to the city; the birth of religious orders; the establishment of a republican form of government; the creation of guilds; the acceleration of trade; the Florentine gold florin as the dominant trade coin in Western Europe; and the rising of the Medici family as a political force and patron of the arts.

     I continue to be amazed at the number of churches and public buildings built or enlarged upon during the tre cento (1300s) as urban expansion continued, religious orders flourished, and the common folk found a voice. Equally remarkable are the artists, poets, and philosophers, who, with the patronage of the Medici, birthed Renaissance Florence during the quattro cento (1400s).

    I start one of my favorite walks with God in the early morning, but any time will do. By 7 A.M. I have begun a walking tour of the foremost churches of Florence built by one of the religious order that flourished during the 13th and 14th centuries. Each one radiates from Santa Maria dei Fiori, referred to as the Duomo, so I usually start out at this epicenter that is the soul of Florence. Regardless of the route I take, I figure I cover about five miles on this two hour city circuit, which includes time to take photos of the facades and to stop for a cappuccino or two.