There’s always a blend of sadness and excitement when I leave Cincinnati to return to my studies in Rome. It’s tough to leave home: family, parishioners, Skyline Chili, and the Midwest’s iconic seasons, especially the snowfalls (Rome only sees snow once every 10 years); but it is exciting and a tremendous blessing to be a student priest in the very heart of the Church. This past Jubilee Year brought newfound excitement with the opening of the Holy Doors, election of Pope Leo XIV, canonizations of Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis, declaration of John Henry Newman as a Doctor of the Church, and much more!

We’ve experienced huge, very huge, numbers here in Rome: more than 2,000 American pilgrims come every week to our residence to pick up a Wednesday audience ticket to see the pope. When they arrive, it’s a great opportunity for conversation (in English, thank the Lord), hospitality, tips for navigating the city, and most importantly, the Sacrament of Confession—a full-service pit stop! After hearing a few hours of confessions for pilgrims one day, I had to ask myself, what really brings all these people here? There is a fiery excitement in their eyes and hearts, there is some reason for hope. That reason, I believe, is something more than the Sistine Chapel, Pietà, carbonara, and perhaps even more than Pope Leo or the tomb of St. Peter. But what is it?

When Pope Francis opened the Jubilee Year with Spes Non Confundit (Hope Does Not Disappoint), he invited us to “reflect on the reasons for our hope” (1 Pt 3:15). What is our hope? The hope of the Christian is not anything in this world, for we are not at home here, “The world is thy ship, not thy home” wrote St. Thérèse, the Little Flower.

Our hope is not a naïve optimism about “our times” but founded on an eternal fact: our eternal destination. It is our eternal home that is our hope. Founded on baptism and carried along in our faith life, we are aboard the Church who catches the winds and cuts the waves with the successor of St. Peter (the pope) at the helm, the Blessed Virgin Mary as our guiding star, and Jesus, our Lord, drawing us to Himself. Pope Leo said that “[Jesus] is also the destination of our journey,” for it is Jesus himself who is “our hope” (1 Tm 1:1); He is our hope and home who draws us to the white shores, the rolling hills, and the far green country. It is eternal life with Jesus that is our destination, and it is our Church that guides us safely to Him. I am moved to think that Pope Francis had this in mind in initiating the jubilee, not realizing he would be full sail to his eternal home before the close of the year.

The Jubilee Year will conclude with the closing of the Holy Door at St. Peter’s Basilica on January 6, 2026, the Solemnity of the Epiphany; but like the Magi, this does not mean the end of our journey to Jesus. All of us are on a daily journey home: Jesus draws us to Himself in our life of prayer and in the sacraments, especially in the confessional and the Tabernacle—Carlo Acutis used to say that we go on pilgrimage every time we make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament—and He draws us in our love for our fellow travelers. This world is not our home, but aboard the Church we can sail confidently together to Him who is our hope of glory. ✣

Fr. Anthony Marcelli, ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of Cincinnati in 2021, is currently assigned to graduate studies at the Pontifical North American College in Rome.

This article appeared in the December 2025 edition of The Catholic Telegraph Magazine. For your complimentary subscription, click here.