On Feb. 22, the Church marks the feast of the Chair of St. Peter. Some people — even some Catholics — misunderstand why we celebrate this special day. Studies have shown that the Church does not possess an actual chair used by the first pope. Instead, the feast celebrates the authority Christ himself gave to St. Peter and his successors — including Pope Francis.
Last fall, to my astonishment, I learned that representatives from Our Sunday Visitor were being invited to Rome to attend a private audience with the Holy Father for our company’s role in the International Catholic Media Consortium on COVID-19 Vaccines. Led by our colleagues at Aleteia, the consortium acted as a fact-checking group of Catholic media members, doctors and scientists who joined together to correct errors being spread about COVID-19 and the vaccines developed to prevent its spread.
There was no guarantee that any of us would actually get to meet the pope. With the omicron variant of COVID-19 surging in both the United States and in Italy, there was no guarantee that the audience would be held at all. But we all hoped and prayed, and a week before we were scheduled to leave, the Vatican sent word that the meeting would indeed take place.
After the initial shock subsided and we’d all jumped through the necessary hoops (foreign travel isn’t easy in these crazy pandemic days), six of us from OSV landed in Rome. On Jan. 28 at 7:15 a.m. Rome time (that’s 1:15 a.m. back home; we were carried by the adrenaline of it all), we gathered with dozens of our consortium colleagues in St. Peter’s Square, where we waited to be ushered into the apostolic palace. We snaked our way through Bernini’s famous colonnade and passed through a couple of security checkpoints (the last of which included a very serious-looking, axe-wielding member of the Swiss Guard).
After ascending a series of magnificent (and seemingly endless) marble staircases, our group reached Clementine Hall, an exquisite room with brilliant marble floors and Renaissance frescoes painted on every surface of the walls and ceiling. There were six or seven rows of chairs set up, separated by a wide aisle down the middle. After having our breath taken away by the beauty of the hall — and the long walk to get there — the first thing I noticed was the lone white chair sitting atop a small riser at the front of the room.
As incredible as they were, the centuries-old paintings faded into the background, and as we took our seats, I couldn’t stop looking at this chair. It wasn’t ornamental like you’d expect given the setting. It looked sturdy, but not a throne by any measure. It was simple and humble — a chair befitting the successor of St. Peter, himself a humble fisherman.
The room buzzed when Pope Francis entered, and we all stood, craning our necks to get our first glimpse of the pope. As he laboriously walked over to his chair, the 85-year-old pontiff looked his age. His knees are bad, and it’s obvious that his sciatica causes him great pain. But when he sat — and when he spoke — the years peeled away, leaving his gentleness and wisdom to shine forth.
After he spoke, Pope Francis greeted each of us individually. While waiting in line, I fixed my hair, straightened my tie and thought about what I was going to say to him. But before I got it squared away, the person in front of me broke left and there I was, face to face with the Holy Father. I grabbed his hand with both of mine and I thanked him for his ministry. I asked him to pray for my son, Dominic Francis, named after him, who also wants to be a priest. I assured him of my family’s prayers and returned to my seat.
After a few group photos and a short time to reflect on the incredible opportunity we all had been given, we were quickly ushered out of the hall. But before we left, I glanced back toward the front of the room. The pope was gone, but his chair remained. Such has been the case for 2,000 years.
Scott Warden is managing editor of Our Sunday Visitor.
