Berkley Center

If there has been one thing that I have learned during my first month of studying abroad, it is that Italy is one of the world’s largest tourist magnets. Living in the hills of Fiesole, I am isolated from the masses of tourists that descend upon Florence every year. This all changes, however, when I board the #7 bus, take the winding road into Florence, and get off at the stop right next to the Duomo, Florence’s cathedral. The line to enter the cathedral and the throngs swarming around the piazza between the cathedral steps and the baptistery doors never cease to amaze and overwhelm me. What is it about Italy that is so alluring to millions of people each year?

For me, it was the culture. It was the combination of Florence’s history, art, food, and people that made it impossible for me to bypass the opportunity to live here for three months. What we fail to realize, however, is that religion, specifically Catholicism, is woven into many of these same cultural aspects that draw visitors to Italy. One would be foolish to leave Florence without seeing Brunelleschi’s Cupola of the Duomo, Ghiberti’s Gates of Paradise, or the hundreds of Renaissance masterpieces held at the Galleria degli Uffizi, many of which feature religious themes.

In addition to the obvious aesthetic appeal of these sites, an enormous tourist attraction within Italy is religion itself. The prevalence of religion for tourists in Italy is not surprising. What is surprising, however, is how something that attracts so many visitors to Italy is absent from the lives of many Italians. Sure, technically 90 percent of Italians are Roman Catholic, yet only one-third of these Roman Catholics actually practice their religion. It took me a month before I realized this. While in Rome, I joined hundreds of people waiting in line to attend Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica. In Florence, I have stood with busloads of tourists in the Duomo for Sunday morning Mass.

Yet when I walk up the hill on Sunday morning to the piazza in Fiesole, I encounter no crowds. I stroll into the church and come upon rows of empty pews. By the start of Mass, 50 locals may have filtered in, scattering among the seats. As I attempt to follow the Mass with my little skill in Italian, I gaze around and quickly realize that my friend and I are the only young adults in the church. The rest of the congregation is either members of the Sunday school class or senior citizens.

My expedition to a local, non-tourist-filled Mass revealed not only the absence of regular religious practice among Italians but also a significant generation gap in the few and proud that do make it out to church on Sundays. I have yet to discern what it is that causes both this lack of religious participation and this generation gap. Could it be that Italians tend to rediscover religion at a certain age? Or is it that this generation gap is the result of a change in the priorities and teachings of today’s typical Italian family? At this point, your guess is as good as mine. I have not yet uncovered the reasons for this discrepancy between Italy’s religious traditions and its citizens’ lack of religious commitment. But by steering clear of the tour buses and fanny packs, I hope to gain a deeper understanding.