G.K. Chesterton once remarked that an adventure is really an inconvenience “rightly considered.”

If that’s true, then Bishop Kevin Rhoades went on a proper quest during his recent time in Italy. One that included a series of mishaps, but also brought the 67-year-old Indiana bishop back to the roots of his vocation and to an encounter with Our Lady of Loreto, who the Church celebrates on Dec. 10.

The adventure began during the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend bishop’s time in Rome this past October as a delegate to the Synod on Synodality.

Just before the final week of proceedings began, participants were given a “free weekend,” Oct. 19-20.

As Bishop Rhoades recounted to the Register, he decided to use his free time to get away from “the business of Rome,” and visit a destination he’d never visited before: the Holy House of Mary, located in the central Italian town of Loreto, just off the Adriatic Sea.

As a seminarian, Bishop Rhoades had studied at the North American College in Rome, and traveled extensively throughout Italy. But he’d never been to Loreto, which is about 170 miles to the northeast of Italy’s ancient capital. 

Why not? Because, as he shared with the Register, he found the pious legend that angels had miraculously carried Mary’s house in Nazareth to the Italian town in 1294 AD to be “a little far-fetched.” 

But the bishop had recently read a book on the Holy House, which suggested that the structure had been transported by crusaders in the 13th century to protect it from Muslim attacks. And the group that funded the transport? The Angeli family, a coincidence that likely gave rise to legends of the structure’s supernatural transport.

Furthermore, scientific studies have shown that the building material of the Holy House is consistent with structures from the Holy Land that existed during the time of Mary.

“‘It sounds like there’s something to this,’” Bishop Rhoades recalls thinking. 

Additionally, the Fort Wayne-South Bend shepherd has a strong devotion to Mary and the Annunciation, with her “fiat” serving as a major inspiration during his own vocational discernment. The possibility of being in the same room where that pivotal event took place was too much to pass up. And so Bishop Rhoades decided to visit the Holy House.

There was just one problem: There weren’t any suitable places to stay in Loreto, a town of about 13,000.

So Bishop Rhoades ended up booking a hotel about five miles away on a quiet stretch of the coast.

Regarding travel in between his hotel and Loreto, the Indiana bishop recalls thinking, “Oh, that’ll be easy.”

It wasn’t. 

For starters, when he arrived at Loreto’s train station late at night, there was no public transportation to his hotel available. He ended up taking a cab that was far more expensive than he’d bargained for.

The next day, he got up to take a 7:15 a.m. bus to the Holy House, one of only three available all day. But because he’d gotten in late, he hadn’t been able to purchase a bus ticket from a local store. He offered to pay in euros, but was denied. He ended up getting a free ride, but also earned the ire of the bus driver.

But the most difficult leg of his travels awaited him on his way back to his hotel amid a stormy afternoon.

With no more buses leaving from Loreto to his hotel, Bishop Rhoades figured that there may be more direct transportation options available in the town of Porto Recanati, which is about five miles down the coast from his hotel.

So he took a train from Loreto to the coastal port — arriving at what he described as a “ghost town.”

“Nothing was open,” he recalls. “There were no taxis or buses to be found.”

The American prelate did what any 60-something-year-old stranded in a foreign town would do amidst inclement weather: He started walking. 

The rain was coming down, which probably didn’t help the cold that Bishop Rhoades was trying to get over. And about halfway along his route, things got even damper.

Walking along the Adriatic, the midwestern bishop decided he would go down to the beach to at least touch the waters of the sea — and as he bent down, a big wave came in and drenched him.

He eventually reached his hotel, sopping wet.

“They felt bad for me,” he said about the hotel staff.

But his unfortunate state actually provided an opening to connect with his Italian hosts, who had previously regarded him as something of an oddity. They spoke with him and were eager to share some of their culinary specialties.

And, in fact, Bishop Rhoades said he was grateful for the whole misadventure, which brought him out of his comfort zone and back to the roots of his own vocation.

The experience of being out on the road and on his own reminded the prelate, who has been a bishop now for 20 years, of his seminary days, especially a two-month European backpacking trip he made with a friend, equipped with nothing but $11 a day and a EuroRail pass.

Bishop Rhoades didn’t lose 25 pounds on this excursion like he did on that one some 40 years ago. But the roughness of the journey was a welcome jolt, providing a trip down memory lane and an experience of Mary-like poverty and dependency upon the Lord. 

Additionally, the Indiana bishop had great things to say about the actual Holy House of Loreto, which he described as a “worthwhile pilgrimage site.” 

He spent time in prayer inside the house attributed to Mary itself, as well as the basilica that has been built around it. In the room where the Incarnation “may have very well happened,” he prayerfully recalled Mary’s words in connection with his own vocation: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord. … Let it be done to me according to thy Word.” 

“It was just what I wanted,” said Bishop Rhoades, describing the whole affair as “definitely spiritually refreshing.”

And if the legendary Holy House angels had offered to help him avoid his travel misadventures by giving him a lift? He might’ve even said No.