By Lee Hak-ju, Reporter
October 6, 2026

 

Three generations of the Acutis family have ties to London

Relic and statue of the saint enshrined in the church where he was baptized

Pilgrims from around the world come to pay their respects



Baptized at Our Lady of Dolours Church in Chelsea

On May 18, 1991, a baby just two weeks old was baptized at a church in London. He was the son of an Italian couple, and his name was Carlo Acutis. He would go on to become the first saint of the millennial generation.

On September 9, the third day of a pilgrimage begun on the first anniversary of his canonization, I visited Our Lady of Dolours Church in Chelsea, west London. As soon as I stepped inside, a bulletin board introducing St. Carlo Acutis greeted visitors. It was crowded with articles and a poster marking the 35th anniversary of his baptism, featuring a photo of him as a baby. Having visited the Portland Hospital, where he was born, the day before, I felt the weight of finally arriving at the church where he was baptized. As it happens, this church, too, was founded by priests who came from Italy: the Order of Servants of Mary (OSM).

 

The long corridor leading from the entrance to the nave was lined with photos and descriptions from the website on Eucharistic miracles around the world that Acutis created. An elderly priest with white hair greeted me and my mother with a boyish smile. It was Father Paul Addison, the parish’s assistant priest, born in 1941, 50 years before Acutis and me.

He first led us to the baptistery, home to a large Art Deco bronze baptismal font made in the 1920s. “Traditionally, the font is placed at the entrance of the church. It signifies that through baptism we enter the Church.”

   

On either side of the font stood a portrait of Acutis and a copy of the baptismal register listing his dates of birth and baptism and the names of his parents and godparents. The register shows that his godfather was his paternal grandfather, who shared the saint’s name, and his godmother was his maternal grandmother, Luana.

The Acutis family’s ties to London span three generations. His paternal grandfather, an Italian who worked in finance, and his paternal grandmother, a Pole who had moved to Britain during World War II, were married in 1963 at Westminster Cathedral, the cathedral of the Archdiocese of Westminster. His father, Andrea, also worked at an investment bank in London.

“I’m told that when the baby was born, his grandmother insisted he be baptized. This was the family’s parish.”

Years later, at the age of nine, Acutis renewed his baptismal promises and reportedly told his parents, “We can never thank Jesus enough for giving us such a great gift as the sacrament of baptism.”

 

The priest who baptized the saint lived a life of charity for refugees

The priest who baptized Acutis 35 years ago was Father Nicholas Martin, then parish priest. He was the person I most wanted to meet on this pilgrimage to London. But Father Addison, a fellow member of the order who had known him since 1960, told me, “Father Martin died in 2003.” He passed away three years before Acutis.

According to Father Addison, Father Martin devoted himself to caring for refugees and asylum seekers. He set up a space for them south of the River Thames and, together with volunteers, connected them with medical and legal assistance. Along the way, he was badly beaten by someone who had come to him for help and was hospitalized. He later went on to help refugees in Scotland, and died of cancer of the face at the age of 58.

“We don’t know whether the assault caused the cancer. In the end, it was the cancer that took his life.”

Father Addison said, “The parish and the order are proud of Father Martin for baptizing Acutis.” Father Martin, like the saint, lived a life faithful to charity. How happy he must have been at the canonization of the boy he baptized. When I shared this thought, Father Addison laughed.

“I’m sure he threw a celebration in heaven with Carlo.”

 

In one corner of the church was a small prayer space with a relic of Acutis’s hair and a statue of the saint. The statue shows him in a red shirt, wearing a backpack and holding a rosary, flanked by panels presenting his sayings and his life of faith. What caught my eye were his “five steps to becoming a saint”: receive Communion often; spend time in Eucharistic adoration; go to confession and seek spiritual direction; grow in devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary and the saints; and practice charity.

“Pilgrims come from all over the world,” Father Addison said. In particular, he noted, “Catholics from the Gypsy, Roma and Traveller communities also bring their young people here to honor Acutis.”

“Carlo was a very ordinary person. He loved sports, and he loved the internet and music. At the same time, he was a wonderful Christian. People rejoice at the birth of a young saint.”

 

The passageway connecting the church to the primary school run by the order has become a small memorial to the saint, decorated by local young people themselves. Photos of Acutis wearing the jersey of his favorite soccer team or playing the saxophone stood out, along with a game console and a computer.

“Carlo’s death was a great sorrow. I, too, have cared for young people dying of leukemia. It’s not easy.”

Acutis returned to Milan with his family just four months after he was born. Though he spent only a brief part of his short 15 years in London, the church where he was baptized honors him throughout. In the rectory, I also came across a large bust of the saint.

 

“The Church in Europe is quiet, but alive”

When I first arrived in London, I was half worried, half curious: what would the Catholic Church look like in a place with such a strong Anglican tradition, and would the faithful remember Acutis? I found my answer at St. Charles Borromeo Church, which I happened to walk into near the hospital where Acutis was born.

At the entrance, beside a photo of Acutis, stood a collection box for food aid for low-income families. Though it was a weekday morning, some 30 parishioners of many different backgrounds were attending Mass with evident devotion. I could feel both the universality of the Catholic Church and the character of London as a multiethnic city. The solemn Mass at the cathedral and the beautiful singing of the boys’ choir also left a strong impression.

My mother, children’s author Rosa Jin Jeong, who had heard only that the Church in Europe was in decline, said to Father Addison, “Who said the Church in Europe is dead? Look how alive the churches in London are!”

Father Addison smiled and replied, “Quiet, but very much alive.”