Pearls in Rome, Day Four (St. John Lateran, St. Mary Major)

Churches, Churches...and MORE Churches!

If you've been following along here recently, you already know what my husband and I did on Day One, Day Two, and Day Three of our recent Roman holiday.  I meant to continue adding to this blog series in a timely fashion, but first I wanted to enjoy the Easter Triduum.  Then some things came up with my large and ever-growing family, and I don't know where the days went.  Then yesterday, I finally got around to putting together my thoughts about Day Four, along with a whole slew of carefully chosen pictures...and then just as I was finishing up, I pushed some button I shouldn't have and made the entire post I'd been working on for more than two hours disappear into thin air.  AAAGGGHHH!!!  I had to walk away from my computer for a bit (great advice from my favorite travel buddy and back-haver), clear my head, and just forget all about blogging for a while.

I'll tell you, there is nothing worse than trying to reconstruct something you've already written, edited, polished up until it sounds just the way you want it to, and then DELETED BY MISTAKE!!  It's a writer's nightmare.  But there is at least one person who's waiting with baited breath for the next installment of the "Pearls in Rome" series (I'm talking about you, baby sister), so I thought I better just get over it and start from scratch.

So here goes.

When we got back from what I like to call our trip of a lifetime, one of my daughters-in-law asked, "What was your favorite thing about Rome?" At first, I felt overwhelmed and couldn't decide which thing to choose, because I had loved it all so much.  But then I remembered that there was really only one answer to such a question, and that was the churches!  Another daughter-in-law asked if the trip felt like more of a second honeymoon or a pilgrimage, and I answered that it would have to be considered a combination of the two.  My husband and I had decided that this trip was going to be a celebration of both our 35th and 40th anniversaries, since we are right about in the middle of those two milestones right now.  (Most years, we just go out for a dinner-and-movie anniversary date; but we thought it was about time we celebrated in style!)  So of course there was that romantic element that made us feel like a couple of lovesick honeymooners during our wonderful weeklong getaway.  But Rome is indeed a veritable "Catholic Disneyland," and the astonishing and breathtaking beauty of the many churches we visited made our trip to that Eternal City feel very much like a religious pilgrimage as well.

Saturday, March 23

Okay then, let's talk about churches!

We started out Day Four with a visit to San Giovanni in Laterano (St. John Lateran), one of the four major basilicas in Rome.  (We had seen the first of the four, St. Paul Outside the Walls, on Day Three.)  I don't even know how to describe this magnificent church other than to say that it took my breath away.  I was especially impressed by the enormous marble statues of all twelves apostles, standing in giant niches along both sides of the main aisle.

Did you even notice me in this picture?  I am dwarfed by the grandeur on display in this church!

Next, we went to Santa Maria Maggiore (St. Mary Major), another one of the Big Four.  As with all the churches we visited in Rome, I spent much of my time inside looking up and snapping pictures of the ceilings.  The ceilings are so ornately decorated and so full of otherworldly beauty that just gazing up at their artistic splendor makes you feel as if you are in Heaven.  They are to die for (and truly, I hope that when I die, I go to a place that looks like the paintings that grace the ceilings of the Catholic churches throughout Rome!).

After St. Mary Major, we visited Santa Maria della Vittoria (St. Mary of the Victory), a "small" church that probably isn't even listed in the tour guide books as a "must see."  But oh, I am so glad I got to see it!  This church is just stunningly, achingly beautiful--as you can plainly see from the photos.  It is a feast for the eyes--and for the soul!  (As a bonus, this church is the final resting place of Saint Victoria, whose preserved remains are on display inside a glass case.)

These ceilings!  Aren't they glorious?!

The preserved body of Saint Victoria.

After spending most of the day exploring those three magnificent churches, my husband and I made a quick pitstop at a café and had a beer (him) and a cappuccino (me), then we strolled over to the Trevi Fountain, which we had only visited after dark thus far (towards the end of Day One).  We threw three coins in the fountain, because I guess that's what you're supposed to do.

We found an eatery near the Trevi Fountain and enjoyed another relaxing dinner al fresco.  I ordered spaghetti carbonera and it was delizioso!  (My dinner date wasn't too shabby, either.)

After dinner, we walked back to our little VRBO apartment.  We passed the Pantheon, as we always did on our way back "home" each night, and enjoyed seeing it all lit up and its piazza filled with merry-makers.

As usual, we stopped for our nightly gelato fix at our favorite Italian ice cream shop, Giolitti's.  (You could say that it was either convenient or dangerous having Giolitti's literally around the corner from our apartment; we decided it was convenient.)

And that was the end of Day Four.  We only had three days left to explore Rome, and already I was feeling wistful about how much I would miss our little Roman neighborhood just down the street from the Pantheon...

There's more to come (including our trip to the last of the four major basilicas of Rome, St. Peter's)--and soon, I hope!

Good Friday 2019

The dripping blood our only drink,

The bloody flesh our only food:

In spite of which we like to think

That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood--

Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

--T. S. Eliot

I will always think of having the opportunity to stand so near Michelangelo's original 

"Pieta," during our trip to Rome in March, as one of the greatest privileges of my life.

On this day every year, I think about the promise that Our Lord made to St. Dismas, the "Good Thief," when they were hanging side by side and that poor sinner implored, "Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom."  Imagine being told by Jesus Himself, "Today you will be with me in Paradise." 

There is hope for every one of us, then, isn't there?  And all because of what happened on this Friday that we call Good.

A Holy Thursday Reflection

I may have two published novels out there, but I don't think of myself as an exceptionally talented writer.  I'm not even the best writer in my family.  I am related to people, by both blood and marriage, who absolutely blow me away with their ability to express the thoughts and feelings that live in the deepest recesses of the human soul--and express them far better than I ever could.

I'm not trying to be self-deprecating here about my writing ability (although self-deprecation is kind of my trademark move); I think I've been able to use a God-given talent for manipulating words to become a decent storyteller.  But a gifted essayist I am not.

This past week, I have been reading some deeply moving commentaries about the recent fire that nearly destroyed Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.  So many writers whom I admire (people whose accounts I follow on Instagram, mostly) have been eloquently putting into words exactly how that tragedy made me feel, and these words have often brought me to tears.

@simplelifemusings had this to say about the tragic fire: "It is the beginning of Holy Week.  This does not feel like a coincidence.  The week that the world was redeemed through suffering and death.  It is the story that resounds with the most fundamental stirrings of the human soul that there is hope in the darkness, that we should not be afraid.  God's triumphant love wins.  And Our Lady, handmaid of the Lord, Mother of Divine Grace, Seat of Wisdom, Morning Star, Undoer of Knots, Refuge of Sinners has once again shown us the way."

Then there was this from @smallthings.gr8love, along with a picture of the large cross inside the cathedral that survived the conflagration: "Beauty rises from the ashes.  As the cross stands in the midst of fire and destruction, so does our faith."

From @catholicallyear, there was this: "We Americans hear so often that Europe, and especially France, has lost interest in her Catholic heritage and her Cathedrals and relics.  As utterly devastating as it was to see Notre Dame de Paris in flames yesterday, it was a gift to the world to see that story disproven.  It was beautiful to see priests and firefighters risking their lives for the art and relics that are such a part of our shared Catholic faith and history.  The people of France in their grief, being comforted by coming together in prayer and in hymn was a lesson to the world of how relevant our faith is.  I look forward to us coming together to rebuild this landmark of Catholicism for ourselves and our children."

I read so many other tender Instagram reflections on the symbolism of this event and the importance of resurrecting this iconic French cathedral--a beloved monument that is so important to Catholics all over the world--from the ashes.

I gave up Facebook as one of my Lenten sacrifices this year--in part because it makes me waste too much time, time that I should be spending on more important matters; and in part because some of the posts I see on there--shared memes being the usual culprits, especially ones that denigrate the Catholic Church and its faithful--tend to make my blood boil.  Scrolling Facebook, I believe, has become an occasion of sin for me, so I figured it was better to give it up and stick to the much more inspiring offerings on IG.

Well, for some perverse reason, I broke my Lenten Facebook fast for a short time today.  I felt guilty for being so weak...but then I stumbled upon an exchange that made me believe that perhaps I was meant to give in to this sudden urge to see what I'd been missing.

I figured the Facebook friends who aren't exactly fans of religion in general and Catholicism in particular would have some upsetting things to say about the Notre Dame fire, and sure enough, they did.  Here is a tweet that was shared that caused an almost physical reaction when I read it; I mean truly, it made my heart hurt. "Speaking as a Catholic here...please don't donate to help Notre Dame.  The Church is worth $30 billion. Donate to help Puerto Rico recover.  Donate to get the people of Flint clean water.  Donate to get kids out of cages.  Jesus didn't care about stained glass.  He cared about humans."

Blood temperature rising...because all I could think was that this self-proclaimed "Catholic" was probably pro-choice, too, judging by the liberal tone of her tweet, and didn't she wonder if Jesus cared about those little humans growing in their mothers' wombs?  (Unfair, I know; maybe she was a pro-life advocate and I was completely misjudging her.)  Then I thought, why is it assumed that Catholics who appreciate the physical beauty of churches--the houses of God--are not also concerned with helping the poor and suffering throughout the world?  Doesn't this person know that faithful Christians are more generous with their time and money when it comes to giving aid to the needy than any other demographic group on earth?

I was angry; my brain was on fire, and if I'd written a comment myself it would not have been calmly thought-out.  Luckily, I saw that one of my sweet daughters-in-law had left a comment on this post that said what needed to be said perfectly.  I thought it was brilliant, and I wanted to share it with you here.  My brave-hearted girl wrote, "There's no reason someone can't do both [donate to rebuild the cathedral and help others in need].  But to be fair, when you behold something as epic and grand as a cathedral, like that of Notre Dame, it ignites a spiritual fire within you.  It reminds you that there is something so much greater than you and that the majesty of God is beyond beautiful.  It's those moments that remind you to see outside yourself and remind you to look to others and help them, and sometimes move you to tears.  Since the fire of Notre Dame, people have been inspired to not just donate to Notre Dame, but to black churches here that were burned from arson.  This woman [who wrote this tweet] is seeing this from a very myopic perspective and fails to realize that by helping to restore a religious masterpiece, Notre Dame will continue, hopefully for centuries to come, to inspire Catholics around the globe to be in awe of God's presence and feel motivated to do more for their fellow man as well."

I could not have said it better--that girl can write!   And I believe God wanted me to see her beautiful comment today, to be reminded that even though the world sometimes appears to be an unsalvageable mess, the younger generation of Catholics who are raising their children right now are the hope of the future.  Their faith will move mountains--and rebuild cathedrals.

Before being burned at the stake for her faith, Joan of Arc famously said, "Hold the cross high so I may see it through the flames."

St. Joan of Arc, pray for us!

May we all continue to see Jesus' Cross and appreciate the enormity of His Sacrifice and His love, no matter how high the flames grow or how hot the fire gets.

Pearls in Rome, Day Three (Catacombs, St. Paul Outside the Walls)

If you've been following along the last couple of days, you know what my hubby and I did on Day One and Day Two during our recent trip to Rome.  This brings us to Day Three of our unforgettable Roman Holiday (and by now, I was feeling quite Audrey Hepburn-esque about Rome--utterly charmed by the city, to put it mildly, and endlessly fascinated by everything I saw, heard, touched, smelled, or tasted).

(A quick aside: I just purchased an electronic copy of that 1961 classic--with the peerless Gregory Peck starring alongside Hepburn--on Amazon Prime and watched it yesterday.  The entire film was shot on location in Rome, and I got Romesick watching it, I can tell you!)

Anyway, back to reality--and moving on with the day-by-day blog scrapbook from our trip.

Friday, March 22

On Friday, the third day of our sojourn, my husband and I were picked up right at the door of our apartment at 9:15 a.m., by a charming and affable Italian tour guide named Sammy.  We hopped into his minivan, joining another English-speaking couple from the UK, and our first stop was a hill overlooking the city, where Sammy wanted to show us one of Rome's semi-secret treasures known as the Aventine Keyhole.

In a green doorway that once led to the Priory of the religious order called the Knights of Malta (the legendary crusader knights), there is a keyhole that by some amazing coincidence or ingenious design, I don't know which, lines up perfectly with the Vatican in the distance.

Sammy helping my husband get his iPhone set up to get a good picture.

Taken with my iPhone, this is the view through the Aventine Keyhole!

Sammy noted that the Vatican's courtyard has a keyhole shape as well (illustrated clearly in this Internet photo I found).

It can't be a coincidence!  The Knights of Malta must have searched for just the right spot on that hill to put a door, with a perfectly aligned keyhole to peep through.

Next, we rode out toward the countryside where the catacombs are located (more than 60 of them in all, made up of hundreds of kilometers of underground passageways).  Along the way, we passed by the ancient brick and stone walls that used to enclose and fortify the entire city of Rome.

Sammy dropped us off at the entrance to the Catacombe San Callisto, home of an iconic marble statue that is a likeness of martyr St. Cecelia as she looked lying slain on the ground.  We had a different tour guide who walked us through this incredible three-story labyrinth of ancient Christian burial sites.

Taking pictures was not allowed underground, understandably; so afterward, my husband and I bought some frameable photos of St. Cecelia and an informational pamphlet about the catacombs at the on-site souvenir shop.

There are very few bones left in the catacombs, and the marble or stone covers for the tombs were long ago stolen by vandals to use in other building projects around Rome over the centuries.  But even though the tombs are empty, one can't help but be ineffably moved seeing all those spaces dug out in the earthen walls, from floor to ceiling (many of them tiny, because 40% of the 500,000 souls who were once buried in just this catacomb alone were babies or children).

We met up with Sammy again after the catacomb tour, and he had us take a little walk along the Appian Way.  Built in 312 BC and spanning 350 miles, this road was Europe's first superhighway.  The Via Appia stretched from the Roman Forum all the way to Jerusalem (or actually to Brindisi, which is as far as you can go before hitting water), back when the Roman Empire encompassed most of Europe and "all roads led to Rome."

After a short stroll on this ancient yet incredibly well-preserved road, we got back in the van and headed toward San Paolo Fuori Le Mura (St. Paul Outside the Walls), one of the four Papal basilicas of Rome.

Oh.  My. Goodness.  Gracious!

How does one describe such a majestically beautiful place?  There are no words.

But here are some pictures that I hope will speak thousands and thousands of them for me.

It's killing me that in spite of how lovely these photos are, they really don't quite tell the story well enough. Standing in this magnificent church, surrounded by its resplendent beauty, utterly took my breath away, and just gazing upon all the ornate embellishments and gorgeous artwork covering every single square inch of space made me feel closer to Heaven.  I imagine the hundreds of painters, craftsmen, sculptors, woodworkers, metalworkers, etc. high up on scaffolding, who worked countless hours to create all of this for one reason: to showcases the glory of God. It's almost too much to bear.  More than once during our week in Rome, my eyes pricked with tears as soon as I entered one of the many churches we visited.  They are all indescribably beautiful--even the most modest among them.

After touring St. Paul Outside Walls, we said good-bye to Sammy and spent some more time walking around Aventine Hill and enjoying panoramic views of the city.

Here we are, doing our best Hepburn and Peck impressions on Day Three of our very own Roman Holiday.

This photo was taken on Aventine Hill.

In our travels around the hilltop we found a smaller church called Santa Maria in Aracelli, and we stopped in to have a look around.

Of course, I knew St. Paul Outside the Walls was going to be a show-stopper, as it's one of the "big four" churches in Rome; but this lesser-known church where we decided to say our daily Rosary was also simply breathtaking.

I guess the saying goes that when you're in Rome, you must never forget to

look up!  So true; the ceilings in these churches are spectacular..

After all of our sightseeing, we finally stopped at an outdoor pizzeria close to the Pantheon (and our apartment) for an early dinner, and I ordered pizza Margherita.

This was as delicious as it looks.  Maybe even more so.

After dinner, my husband really wanted to take me to the rooftop restaurant of a hotel he'd been to before with flight crews during layovers.  He said that the view of the city from up there was fantastic and he wanted to be there with me at sunset.  We sat an outdoor table, where we ordered a few hors d'oeuvres and drinks and waited for the sun to go down.  Oh my, it was just extraordinarily lovely, as you can see.

The dome of St. Peter's.

The perfect end to a perfect day, right?

Well, we weren't done yet!  We decided to take the subway over to the Colosseum, just to see it lit up at night.

 Then we rode over to the Vatican to see it lit up as well.

And finally, we made our weary way back to our little apartment.  It had been an exhausting day, and I moaned out loud on the long walk home without even realizing I was doing it.  I believe this was the most tired I was all week, as we walked--limped!--along beside the Tiber River that night.  I was really happy to finally get back to our little apartment and rest my feet!  (But I vowed that no matter how worn-out I felt, for the rest of our time in the Eternal City there would be no moaning!  Would screen darling Audrey Hepburn moan?  No, she would not!)  We had lots of laughs about this episode.  And my travel buddy, who thinks he's just so funny, gave me a new nickname: "Mona."

Day Three was a jam-packed day, to be sure, one for the record books.  One that I will never forget.

(Congratulations, dear readers, if you made it through this post--with its 34 pictures!  Phew!   I'm going to take a little break, and I'll be back with the Day Four installment after Easter. In the upcoming days I might post some pictures taken in Rome, of religious works of art that would be apropos for Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday; but  I'll wait to continue the series until Monday.)

Dio ti benedica!