Upon This Rock

There are 600 churches in Rome. That means if you visited ten churches a day, it would take you two months, without any breaks, to see them all. We have been averaging about 3-4 per day, selected from the "most important" (like the four Papal Basilicas) to the ones that happen to be right next to us (like the "Chiesa Nuova" which contains the body of St. Philip Neri, whom we visited yesterday).  We have been on a haphazard pilgrimage of sorts, in the steps of Peter and Paul, searching for various relics, like the chain that St. Peter had around his leg when he was in prison, which is on the altar at the church of San Pietro in Vincola (St. Peter in chains). This church also contains Michelangelo's statue of Moses, sculpted for the tomb of Julius II, the "Warrior Pope." It was incredibly crowded with groups of tourists, most of whom were ignoring St. Peter's chain and just looking at the Moses statue, snapping selfies and talking in loud voices. We had seen so many lovely paintings of the angel gently guiding St. Peter out of prison that we were more excited to see the chain.

St Peter's chain

We also saw a piece of Baby Jesus' crib in Santa Maria Maggiore, one of the four Papal Basilicas, with a giant (and I mean giant) sculpture of Pope Pius IX kneeling before it with a sweet smile on his face. This was a fun relic to see just before Christmas. Lots of Popes are buried in the Papal Basilicas, often competing with each other to see whose tomb or family chapel could be the most magnificent. For example, in Santa Maria Maggiore, we have the tomb of Pope Paul V, whose nephew, Cardinal Borghese, was one of the great patrons of the arts and collected as many Caravaggio paintings and Bernini sculptures as he could. Across from that is Pope Sixus' funeral chapel, equally gaudy and fancy. The gilded ceiling of this basilica was made from the first gold stolen from the New World by Columbus, presented to the Pope by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella.

Gold Ceiling 

And of course, I had to see Bernini's statue of St. Theresa in Mystic Ecstasy - Bernini and I both think this is his best work, and I admit I did at one point think of becoming a Carmelite nun so that I could "have what she's having" as my friend Steve put it, when commenting on my Instagram photo of the sculpture.

"I'll have what she's having"

Finally, at the end of the day yesterday, we had one more church to see: Santa Pudenziana, a very old church just off the busy Via Cavour, built on the ruins of the house of a senator named Pudens, a Christian convert said to have given hospitality to St. Peter himself.  Our goal: a piece of a wooden altar table at which St. Peter is alleged to have celebrated Mass. There is also an apse mosaic from the fourth century that is very lovely, but we have seen so many mosaics at this point (including the amazing ones in Venice at St. Mark's and eight Unesco World Heritage Churches in Ravenna) so we were kind of "churched out," as Matt said.

We approached the simple ancient facade of Santa Pudenziana down some steps, with beautiful round mosaic floor, in the twilight. The door was open, but no lights were on in the main part of the church. One man sat in the back, in silent contemplation. We walked around the darkened space, looking for Peter's table. Suddenly, we heard laughing and giggling coming from behind one of the side chapels. We wandered outside to the adjacent stone building - lights came from behind the door and we peeked through. There was a locked gate to some underground vault (probably where the table was), and then another door, where we heard children's voices, laughing, and the sound of a bouncing basketball. Behind us, another door led to a small chapel - we heard the gentle notes of a guitar playing an Advent song while a few voices joined in singing, softly and sweetly, in Tagalog.

Back in the courtyard, still no table, we heard more laughter from the other side. A woman hurried out and gave us a smile. She was carrying bags of food for the homeless. I asked about the table and she said to talk to the sister inside, who was teaching a class for refugees.  "I'm gonna knock on that door," I said determinedly, "and ask where they are hiding St. Peter's altar." I cracked the door open and there was a motley group of adults, gathered around a nun at a table. They had open workbooks and were laughing as they studied either English or Italian. "Excuse me," I asked the twinkly-eyed sister, "but I'm looking for the relic of the table where St. Peter celebrated Mass."

They all grinned at me. In the other room, a priest was talking loudly on the telephone, listening to someone's sorrows, telling them to come to Mass tomorrow, and then they'd get some coffee afterwards.  "Ah," said the sister, "I've never seen such a table, but I've heard about it.  I think it's in the part of the church that's being remodeled.  And you know, in Italy, when they tell you something is being remodeled, you have to wait for an eternity." The rest of the group broke into uproarious laughter. I joined in, then thanked them and went out.

Matthew by the stairs of Santa Pudenziana

Night had fallen, and the feeling of peace and joy was palpable, as the members of the Body of Christ went about their Saturday night routines. We never saw St. Peter's table, but we saw him more clearly in that church than in all the other grand Baroque basilicas put together. All the marble and gold and statues of Popes and paintings of saints in mystic ecstasy and relics...the entire grandeur of those churches put together could not equal the weight in heaven of a single guitar string, one page in an immigrant's notebook, a plastic bag of groceries, a child's basketball, in Santa Pudenziana, tucked away beside a busy street in Rome, her members just going about their daily activities. It was more than a fitting monument to Peter, who was there and is there, the rock upon which Christ built His True Church.