Rome Days Two and Three

Yesterday (Saturday) was pretty chilly, cloudy, and off-and-on rainy. Kind of miserable, actually. But that didn't stop your intrepid explorer of early Christian life. Where better than to discover life and in a cemetery? Yes, I finally made it to a couple of catacombs: Priscilla and St. Callistus. They are on opposite sides of the city, so it meant some fancy connections on the subway and bus system. Successfully done.

The Catacombs of Priscilla are on the Via Salaria, somewhat northeast of the historical center of Rome; in ancient times outside the walls, but now very much in the city. They are now part of a Benedictine convent, and tours are offered under their auspices. No photos, but there is a brief photo tour at their website, and a search for images on Google will produce a lot more.

Priscilla is not the name of a saint, but was probably the wealthy Christian landowner on whose property these catacombs were dug. Catacombs were burial places, not secret hiding places. The rich and powerful pagans often had their tombs above ground -- marble monuments and such. But it was lot cheaper to dig tombs underground, and the volcanic tuff rock is easily carved out and provided the ideal medium.

While most of the catacomb walls are lined with simple tombs (loculae, Latin for "little places"), some more elaborate areas boast the earliest know Christian art, usually in the form of frescoes, i.e., painting on plaster. There are many images of Christ as Good Shepherd, and he is usually depicted as a youth without a beard in Roman garb, a far cry from the sentimentalized images we are familiar with.

In the afternoon, I took the bus to the other side of the city, to the Appian Way and the Catacombs of St. Callistus, one of the most developed catacombs as a tourist attraction. Its artwork seemed a bit more "restored" (or "touched up") than Priscilla's, but I don't know if that's the case or not.

The early Christian artwork in the catacombs tell us a lot about their life, death, and faith. One interesting note: the size of the tombs reveals the size of the people. Men were just over 5-feet tall and women just under. Thus Romans and Greeks were actually quite a bit smaller than the people of today, and I've heard that the "barbarians" of northern and eastern Europe (especially the Huns) were fearsome because they were taller.

Yesterday evening, after a bit of rest and a panino (sandwich), I took the 64 bus to a stop just south of the Pantheon, and nostalgically wandered around. I had forgotten just how massive the Pantheon is. I finished my wandering at the Piazza Navona, and enjoyed a tartufo -- as good as ever, and only 5-euros to go.

Today, I slept in a little bit, and went to 8 AM Mass at the church around the corner from the hotel. I described the liturgy in an email to fellow members of the LA Archdiocesan Liturgical Commission as follows:

For better or worse, "went to Mass" seems the most accurate description of the experience: neither hot nor cold, neither wonderful nor awful. Small amount of singing was led by the lector/server/cantor. Priest seemed attentive and communicative, but routine. Sound system surprisingly effective in a reverberant space. Small assembly, mostly locals with a few obvious tourists, scattered around church. Locals sang well and enthusiastically with minimal leadership. Interesting that there was little uniformity about standing or kneeling during the Eucharistic Prayer and the Communion, even among the locals. Priest ate all the bread consecrated at the Mass (i.e., one small "large" host, broken in half) and drank all the consecrated wine. All Communion for the people was from the tabernacle; hosts small, thin, and white. Majority, even locals and elderly, received Communion in the hand. Priest seemed about my age, and seemed to reflect a lifetime of "saying Mass" rather than "presiding at the celebration of the liturgy,"

Ah well . . .

Then, after breakfast, I took the subway (Linea A) to St. Peter's, and got to the square just in time to see the Holy Father appear at his window for the noontime Angelus. He gave a ten-minute talk in Italian on World Mission Sunday, and greetings in a lot of languages, including English, before praying the Angelus. I think I got a pretty good video, with the zoom at maximum 10x -- haven't had time to review it. In some ways this is better than the Wednesday audience; not as long and much less hassle.

I took the 64 bus to Piazza Venezia and had a good meal at the Ristorante Abruzzi, and then wandered around the Casa Santa Maria, Gregorian University, Trevi Fountain and Piazza di Spagna before heading back to the hotel to rest a little and type up this report.

Now you're up to date. Tomorrow, the Vatican Museums, and Tuesday -- home.