First off, ten points to anyone who correctly identifies the artist and song from which I’ve stolen the title of this entry.
Secondly, today was a day during which our group divided into two parts and had plenty of free time, so what I’m writing about is what I did during the day– which may or may not be what our students did, exactly. But the broad strokes should be there.
Our group was much more chatty at breakfast this morning, which I take as a sign that the jet lag has worn off, but the exhaustion hasn’t yet set in. (This means we’re in the traveling sweet spot right now. Let’s hope it lasts.) We left the hotel at nine this morning, and headed back down into the city to pick up our tour guide and let one group off the bus for their own excursion. The first main event for today was an extra excursion to the early Christian catacombs just outside the original city wall, and not everyone wanted to go– the quarters are tight, and not everyone feels comfortable being underground in the context of human burials, so we certainly didn’t want to force people to go if they would be unhappy. So a small group left the bus as we picked up today’s guide, Ana.
(You’d have to ask Ms. Husband precisely what that group did until lunch, because I’m afraid I don’t know yet! I believe it involved a fair bit of shopping and a trip to McDonald’s, and probably a lot of other stuff, too.)
After picking up Ana, we took a brief driving tour of Rome, passing by the Palatine Hill, Circus Maximus (where the chariot racing took place– think Ben Hur), and the public baths. We wound up along the Appian Way, the “queen of roads” in Rome, and got off the bus at the site of a small church located on top of one of Rome’s many networks of catacombs.
Rome has an incredibly extensive network of catacombs– if they were stretched out in a single tunnel, they would reach from Rome to Florence. But they developed as a result of traditional pre-Christian Roman beliefs regarding the sanctity of the dead, as well as old Roman laws regarding the proscribed locations for the disposal of the dead. Out of concern for public health, burials (and cremations) were not allowed inside of Rome’s old city walls, so the dead were either buried or cremated outside of the city proper. Also, Roman law and tradition forbade moving or otherwise desecrating a body after death, which meant that once someone had been buried in a place, that land could no longer be used for anything else– ever. And because land was at a premium (and because of some lucky geological features which I’ll describe in a moment), it made sense to dig down into the rock below and excavate out tunnels, chambers, and small tombs, rather than to simply dig a grave.
The catacombs we visited were established prior to 313 CE, which means that Christianity was still an illegal practice in the Roman empire. Thus, while the graves belonged to early Christians, the symbols used on their grave markers and in the decorated tombs were largely coded to indicate their faith. So instead of the crucifix, you’ll see an icthys– a fish– or the symbols for Alpha and Omega.
Initially, our tour guide took us down into a small underground church build on top of the graves of two early Christian martyrs, and explained the history of the church and early Christianity. She stressed that while movies and books may like to represent the catacombs as a place where Christians hid due to persecution, this was not the case– the catacombs were a place of burial only, not worship or refuge. After giving us a basic overview, she led us down into the catacombs themselves.
I know I’ve written about history and cemeteries on this blog before, so I won’t rehash old ground. But I did really love seeing the catacombs, because I think there’s something deeply empathetic that can happen when you consider the very basic realties and griefs of people who have been gone for centuries upon centuries. It’s tempting to think of the past as some strange alternate world, full of fictional characters who are interesting to think about, but who weren’t really people. But when you walk through a place meant to be an eternal monument to personal loss and– depending on the faith of individual– ultimate peace and redemption, it becomes much, much easier to imagine that world honestly, with all the normal pains and flaws and joys of human existence.
That’s a bit much, yeah? But. Like I said: there’s something about history and cemeteries for me. I know that’s not true for everyone, though, so take it with a grain of salt.
At any rate, our tour guide took us through about 10% of the catacombs– that’s all that’s open to the public, here– showing us the pick and chisle marks in the stone where workers carved away at the rock. Much of Rome sits on a bedrock of compressed volcanic ash known as tuffa, and the stone is therefore porous and easy to carve away. In fact, our guide told us that generally a new burial niche in the side of a tunnel could be carved away in less than two hours– which was good, because that’s about how long an oil lamp could burn. We also were able to see an original fresco– more than seventeen hundred years old, which blows my mind– which decorated the burial arch of a wealthy individual.
After our tour of the catacombs, Ana took us over to see the Basillica of Saint Paul. (For those keeping score, this would be Basillica Number Two, after yesterday’s trip to Saint Peter’s Basillica in Vatican City.) The Basillica of Saint Paul is also administered by the Vatican, although it isn’t officially within the boundaries of the Holy See, and was built over the remains of Saint Paul, one of the most influential figures in early Christianity.
Ana explained to us that much of the current Basillica is a 19th century reconstruction, as the building caught fire during an attempt to restore part of the ceiling. Luckily, however, firefighters were able to use water from the nearby Tiber River to prevent the fire from spreading to the tomb of St. Paul, the aspe, and a magnificent golden mosaic which decorates the half-dome over the altar.
Again, we were lucky enough to enter through the Holy Door, which is only open every twenty-five years. Entering through the Holy Door– both at Saint Paul’s and Saint Peter’s Basillicas– grants one plenary indulgence, according to Catholic belief. Ana expressed to the kids the importance of this act, and I think many of them found it a moving idea, regardless of their personal beliefs.
After entering the Basillica proper, we could immediately hear the gorgeous sounds of a choir singing during Mass. We were therefore very, very quiet and stood in the back of the Basillica to listen while Ana told us about the church via our Whispers (those one-way radios I mentioned yesterday). The kids were absolutely awesome, by the way– and have been every time we’ve entered any religious site. They’ve been wonderfully respectful and open, and I couldn’t be prouder of them.
St. Paul’s feels more open and airy than St. Peter’s, but much of that has to do with the size of the crowds at the Vatican. One thing I absolutely loved about St. Paul’s were the windows; instead of stained glass, the windows are made of thin slices of alabaster, a semi-translucent stone. That, in combination with the austerity of the pillars, the golden glow of the early Byzantine-style mosaic, and the unearthly singing of the choir, made St. Paul’s an incredibly moving place to visit. Our kids had a chance to visit the tomb of St. Paul, and several made observances.
(And– hey, Mom. If you’re reading this, please tell Mrs. Milby that I lit a candle for her at St. Paul’s. I wasn’t able to at St. Peter’s, so I hope that begins to make amends for that lapse.)
Once we finished our tour of the Basillica, Ana brough us back to the city center via our bus, where we met up with the earlier group. We gave the kids an hour and a half to eat lunch on their own, and then reconvened before walking over to some of the more popular streets for shopping in Rome. We then turned the kids loose with instructions to meet us again in about two hours, had dinner, and came back to the hotel.
And– sorry for the abrupt ending, guys, but we have a very early wake-up call tomorrow, and I need to get to bed. I’ll finish writing up today’s adventures while we’re on the bus to Sorrento tomorrow!
A History of Adventure 