Day 2 - In the Crypt and the Necropolis / Scavi

We found ourselves down in the crypt under the Basilica of St. Peter's... 'we' meaning the 20 priests that I am on Sabbatical with.  We were honoured to be given the altar nearest the tomb of St. Peter and we concelebrated the Mass together early Tuesday morning.  Here in this picture you can see all the priests... but we are actually standing in front of the tomb of St. Peter.  Good thing, cameras are not allowed to take pictures in the crypt.

If you can make out the Latin behind us it reads: Sepulcrum Sancti Petri Apostoli - The Tomb or Sepulchre of St. Peter, Apostle.  I'm on the right with my head framed by a square granite plaque.

Due to the fact that we are not supposed to use our cameras, this is the only pic I have (apart from the ones I posted yesterday... oops! sorry.  Well, those pictures from yesterday are special, then.

In the afternoon we had a rather remarkable tour of the Scavi.  It is hard to describe.  No cameras allowed, again, so no pictures.  Imagine going down into the dark, dank basement of the oldest house you can find.  The air is close, the atmosphere is constraining and uncomfortable.  It is dimly lit and you know that it is actually a graveyard from previous generations.  Yes, there are people buried in the cellar walls and you are going down there because you want to understand the history of the place and you have heard it on good authority that someone incredibly important is buried there.

During and after WWII archaeologists uncovered an old Roman necropolis (literally 'city of death') where upper middle class Romans entombed their loved ones.  This graveyard isn't like a typical Canadian cemetery.  There was a main 'street' and on either side of the street there were 'burial rooms' for lack of a better description.  I saw these homes, each with a legal description of ownership over the doorway, with a central room with niches in the wall for the cremated remains of family members.

These archaeologists obtained permission from Pius XII to continue working their way along this road, unearthing these rooms that had been packed with earth by Constantine in 313-314 AD in order to make a solid foundation for the first St. Peter's.  Why would he build on a sacred Roman cemetery? There were laws against that, like there are today.  Why would the Emperor risk the wrath of the populous by declaring that he was going to build a Church there for the hated Christians? He gave everybody a year to claim the remains of their relatives from the niches in their burial rooms, and then filled them all in with earth.

The archaeologists painstakingly dug all of these rooms out by hand... moving every closer to the spot that would be right under the present altar of St. Peter's and finding increasingly Christian inscriptions as they progressed.  Pius XII didn't want them to dig too close to the area under the altar... but even as they tried to go around, they discovered a marble wall, a massive marble box really, set around the site directly under the altar by Constantine in 313 AD.  On the far side of the marble box they discovered an opening, and another wall inside, from the earliest century, being preserved by the marble casing set there by Constantine in 313 AD... a red wall with pillars sheltering an inner tomb with bones dating to the first century AD.  Who's bones would be so carefully preserved?

Several inscriptions on the tombs nearby indicated that later Christians were buried there in an attempt to be as close to St. Peter's burial site as possible.  The bones inside had one remarkable feature: There were no ankle bones or feet.  Because St. Peter was crucified upside down, and he was crucified in the three days in which Nero killed Christians (especially the leaders) as scapegoats for the burning of Rome, the disciples who were eager to honour the great Apostle in the midst of a horrendous persecution, had to act with great haste (the dead Christians would be otherwise discarded into a lime pit or subject to mass cremation) and so, not being able to unfasten the nail which had been driven into his feet they cut his body off at the ankles.  This has always been the understanding and tradition of the Church.  The fact that this skeleton had no ankle or foot bones was confirmation of the oral tradition.  The stresses on the feet and ankles of a body being crucified upside down would have been tremendous.  In any case, the bones in the tomb that had been honoured with protective walls, and porches and marbles shrouds are Peter's... and they rest directly below the altar of St. Peter's Basilica... and I stood there on Tuesday in that dark, underground excavation site and saw the bones that are still there.  On the opposite side of the excavation site but still opening onto the Tomb of St. Peter is the well lit crypt (pictured above) where we said Mass.

Lots of words today and not many pictures... but I wanted to share my discoveries in the Scavi, the necropolis and the Confessio.  If you want more detail on the archaeological evidence and the Church's confirmation that the foremost Basilica of Christendom rests over the burial site of St. Peter himself, you can read more about it on Wikipedia here.

1st Sunday in Lent

You might not expect much from me today since it is Sunday, the First Sunday in Lent.  The fast which began on Ash Wednesday is lifted for Sundays since Sunday remains a celebration of our Lord's resurrection...  and we understand that the season of Lent as a whole is directed toward the Paschal mystery - the Death, Burial and Resurrection - of our Lord.  So, today is, and has been, a great day.  A great day to be alive, to be in Rome and to be free to celebrate Mass on the First Sunday in Lent.  Now that is a first class Feast!

I set my alarm for 0500 but it didn't go off... so the truth is that I only thought I set it.  I woke up at 0600 only to realize that I couldn't make the long pilgrimage to today's Station Church, St John Lateran which is outside the walls of ancient Rome. I think that the pilgrimage eventually goes back there toward the end of Lent, so I will have another chance to do that, perhaps.  The 1.25 hr walk there, and then back would have been a challenge for me today... so I am content that it didn't work out.

More than merely content.  I decided to walk over to St Peter's Basilica, nearby, and present myself at the Sacristy before 0700 in hopes of celebrating Mass in the very center of Catholicism.

I had been in St Peter's Square (which isn't square as you can see) to see the Pope on Ash Wednesday, and to buy postcards and mail one from the Vatican post office, but I hadn't been inside yet.  I bumped into a fellow priest on Sabbatical with me, then another and another... we all had the same idea.

The vestry is for priests only, of course, but there are people waiting outside the vestry for priests to come out so that they can follow them to the altar and attend Mass.  This is inside the corridor leading to the Sacristy... so you can imagine how big the Sacristy is.

Fr James in front of entrance to Sacristy at St Peter's Basilica

I didn't take any pictures inside where we vest, but everything is ready for you, including a sacristan and / or Altar boy to assist you with your vestments and with Mass.  I vested and was led out with Chalice, Paten, purificator, pall, burse and veil by a sacristan who was carrying the water, wine, lavobo bowl and towel to one of the many altars at St Peter's.  The sacristan asked me in broken English if there was an altar that I preferred to go to.  It being my first time inside St Peters it was overwhelming enough, so I had no idea which altar to choose, or that I would even have a choice.  So, in an act of kind providence, he led me to the altar in honour of St. Thomas, affectionately known as Doubting Thomas.

This is where I said Mass this morning:

Fr James by the altar of St Thomas

Another priest, who was not celebrating the Mass at 0700 was waiting for me outside the sacristy and followed me to this altar in order to assist, which was very kind of him.  When I looked up and saw that I would be celebrating Mass under this large painting depicting the moment when Thomas exclaimed, 'My Lord and my God!' I was deeply moved.  Oh that I might have some portion of the faith of this great Apostle who upon his conversion and commission from Christ took the gospel to India and established the Church there.  Like him, I believe in One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church!

I can't say much more about the Mass at this point.  I know that there were well-worn grooves in the floor at the foot of the altar where, who knows, probably tens of thousands of priests have offered the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass before me.  I know that I chanted the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei in Latin:

"Holy Holy Holy, Lord God of Hosts, 

heaven and earth are full of your glory; 

Hosanna in the highest.  

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; 

Hosanna in the highest." 

*******

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us;

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us;

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, grant us peace;

I spent the next hour as a tourist in a cassock - the long flowing black robe that priests wear.  I took a few pictures that may interest you.  I could have taken 100 pics and not conveyed 1/10th of what I saw... and I only skimmed the surface.

St Michael the Archangel

Soldiers, especially those who deployed with me in Kandahar Afghanistan, have a particular devotion or at least a dependent connection to St Michael the Archangel.  We asked for his assistance on a regular basis as convoys and foot patrols went 'outside the wire'.

St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle;

be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.

May God rebuke him, we humbly pray:

and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, 

cast into hell Satan and all the wicked spirits, 

who roam through the world, seeking the ruin of souls.

The High Altar at St. Peter's Basilica

I know you can get better quality pictures than this just by searching images on the internet... but I took this one.  I was there this morning.  Although I didn't get to go down into the crypt (Cardinal Arinze processed by in front of us with a group heading down to the crypt and no one was allowed down for about 30 min or so) I knew that I was standing with the great Apostles Peter and Paul, Martyrs.  I will go down into the crypt another day.

I prayed the Morning Office (mostly Psalms, readings and intercessions) with Fr James in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel... no pic.  It was quiet and reverential... still, before the multitude of sight-seers entered the sacred space.

Baldachino over the main altar in St Peter's

I snapped this picture of the massively beautiful baldachino / canopy with columns by Bernini just before we left.  In the sacrament of the altar there is a union of Christ and his bride, the Church... 'a mystic, sweet communion' with our Lord, an embrace of love.  He comes to us as manna from heaven at the bidding of the priest and, closely united to him in his sacrifice, we offer ourselves back to him in love.  In this way, he abides in us and we in him.  This four-poster is 96 feet tall and uses over 100,000 lbs of bronze!

Ah, Michelangelo's Pieta, just inside the main door to the right.  The Mother of Christ holding him as he is brought down from the cross.  Tenderness and strong faith, quietness in the face of anguish!  I am not the one to try to describe this unspeakable work of art.  Words fail... they are indelicate and clumsy. The Pieta had to be put behind some kind of protective bulletproof glass because someone rushed it with a hammer in 1972 and damaged Mary's nose and broke off her arm at the elbow.  It is magnificent even at a distance and under the effects of glass.  Any pic that I would have taken would not have done it justice:

***********

I left St Peter's just in time to make the 20 min walk down to Santissima Trinita dei Pellegrini, the Church I mentioned in Friday's post which celebrates the Traditional Latin Mass.  

Today was a solemn, high Mass with a priest, deacon and subdeacon, plenty of incense and a beautiful schola or choir perched up in the back of the Church in a loft.  They led the congregation in the sung responses, and of course with Gregorian chant and sacred polyphony.  It was heavenly in the true sense of that expression.  I did my best to follow along in the Latin Daily Missal, but eventually I just left the book to one side mostly and drank in the worship experience and offered my thanks to God.  

I introduced myself to the priests after Mass and they invited me to come back, sit in the sanctuary with the other priests and even to take lessons from one of them (with others) on how to celebrate this ancient rite.  They were very welcoming... and I will definitely be back to take them up on their offer.

I did all of this before noon... and now I'm finished sharing it with you.  The rest of the day is for reading.  I was given a book by Carolyn called 'The Geometry of Love', though she won't remember giving it to me.  I read it some time ago when I first got it, and jsut before I left to come to Rome I remembered that it was an in depth analysis of a church in Rome, St Agnes outside the Wall, and so I brought it with me.  The subtitle is: Space, Time, Mystery and Meaning in an Ordinary Church.  So, I am reading it again... and I hope to visit the Church while I'm  here: its about a 50 min bus ride north of the old city.

Feast for the eyes - while fasting.

It being Lent and all... I spend less time sitting at the table in the College refectory filling my mouth with meat and more time daydreaming out the window (like I did in 4th Grade).  Whereas my wandering eyes at the tender age of 8 resulted in me spending long stretches of time standing alone in the school's hallway, this week the consequences of looking out the refectory window is much more gratifying and much more to my liking.

Here is the view I have every day during Cena (supper):

Taken from the Refectory window @ PNAC

I told you the names of meals are different.  Pranzo (lunch) is taken at the Seminary refectory and, if one cares to climb 6 flights of stairs (as I did), you get a similar view from the rooftop terrace.

Taken from the terrace of PNAC Seminary

So, yes, I am living that close to St Peter's, just outside the walls of Vatican City.  Truth is that I skipped Pranzo today, not because I am fasting from lunch but because I get distracted and miss the meal timings.  Instead of eating, I went on an adventure.

Yesterday I bought a birretta, a zucchetto, and a clergy shirt from Barbiconi's.  For those of you who don't know what the first two items are, they are headdress for priests (in black of course).  Stand by for a pic.  Meanwhile, when I was there yesterday I tried on the shirt because normally I can't get shirts that fit my longer-than-normal, knuckle-scraping gorilla arms.  Wonder of wonders! the arm length was great... so without doing up the collar, I bought it.  Now, its not entirely my fault that I didn't test the neck size.  The saleslady measured me and declared me a 44.  I don't know metric neck sizes.  I said I was a 17.5" - 18" neck.  "Quarantaquattro," she exclaimed, holding up four digits twice.  I suggested that maybe a 45 would be better because I don't like the collar too tight.  "Forty-five,' I gestured with my fingers, making that waffling motion with my hand that means 'maybe?'  She looked at me with disdain for implying that her measurement was wrong and her assessment of my neck size was somehow flawed.  I took the 44... happy that the sleeves fit.

At zero-dark-thirty this morning when I tried to do up the collar in hopes of wearing it under my cassock, it was impossible.  An utter failure.  So, undaunted, I put on one of my old less-than-black faded tab-style shirts and decided to return/exchange the new one.  The problem was that yesterday I was with two other priests who knew their way around the tangled web of backstreets that is Rome.  No problem, said I to myself, I'm a military priest... I can use my superior sense of direction and retrace our steps from yesterday.  Nope.  I knew I was lost when I had completed several loops of the area in which I thought I would find the shop, only to realize that the loops were indeed quasi-circular and I was lost.  Of course, I never asked for directions.

Oh yes... the birretta and zucchetto:

Clockwise: Bag with address, shirt in question, folded birretta, zucchetto

Basically, I only realized after getting home that I had the address to Barbiconi's with me, on the bag, the whole time.  The birretta, which folds, is square for a round head and the tassel (read: pom-pom) is still tied up.  The zucchetto is round for a square head... mine.

Oh BTW, I picked up 5 postcards at the Vatican mail office.  Do you want one?  I was shocked when I stepped up to the wicket and the guy told me that the Vatican stamps were 2 euros each!

Off to the Station Church of Ss John and Paul tomorrow; San Giovanni et San Paulo - pray for us.

Ash Wednesday

I've never started Lent quite like this.  Up at 0530 and on the bus for 0615... from here on in I will try to walk as a pilgrim, but PNAC provided a bus so that everyone could attend Mass this morning at the first Station Church, St Sabina.  This morning, before the sun was up, we were winding our way down to St. Sabina to begin the 'Itinerary of Conversion'.   There were over 300 priests and seminarians along with all the faithful who wished to hear Mass in English and receive the mark of Ashes in hope of making a good Lent in preparation for celebrating the Paschal mystery, Triduum and Easter.

This Basilica is larger than you might imagine.  I entered in silence, vested in alb and purple stole along with about 100 priests, and sat in the 'choir' on the wooden benches, which you can just see a hint of in the center of the photo below.  The altar in the background is built over the tomb of the martyrs who died here in the first years of the Faith.

Sometime early in the 4th century Christians in Rome started a pilgrimage during Lent, led by the Pope, which went from church to church in the city to celebrate Mass where the Martyrs were buried. Visiting the tombs of the martyrs, praying and celebrating the Lord's Supper was an ancient practice of the early church and it is why, eventually, church buildings sprang up on those sacred sites.

The Basilica of St. Sabina was built between 422 and 441 AD, rose up as a sign of hope out of the ruins of the invasion of the Visigoths on Aventine Hill.  The columns that you see date to that time.

Again, you can just see a few of the wooden benches of the choir where I sat this morning.

"Remember that you are dust," said the priest to me this morning in that ancient site made holy by the martyrdom and prayers of one thousand six hundred years and more, "and to dust you shall return."

It made my fleeting life seem like a mere moment in time.

"Thou turnest man back to the dust, and sayest, "Turn back, O children of men!"
For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night.
Thou dost sweep men away; they are like a dream, like grass which is renewed in the morning:
in the morning it flourishes and is renewed; in the evening it fades and withers.
For we are consumed by thy anger; by thy wrath we are overwhelmed.
Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance."

The Pilgrimage has begun... pray for me.

________________________

At about 0930 I heard the voice of the Pope being projected over the loud speakers in St Peter's which is not far from where I am staying.  I turned on my heel and made for the sound of his voice... which seemed like it would be relatively easy.  Not so.   I won't try to describe the convoluted way which eventually led me into the large open space in front of St. Peter's, but I did find my way there.  I passed through security and came up to the back of the crowd of about 30,000 people - a sea of humanity.  The crowd off to my right was cheering and all eyes were turned in that direction.  I discovered that the Pope was coming through the crowd in his little car and, consistent with his style, came to the back of the crowd just as I walked up.  I stood within 15 feet of the holy Father and followed the car across the back of the crowd and stopped when he stopped to greet the crippled, the children, and others.  

All this, and its still not even lunch time.  I have my class in Moral Theology in 10 min...