La Torre di Pisa

Then [the people] said, "Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth." The Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which mortals had built. And the Lord said, "Look, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there, so that they will not understand one another's speech." So the Lord scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. - Genesis 11:4-8

There's something about the Leaning Tower of Pisa (or, as the locals simply call it, la torre) that has always drawn me. Somewhere in my mind, it has always made me think of the Tower of Babel, perhaps because of the way it mirrors that sense of human folly. It's also a major tourist destination, drawing people from all over, demonstrating how one tower can be surrounded by all the languages of the world

Construction started on the tower in 1173 and over the next nearly 200 years it started and stopped. It was supposed to be another jewel in the crown of Pisa, a powerful and artistic city of its time. However, before the tower was even finished it had already started to lean, due to an unstable foundation on one side. There have been many attempts to secure the tower and threats to balance it out, but the most recent effort simple stabilized it. After all, the tower's lean is what draws tourists. Today, it is assumed that the tower is safe for about another 300 years; to make sure, tourists are only allowed up the tower in controlled numbers at limited times.

The climb to the top of the tower isn't easy. While the angle isn't much, it's enough to make climbing a series of circular stairs difficult. Also, since the tower is almost 900 years old, the stairs have well-worn dents in them, making the slippery surface even more treacherous. The view from the top, however, is well worth it. Looking down on the piazza below, you almost feel like you're on top of the world - that is, until you see snow-capped mountains in the distance, and realize you've barely risen above the surface.

It seems ironic that a major engineering mistake has become a huge destination. I'd like to believe it's because people feel better when reminded that even the most amazing of human endeavors cannot be perfect. However, I think the place has simply become a destination in itself. Saying you've climbed the leaning tower gives a sense of worldly accomplishment - exactly the opposite of what this failed attempt at glory for the city actually symbolizes.

God of all creation, we know that perfection can be found only in you. You have made us very well, and in spite of our best attempts, we are not You. Draw us together under your name in spite of our differences, remind us each of our humble nature, and call us always to service and not selfishness. We pray these things in your name, Amen.

Basilica di San Clemente

That night the Lord said to him, "Take your father's bull, the second bull seven years old, and pull down the altar of Baal that belongs to your father, and cut down the sacred pole that is beside it; and build an altar to the Lord your God on the top of the stronghold here, in proper order; then take the second bull, and offer it as a burnt offering with the wood of the sacred pole that you shall cut down." So Gideon took ten of his servants, and did as the Lord had told him; but because he was too afraid of his family and the townspeople to do it by day, he did it by night. When the townspeople rose early in the morning, the altar of Baal was broken down, and the sacred pole beside it was cut down, and the second bull was offered on the altar that had been built. - Judges 6:25-28

One common feature of Roman architecture, especially churches, is a distinct layer effect. With a city thousands of years old, things inevitably get built on top of each other. When Christianity became the religion of the Roman Empire, some of it was deliberate. Many churches were converted temples or holy places sanctified to make the city Christian instead of pagan. However, in some cases it was partially incidental, coming from the usefulness or perceived general holiness of a site. San Clemente is just such a site, where centuries of history stack on top of each other and demonstrate the Roman tendency to try to replace its own past.

In the second and third centuries, this site was likely used as a Mithraic temple. In was enclosed within a sort of apartment complex and was probably a place of initiation. This was probably partly due to the very convenient spring active near the site. Today, this level comprises the lowest part of the structure and the sound of running water makes one practically feel in a waterfall. However, adjacent to the site was the home of a Roman who converted to Christianity in the first century and allowed his home to be used for worship before Christianity was made legal. As Christianity gained acceptance, the Mithraic temple fell out of use and a church was built over the site. At the end of the 11th century, the church was mostly destroyed in the Norman sack of the city.

A new basilica was built on the site, and it wasn't until the late 19th century that the lower, ancient level of the church was even discovered. Inside, they found some of the most ancient frescoes to be found in the city of Rome. Even today, the Irish Dominicans who are entrusted with the church are trying to recover some of these frescoes.

Trips through the church are like a tour through time. The upper level is beautifully decorated, the lower level slowly emerging, and the bottom ancient level seeming almost primal with its dirt walls and sounds of rushing water. In this case, while the site itself was merely convenient, I am sure that the Christians of the time deliberately wanted to replace the remnants of pagan Rome and reclaim it for the Christian God. In this way, they were very similar to their ancient predecessors, trying to make their small and growing faith known and removing temptation to fall back into old ways. Regardless, it is good to have at least some foundation of the history of these sites so we can remember that Christian faith did not always have a safe place to be. We cannot appreciate who we are unless we know where we've been.

God our Father, you have guided us throughout the centuries. Keep us always in the true faith, steer us from temptation, grant us your mercy and strengthen our faith. When we are tempted to stray from you, send us your Holy Spirit to reignite our hearts and souls with the love of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Basilica di Santa Prassede

I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a deacon of the church at Cenchreae, so that you may welcome her in the Lord as is fitting for the saints, and help her in whatever she may require from you, for she has been a benefactor of many and of myself as well. - Romans 16:1-2

One of my favorite churches in Rome is the Basilica di S. Prassede, tucked off a side street less than a block away from one of my other favorite churches, Santa Maria Maggiore. I remember S. Prassede from my first visit to Rome, as it was one of the first churches we visited on our trip and I felt so disoriented and confused in the hot, crowded, noisy streets. This church practically hides from everything, and walking inside the cool, incense-scented church is like stepping outside of time.

Although it's much smaller than many other churches, the artistic beauty of the church is still rather impressive. Especially impressive is the mosaic work throughout the church. Dating from 822, they were thanks to the efforts of Pope Paschal, who spent much of his time building churches and transferring the bones of martyrs from the catacombs outside the city into churches within the city wall where they could be properly protected and revered.

Two of the martyrs now resting within this church are Saints Prassede and Pudenziana, who are daughters of St. Pudens; he is credited with being Paul's first Roman convert. According to tradition, the church is built over their house. The sisters were martyred for providing proper Christian burial and their continued baptism of pagans. There's some debate about their actual existence; however, their relics and memory are now housed within this church as a memorial to the service that many people, women included, provided selflessly to continue the faith.

What most people come to this church to see is the St. Zeno chapel in the church. First of all, it's completely covered in gorgeous gold mosaic and beautiful in its own right. However, some come more for the conspiracy of the chapel - portrayed on one wall, there are four women standing next to each other. The second and fourth women (from left-right) are the sisters Prassede and Pudenziana. Between them stands the Virgin Mary. Most interesting is the woman to the far left. First, note her square halo - this represents that she is a 'living saint'. (In the apse of the church, Pope Paschal is represented the same way.) To her left and top are the words "Theodora Episcopa": Bishop Theodora.

Since this church was built in the 9th century, many women argue that this represents a respected bishop of the time who was female, contrary to current church doctrine against ordaining women. Others mention that there is record of the wives of bishops and deacons being referred to with the feminine bishop moniker, much like a first lady. However, her extremely honorific position in this mosaic calls that cursory mention into question.

Admittedly, I spend a lot of time with the women of leadership in religious history to try and gain credibility for myself as a future leader of the church. Whether Saint Prassede, Bishop Theodora, or Paul's deacon Phoebe, I feel like I need to justify my call with women called to great service in the church's past. However, it is my hope that I ministry can be its own justification. Unfortunately, for others, this is a huge point of contention - after all, there are many women who are called to ministry whose denomination does not allow them to serve in ordained ministry. Regardless of the outcome of this debate, I hope and pray that God's mission will continue to be carried out in this world.

Merciful God, our church divisions and internal debates often leave us making decisions for ourselves in your name, regardless of your will. Search our hearts, guide us, and teach us always to hear your call and follow you honestly. Alongside your servants Prassede, Theodora and Phoebe, may we all find a way to serve you and our neighbor with all we have. We pray this in your holy name, Amen.

Trash People

On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. - 1 Corinthians 12:22-26

On our way to church today, we passed through Piazza del Popolo, one of the major squares here in Rome. Usually it is filled with musicians, families, tourists, joggers, and all sorts of people selling things. Today it was a very, very different sight. Row after row of military-style 'people' comprised of pop cans, car parts and computer components stared facelessly at us. It seemed we weren't the only people unsettled by the non-human gaze of these 1,000 bodies as the whole square was just a bit quieter than usual.

We hustled off to church, which was more disorganized than usual today. With the time change (two weeks later for us here in Europe) most people arrived late; most importantly, the baptismal party had not arrived at all. They showed up 45 minutes into the service, clearly having not set their clocks ahead last night. Nonetheless, the Assistant Curate handled everything with extreme grace and poise - and was even her first baptism.

Most interesting was her sermon. The lectionary texts for the day pointed us towards the story of Jesus' anointing, to Judas' protest. I thought immediately of the trash people standing in the Piazza when the reader recounted Judas' words about the poor being always with us. While I didn't know if the people were a comment on ecology or the way we treat humans, my ears were nonetheless perked. Our preacher bypassed the references to anointing (especially on a Sunday with a baptism) and headed straight to the way we treat some like trash. This was also due to today marking the 200th anniversary of the banning of the slave trade in England. Her words were profound. In a world where we treat people like trash, Jesus calls us to a love and service that surpasses what the world expects. When we are baptized into this community, we make a radical statement about the importance of all God's creation.

When we returned to the Piazza after church, we read the kiosk of the artist's intentions for the exhibit. While he seemed indeed to be calling our consumerist nature to account, I believe this doesn't simply apply to goods and resources. When we treat people like resources to be exploited, as if they somehow have less to offer, we deny their rightful place as children of God.

Our gracious Father, our selfishness and greed lead us into lives of manipulation, destruction and hatred. Bring light to our darkness, reveal our sin, and lead us into a life of harmony and grace in this world and in the world to come. May those especially who are treated like trash, those who are considered less worthy, know that they have a place in the Body of Christ, where they will be always loved and respected in your Son's name, Amen.

Acqua Alta - Venezia

Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, "As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth." - Genesis 9:8-11

One of the distinguishing marks of Venice is its canals. The city itself is built in a lagoon, and the land under the historical city is actually a series of 122 small islands connected by a series of bridges. The Grand Canal snakes through the center of the city, providing the central means of transport through Venice. On any of these canals, whether small or wide, you can see a series of gondolas, vaporettos (water taxis), or personal boats. Actual land-based roads are tiny, circuitous, and frequently dead-end.

Apparently, Venice was first built in this precarious place as more and more people fled mainland barbarian invasions. Eventually, the city came to embrace its aquatic status and became a major player on the world stage by virtue of its incredible maritime endeavors, staging huge battles and becoming a powerful shipping port. To this day, Venetians seem more comfortable on water than on land.

Unfortunately, humans and cities were not exactly built for the water. In the approximately 1,000 years of Venice, the city has slowly and resolutely sunk into the sea. Also, being at the mouth of a river and on unsteady land, it is very vulnerable to high tide. This rising water, particularly the fast and exceptionally high type, is referred to as the acqua alta which means simply 'high water'. At these times, sirens sound and low-lying areas (especially those around San Marco) are generally vacated.

This frequent flooding hasn't seemed to deter the Venetians, but it does demonstrate the irrefutable power of the sea. The ancient Hebrews saw the ocean as the site of true primordial chaos, and even co-oped the words for sea from other cultures to refer to beasts and demons. Water is uncontrollable by humans, no matter how many boats and bridges they build, and no matter how we try to overcome it we find ourselves drawn to and threatened by it.

Perhaps because of the frequent flooding of my own hometown, I have never been completely comfortable with water. Especially at this time of the year, when spring thaw forces even the tiniest stream into a raging, dangerous river, I find myself frustrated and threatened by the inexorable force of rising water. I can't imagine the faith of Noah, closing himself into his likely very rickety boat, praying that God would keep those promises made. Thank goodness for Noah - and Venice, and also my own home - God does indeed keep promises.

God of all creation, you have promised never to destroy us. You have committed yourself to us and to all the things you have made. Remind us always of your faithfulness as we seek to be faithful to you, even in the face of rising water and impending danger. We pray these things in the name of your Son, Amen.

Basilica di San Marco - Venezia

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. - Mark 1:1

Mark's gospel is generally considered to be the earliest one written. It has a notably terse, swift writing style, as if the author himself wanted to convey the brevity and impact of Christ's mission on earth in his very writing style. As for the man himself, very little is known; nonetheless, a great deal of tradition has been built up around him - in some ways, quite literally.

The evangelist's remains are said to currently reside in the Venetian basilica that bears his name, where they have been since 828. According to the tradition, rogue Venetian sailors stole Mark's body from Alexandria by smuggling it in a barrel of pork. His remains were temporarily lost during the remodel in the late 1oth century, but rediscovered in 1094.

Interestingly, this action had religious and political motivations. Supposedly, the religious intent was to fulfill the prophecy given to Mark, that an angel appeared to him when he was on an island in Venice and proclaimed to him, "Pax tibi Marce Evangelista meus," (Peace to you, Mark, my evangelist.) It then told him this would be his final resting place. Since he died in Alexandria, according to tradition, the sailors were only making God's will known. However, they were also freeing Venice from any political affiliation. Previously, Venice's patron saint was Theodore, a distinctly eastern saint. They didn't want to switch to the popular Peter or Paul, which would imply fealty to Rome.

When they chose Mark and ensconced him in their church, the basilica became the Doge's private palace. The Doge was the elected leader of Venice, with mostly ceremonial duties. The church was attached directly to his palace, and was gilded and remodeled into one of the most beautiful wonders of Italian architecture. In other words, Mark was reserved only for those in power.

This seems to be one of the darkest of human tendencies - the desire to claim a piece of God's universal story for themselves alone. For the Venetians, their exclusive claim on this evangelist was to grant them power over the sea, confidence in defeating both east and west, and a place in eternal history. To be fair, they're not the only once who stole a holy person's remains or called something holy a secular right - but it certainly is a strong example of it. I cannot help but wonder what Mark, this man of few words wishing only to proclaim God's good news in Jesus Christ would have to say about being fought over, covered in gold mosaics, and lifted up not as a testimony to God's work but as evidence of human jealousy and greed. I suspect he would have a few choice words to say about it.

God of all people, our selfishness leads us to claim you and your power only for ourselves. You know our darkest tendencies, our self-driven will, our resistance to your message of love and self-sacrifice, and yet you still sent your Son into our midst. Grant us the grace to open our hearts and minds to his mercy given to all people, sinners and saints, and give us the words to always glorify Your Name alone. Amen.

San Pietro in Vincoli

While Peter was kept in prison, the church prayed fervently to God for him. The very night before Herod was going to bring him out, Peter, bound with two chains, was sleeping between two soldiers, while guards in front of the door were keeping watch over the prison. Suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared and a light shone in the cell. He tapped Peter on the side and woke him, saying, "Get up quickly." And the chains fell off his wrists. - Acts 12:5-7

Rome grants a lot of attention to Peter for many pretty obvious reasons, not the least of which being that he is credited as the first Pope and head of the early Christian church. Tradition holds that he was imprisoned, martyred and buried here in Rome - in fact, St. Peter's is on top of his tomb, building the church literally on him as Jesus declared.

One of the smaller churches in Rome named after Peter is S. Pietro in Vincoli (St. Peter in Chains) which is actually not far from the Angelicum. The namesake of the church, and what it is to be most reputed for, is the reliquary holding the chains that once bound Peter and were broken by the angel. Like most major reliquaries, especially those related directly to Paul or the Apostles, it is found immediately in front of the apse and is set in a lower level. In front of the chains are several candle holders where pilgrims can light candles and pray in the presence of something so close to a saint, even if it was the tools of his imprisonment.

However, when we went to this church to see the chains, the crowd of people waiting outside of the church to open after the noon break headed straight to a tomb to the right of Peter's chains. There stands a huge funerary monument intended for Pope Julius II which was to be placed in St. Peter's Basilica, originally intended to be even more enormous than it is. Carved by none other than Michelangelo, its out-of-the-way location and almost unencumbered viewing make it a favorite of tourists. They also like to see Moses' horns, based on St. Jerome's mistranslation of Exodus 34.

It's interesting for me to have both amazing sites in the same church, both reminding us of the oppression and imprisonment of God's people through the ages. Of course, even today there are people suffering for their faith, and many of them aren't benefiting from miraculous rescues. It's also interesting that most people flocked to the beautiful artistic representation rather than the cold, impersonal chains. While it's hard to deny the pull of Michelangelo, it's much easier to walk away from a coarse reminder of the sacrifices many people go through for their faith, whether on a small or grand scale. It makes me appreciate Peter more, for all his mistakes and confusion, in the end he wanted nothing more than to serve God with everything he had.

Merciful God, you have never promised us an easy or simply life by following you. We remember Peter, who stumbled and fell many times, but nonetheless was granted the strength and grace to continue on in your ministry. Grant that grace also to those persecuted for following you, those suffering under their work for the kingdom, or those doubting in anyway. Send your Holy Spirit to strengthen us always, in your Son's name, Amen.