Ash Wednesday: Introduction to My Lenten Journey

Via di S. Onofrio (actually a stairway)

When living in metro New York I was part of a Lenten Journey group. Several people would get together once a week for a simple meal, shared reflection and prayer. Last year the group is continued the tradition through e-mail and the internet. I made my contribution through my blog.

This Lent, I will again make a Lenten Journey, visiting a different church here in Rome each week and sharing some reflections and images that result from my visit.

Cross atop the gate of the Church of San Onofrio on the Janiculum Hill

The churches I plan to visit are “vacant” titular churches and I will use as a prompt for my reflections the collects for the seven Sundays in Lent from A New Zealand Prayerbook - He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa, first published in 1989 by the Church of the Province of New Zealand.

What are “titular” churches?
The practice of assigning cardinals titular churches dates from the early days of the Catholic Church, when popes were advised by the clergy of Rome. Today, the pope's advisers are cardinals who live around the world, but in a nod to the past, each cardinal is assigned a parish in the diocese of Rome. When a cardinal dies, his titular church becomes vacant. (For example, the church of SS. Nome di Gesù e Maria in Via Lata was the titular church of Avery Cardinal Dulles, S.J., who died last December. It is now “vacant” until the pope appoints a new cardinal to this church.)

Good Friday: Stations of the Cross

These Stations of the Cross by Mimmo Paladino are in the Church of Santo Volto di Gesù in Rome.

I. Jesus is Condemned to Death

II. Jesus Takes Up the Cross

III. Jesus Falls the First Time

IV. Jesus Meets His Mother

V. Simon Helps Jesus

VI. Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

VII. Jesus Falls the Second Time

VIII. Jesus Meets the Women

IX. Jesus Falls the Third Time

X. Jesus is Stripped

XI. Jesus Dies on the Cross

XII. Jesus Dies on the Cross

XIII. Jesus is Taken Down From the Cross

XIV. Jesus is Placed in the Tomb

XV. Resurrection

5th Week of Lent: San Stefano Rotondo

My Lenten Journey takes me to the Church of San Stefano Rotondo on the Celian Hill. It was built in the 5th Century on the former site of military barracks for non-Italian soldiers.
Today the neighborhood still has the feeling of a tranquil seclusion that attracted the composer Palentrina in the 16th Century, according to Georgina Mason in her Companion Guide to Rome.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Upon entering the church, I am awed by the purity of the round plan of the building and the way it is bathed in light. The altar is in the center, and the cross has been covered in purple for Lent. There are many tourists gazing at the patterns created by the antique columns and wooden ceiling. The walls are covered with frescoes depicting very "unmerciful" martyrdom scenes. Charles Dickens had this to say about these frescoes in his Pictures of Italy (1846) :
To single out details from the great dream of Roman Churches, would be the wildest occupation in the world. But St. Stefano Rotondo, a damp, mildewed vault of an old church in the outskirts of Rome, will always struggle uppermost in my mind, by reason of the hideous paintings with which its walls are covered. These represent the martyrdoms of saints and early Christians; and such a panorama of horror and butchery no man could imagine in his sleep, though he were to eat a whole pig raw, for supper. Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, grilled, crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, buried alive, torn asunder by horses, chopped up small with hatchets: women having their breasts torn with iron pinchers, their tongues cut out, their ears screwed off, their jaws broken.... So insisted on, and laboured at, besides, that every sufferer gives you the same occasion for wonder as poor old Duncan awoke, in Lady Macbeth, when she marvelled at his having so much blood in him.
























Once I settled down in a chair, I was able to keep the frescoes in the background and allow the architecture to energize my mind and soul. I imagined Palestrina's music accompanying worship in this space. I became aware that over the centuries pilgrims have come into this space to seek mercy. And here I am. Dear God, help me to be merciful - and be merciful to me!

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

3rd Week of Lent: San Marco

For the third week of Lent I visited the Basilica of San Marco, dating from the 4th Century and restored or rebuilt in 792, 833, 1460, and 1750. It is the national church of the Venitians living in Rome and is dedicated to their patron, St. Mark. According to tradition, Mark wrote his gospel in Rome. I approached the church by walking across the Piazza San Marco, which is really a small public garden next to Piazza Venezia.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.
I was surprised to find, after going through the front door, that I had to walk down several steps to enter the church. Blessed are the meek... I was immediately confronted with a lectern holding a book, opened to the gospel for the Third Sunday in Lent. I stood there and read the Italian text, line by line. I probably comprehended less than 50% of the Italian sentences, but I was able to fill in the unintelligable parts with my knowledge of the gospel narrative. It was the story of the Samaritan woman at the well.

After reading, I sat in the church to take in all that the church contained. The nave was flanked by rows of beautiful marble columns and above was a magnificent Renaissance ceiling. The apse was covered with a mosaic depicting Christ standing in the center. Amidst all of this grandeur I was drawn to the twelve humble sheep at the bottom of the mosaic, representing the apostles, with the Lamb of God in the center. Blessed are the meek...



Some exploring in the church took me behind the main altar and down some stairs where I discovered a simple stone chapel with the remains of Pope St. Mark (336 AD) and Saints Abdon and Sennen. I had never heard of these saints, yet here wertheir remains, in the lower level of a magnificent basilica and next to the remains of a 4th Century Pope. Blessed are the meek... When I got home, I found references to legends saying they were Persians martyred by the Roman Emperor Decius in the middle of the 3rd Century.

The words of the gospel that I read when I first entered the basilica came back to me when I left the church and noticed a modest water fountain in a corner of the Piazza San Marco. It is composed of a pine cone with water flowing from faucets below it, offering refreshment to all who stop. Blessed are the meek... While I watched, a homeless woman came to drink, some tourists filled water bottles, a young Asian couple took pictures of each other as they drank, and a mother with a stroller stopped to fill her child's plastic cup.




What water do I need to quench my thirst and desires? How will I let God satisfy my thirst?
Jesus answered and said to her,
“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again;
but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst;
the water I shall give will become in him
a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
John 4: 13-14

2nd Week of Lent: Basilica di San Clemente

I grew up in the California beach town of San Clemente. We had a house overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the sound of the waves lulled me to sleep at night. My mother loved to work in the garden that surrounded our home and there were colorful flowers blooming all year. She liked to stand at the kitchen sink and look out the window to the ever-changing colors of the ocean and the sky. When we were kids we took our natural surroundings for granted. My mother always marveled at the beauty of God’s creation. I remember the words that she quoted from somewhere... "We are little boats on the big sea."

The last time that I saw my mother was on Ash Wednesday, 1991. She was in a coma and I was at her bedside when the parish priest came to the hospital room and made a cross of ashes on her forehead with the words: “Remember Dorothy that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” He then repeated the words to me, placing a cross on my forehead. My mom died less than a month later. After her funeral, my brother and I took her ashes and scattered them into the Pacific Ocean from the end of the pier just up the beach from our home.
My mother was very much in my thoughts as I recalled the words of the beatitude and entered the Basilica di San Clemente, a station church for the 2nd week of Lent.

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

My eyes were taken into the large golden mosaic of the apse as I sat on a bench in the nave of the basilica. The image of Christ on the cross is at the center, rooted in an acanthus plant, with four streams of water flowing from it, providing drink for two deer. Growing out of the acanthus are vines and branches extending over the whole surface of the apse in circular motions. Between the shots and inside the coils of the vines, the artist has depicted the rich diversity of creation. There are shepherds and peasants at work. There are monks at prayer. There are people of all kinds, rich and poor. Animals and plants make a fantasy of color against the gold background of the mosaic.

In my mother’s garden I was fascinated by the "prehistoric feeling" of the leaves and flowering spikes of her acanthus plants. They were a sharp contrast to other plants that seemed more refined. Their “wildness” added to the diversity that we enjoyed in her garden.

My mother’s life had a diversity that she shared with her children. She was very active in the local parish, and nurtured in me the sense of faith and community that are an important part of my life today. She was active in ecumenical activities in the 1950’s, one of the community's leaders for interfaith initiatives. She was a scout leader and our home was always a gathering point for the kids in the neighborhood. She gave us a respect for the beliefs and practices of our Muslim bread man. Often on Sunday evening, she put us in the station wagon and drove us to a Mass that was for migrant workers in a hut in the middle of the fields that were outside of town. She felt it was important for the Mexican men to be with families when they were separated from their own wives and children.

Sitting in the Basilica di San Clemente I am most grateful for the life of my mother. My prayer is that I will always keep my eyes open to the beauty of God’s creation and appreciate the richness of diversity that God calls me to participate in. May I never take things for granted. May I always be filled with wonder and awe and accept the challenges of life that God brings to me.

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.


I encourage you to read Michael Tinker’s blog for some interesting details about the Basilica di San Clemente. Michael is a professor at Hobart and William Smith Colleges in Geneva, New York, and is teaching a course in Rome this semester. http://www.crankyprofessor.com/archives/001468.html

First Week of Lent: San Giovanni in Laterano

San Giovanni in Laterano is the cathedral church of Rome, the Patriarchial Lateran Archbasilica. It has been the site of five ecumenical councils and home of the popes until 1304 when they left for Avignon. The Roman Emperor Constantine gave the Bishop of Rome this parcel of imperial property, together with its buildings, for a church and residence in the early 4th century. The property was known as Lateran since it had previously belonged to Plautius Lateranus.

The first basilica was consecrated by Pope Sylvester I in 324 and dedicated to the Holy Savior, naming it Basilica Salvatoris. This basilica was restored and rebuilt many times because of sackings, fires and earthquakes. In the 10th century it was dedicated to St. John the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist was added as a co-patron in the 12th century. The interior that is seen today dates from the 17th century and is primarily the work of the architect Francesco Borromini.



Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Entering the basilica today, your eyes are first drawn to the front, where an elaborate tabernacle-like structure above the main altar holds reliquaries of Saints Peter and Paul. When your eyes look down, you notice that the floor is an intricate design made of marble, and as you gaze up, you behold an immense carved ceiling of gold on top of a background of blue and red. It takes awhile to settle down and pause for reflection.

This basilica and the adjoining palace are the places where the influence, wealth and power of the Church grew. It is also the "Mother Church" responsible for directing the spread of Christianity for over 1,000 years. The Lateran Basilica was the site of four Ecumenical Councils. It was where Charlemagne was baptized and St. Francis of Assisi came here and received approval from the Pope for the Franciscan way of life.


Two weeks ago the Community of Sant' Egidio celebrated their 40th Anniversary here. This lay community began as a group of high school students and are now more than 50,000 members around the world, with a commitment to the Gospel and prayer, friendship, helping the needy, dialogue and peace.

For over 1,500 years this basilica has been a place where Christians have come to meet God. During my recent visit I was sitting in the nave in front of a statue of Saint Philip. Pilgrims and tourists were coming and going in a constant flow. Some were in groups and some were alone. It was interesting to see nuns in various styles of habits - some carrying rosaries and others with digital cameras. Directly across the nave, in a side chapel, there were two dozen people praying the rosary in Italian. I heard voices singing from the front of the basilica. I thought it might be a recording, as can be heard in many Roman churches during the day. I discovered that a group of about 80 American pilgrims were celebrating the Eucharist in another side chapel.

I encountered many facets of the Kingdom of God in this basilica. How can I be "poor in spirit" so that I can have a fuller experience of the Kingdom of God?

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

These angels are in the chapel dedicated to St. Francis of Assisi.



The statues of Christ and the saints look down upon the thousands of gay men and women gathered in Piazza San Giovanni in Laterano for Gay Pride. The people may not all be religious, but they have come to this basilica to celebrate who they are.