Archive for
June, 2010
June 14th, 2010
This is our last full day in Rome and I am almost certain my last blog entry from Rome. We decided to make it more or less a full day in the city, squeezing in a rest time in the afternoon. Speaking of rest, I look forward to sleeping in my own bed in our happily air-conditioned house! Last night was a long night with nary a breeze to stir up the disquieting quiet.
We boarded the bus to begin our trek through some of our favorite places in Rome, but first we needed a quick breakfast. In Italy a typical breakfast is a cappuccino and pastry – no bacon, eggs and certainly no grits. The four of us dined for about 7 dollars. We started our day of shopping with the Piazza of Campo de Fioro (translated it means “field of flowers” although the only flowers are the ones sold in stalls and it has not been a field in about two thousand years). At the market I bought some very pungent spices that will go well with olive oil and bread when we are settled again in Augusta. I just hope it will make it through customs. We also bought a few other things along the way that we had putting off until the last minute. In fact, most of our shopping was accomplished by wandering down alley after alley walking in stores that we thought to be interesting. By the time lunch rolled around we were all laden with small shopping bags and the satisfaction in knowing we have done our small part in helping the Italian economy.
One of my many visits to the ATM!
After three weeks of eating pasta, pizza, insalata, and vegetables prepared in more ways than I can remember, we were too tired to think about one more Italian restaurant to try out, so we ate – are you ready for this? – at McDonalds. I don’t eat at McDonalds back home, but this decision seemed to have the support of my two boys and they have been more or less indulgent of us in all of our Roman travels. It seemed a bit wrong to be eating at McDonalds overlooking the piazza before the majestic Pantheon, but travel is filled with ironies.
On the way back to our bus we did a bit more window shopping, had some more coffee, and finally made it back to our apartment for a few hours of rest before the evening. During the “down-time” I walked back to the catacombs to pick up a few more things to remember our visit.
Very soon it was nearing suppertime and our final night in the city. We returned to one of the first restaurants we visited when we arrived. In fact we still do not know the name since the place doesn’t even have a sign, but the locals we know have recommended and we can attest that it was well worth a repeat visit. We finished our evening in my favorite piazza – Piazza Novona – with it three exquisite fountains sculpted by Bernini. While taking in the night lights of Rome we were entertained by street performers and met a young couple from Atlanta. In fact they took what I believe is the only family picture I have of all four of us together.
Thank you dear reader for indulging my ramblings as I have reflected on our time and studies in Rome. Your encouragement and feedback has been welcome. We look forward to touching ground in the grand state of Georgia. It is never far from our minds.
Peace, peace, peace,
June 13th, 2010
Saturday was my first and last Saturday that was completely unscheduled so I did what I usually do when faced with the “oppression” of an open schedule – I scheduled something! Actually I had help from Amy. The other day we read an advertisement in the subway that there would be a “Fan Fest” starting Saturday in the Borghese Park for the World Cup. We both agreed that this sounded like fun and easier than the side trip I was thinking about taking south of Rome to look at some more ruins. About mid-morning we took off first by bus and then by walking another mile and a quarter to the park itself. Along the way we picked up a few foccacia sandwiches and chips with the hope to find a place to picnic before the jumbo-tron.
World Cup fever in Rome!
Gates opened at ten and the first game (Greece versus South Korea) began at 1:30. It was already noon and we wanted to beat the crowd, since the place was designed to only hold 20,000. Our concerns turned out to be groundless. We arrived and no one with the exception of workers and one lone person was there. I am not kidding. In fact I have a picture to prove it. We plopped down in the middle of the expanse of artificial turf rolled out for all the fans and ate our sandwiches while listening to Italian radio. All along we kept thinking, hoping that the swelling crowd was making their way rowdily from somewhere in the park and just have not arrived. By the time the game was about to start there were two men from Korea and a couple who apparently were pulling for Greece. I decided out of loyalty to the language of the New Testament and Paul’s missionary journeys I would stand for Greece’s national anthem, to the horror and embarrassment of my family.
We sat through most of the first half in the warm sun, but soon decided we could not take much more of this level of excitement. Folding up our blanket that we were using for the picnic I counted ten other fans. Maybe more were coming later in the day. Maybe it was the teams that were playing. Maybe the start of something is not nearly as big as the final games. Or maybe after three weeks I still do not understand this city! Oh well, there were only six cities in the world selected to host the Fan Fast, none of which are in the United States, so we at least wanted a unique experience. On that level we were successful.
A Water fountain that bears a remarkable resemblance to Martin Luther.
Stumbling home (I have mentioned that my feet hurt) we rested for a few hours, watched Nigeria and Argentina play on television, and then had dinner at a neighborhood “hosteria”, which is what Italians call a family on restaurant. They serve wonderful pasta dishes and have one waiter who can speak a few words of English!
USA vs. UK
Following supper Amy and I watched USA play England, which as most of you know by now ended in a tie. At this point I was good and sleepy, but neither Amy nor I rested well. Our apartment has not cooled off much from the heat of the day. Without the hum of at least a fan, the still, warm night air is not the most restful environment. Yes, yes, I admit that air conditioning has spoiled me, but at this point I would settle for a small tabletop fan. Fortunately we only have a couple of more nights left and then we can return to the comfort of our own beds in a suitably cooled environment.
June 13, 2010 – Sunday
Looking for deals at the flea market
We are steadily trying to check off all the things we want to do or see that has not been done or said. One of those is to visit Rome’s biggest and oldest flea market, open only on Sundays. It is a long corridor of stalls selling cheap clothing, used items, and antiques (the difference between used and antique is the price). Everything was up for negotiation, but some of these sellers were fierce in their haggling – I needed Milton Martin, whom I have seen in action in Hungary and Israel.
Clark still had some spending money left so we wandered into the city center to look through a few stores and pick up a few things for supper tonight.
Catacomb inscription, circa 4th century
There are many things I will miss when we leave Rome in a couple of days. I will miss shopping in the local markets for fresh produce, meat, cheeses and especially all the wonderful bread. I will miss wandering into all these ancient churches and see beautiful works of art. Believe it or not I will miss walking, because at least I know I am doing some good for my body. I will miss the beautiful small Italian cars, especially the old Fiats. I will miss the helpful merchants who laugh with us (and oftentimes at me) as we struggle through our Italian phrases. I will miss seeing all the “old folks” sitting on park benches every evening visiting with neighbors and family. I will miss great places to eat on every corner and walking next door to have a morning cup of cappuccino or an afternoon espresso. I will miss gelato, cobbled streets, piazzas and all of the fountains.
I will not miss bumpy bus rides, rude merchants, honking horns and Vespas swerving around me. I will not miss having to struggle to ask even the most basic of questions in my own version of Italian. I will not miss all the cigarette smoke (it appears everyone smokes here) or all the bumping and shoving along a sidewalk.
Catacomb inscriptions
Like every place in the world, there are things interesting to see, new experiences to have, and differences to celebrate. Like every place lived in while traveling, it is a gift to also say, there is no place like home.
Amy, Clark, Aaron and I are looking forward to being back home in Augusta, GA.
Peace be with you,
June 12th, 2010
Today was my first day on sabbatical leave that was not in one way or another dedicated to my intended studies. For 17 straight days I have been walking, talking, listening, and taking in the sights, sounds, and conversations related to sacred art. If I have counted correctly I have visited 19 different churches, some of them multiple times; six different museums; innumerable historical sites; and eaten enough pasta and pizza to become a regional authority on southern Italian cuisine.
Today we took it easy, or at least easier than the past two and half weeks. The timing could not have been better because for some reason I have developed a painful blister on the ball of my right foot two days ago. Normally one gets blisters on the first few days which then become calluses. I am not sure how this one slipped by until now, but either way it is painful to walk.
People have asked me if we were planning to travel outside of Rome in our remaining few days in Italy. Originally that seemed to be a sensible plan, but truthfully we are all about spent and there are still some things we want to do and see while in Rome – like see the skulls and bones of the Capuchin friars!
Prosciutto Pizza
Zucchini flower pizza
In spite of an irritating blister, I swallowed my pride and wore “socks in my crocs” and walked a bit today, visiting a favorite market in the piazza Campo dei Fiori. There were a few items we needed for supper as well as just the need to leisurely browse without having to worry about schedules or museum times. Fresh basil, mozzarella, tomatoes, and spices were purchased for our “antipasti” dinner tonight. After shopping in the market we found a good pizzeria recommended by some locals and dined on fried zucchini flowers and brick oven pizza.
The rest of the afternoon I leisurely read, caught up on email, and tried to relax. More or less pitching in together we put together our antipasti spread and dove into our meal with the haze of garlic heavy in the air. It was by comparison to most evenings a quiet one, which we all needed.
Tomorrow we plan to join with the rest of the world celebrating the World Cup by attending the “FIFA Fan Fest” in the Borghese gardens. Rome was one of six cities in the world selected to play host to the Fan Fest where the public can gather and watch the games on a “jumbo-tron.” I confess that I watch about as much soccer as I do baseball, but I cannot help get a bit caught up in all of the excitement shared by my Italian neighbors of this event that comes around every four years. Italians are very engaged with this year’s World Cup because they are the defending world champs. Our final days will no doubt be surrounded by the noise and cacophony of exuberant fans.
Peace be with you,
June 11th, 2010
Even though my more or less formal study of sacred art in Rome under the tutelage of Michael Schwartz concluded on Wednesday, I still had a couple of more commitments today. Just after lunch I left my family to meet with the president of the Union of Evangelical Baptist Churches of Italy, Anna Maffei. I am not sure if I have clarified how I became acquainted with Anna, so let me explain. Two or so years ago, when I began planning for this sabbatical, I contacted Rob Nash, the global missions coordinator for the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship and asked him for help. He put me in contact with Anna, whom he came to know through shared work with the Baptist World Alliance (more about the BWA later). My primary concern was to locate suitable and affordable housing for a three week stay in Rome. Through a flurry of email exchanges Anna suggested I rent from her sister, Adrianna, which is exactly what we wound up doing.
Even though we have been here for well over two weeks and our time about to wind down, due to my heavy schedule and Anna’s we were only able to meet Thursday afternoon. The headquarters are just above the Rome Baptist Church where I worshipped Sunday. The offices were rather ordinary with modern, inexpensive office furnishings arranged beneath what looked to be a rather old, coffered ceiling that was at least a few hundred years old. As I said earlier, the denomination (although that is not a term used much outside of America) of Italian Baptists belong to the Baptist World Alliance. The BWA represents Baptists all over the world, including our own church family of First Baptist of Augusta. In fact our church provides support to the BWA in our budget directly as well as through the CBF and over the years ministers and laity from our church have attended its “congress” which meets every five years.
Anna is a pastor, but has taken a leave of absence for the past six years until she completes her final term as President, which is a full time job. When I asked Anna if there were many women serving as Baptist pastors in Italy, a country I equate both politically and socially as conservative, she said only about 1/3 of Baptist pastors are women! Since Baptists and most other Protestants are very much in the minority, there is little time for squabbles and infighting, especially the kind we have suffered from for so long in our own country. Instead, the Baptists work alongside other communities of faith for the spread of the gospel and the betterment of the “least of these.” Coincidently when I entered the offices earlier in the afternoon they were completing a press conference announcing their intent to work with other persons of faith in serving the Romany people (gypsies) in Italy. Like everywhere else in Europe, the gypsies are an oppressed minority group, often denied opportunities for work, education or healthcare. Therefore, she noted, many of the beggars and petty thieves throughout Rome are gypsies trying survive. This past winter, for example, gypsy children were living out on the streets of Rome, beneath the imposing shadow of the Vatican. The irony was not lost.
As we talked and discussed the situation of Baptists in Italy she ruefully noted that they were in dire need of church plants in Italy and has had no Italian speaking Baptist churches started in the last 20 years or so. She asked me rather directly “how could we help?” I honestly do not know and the prospect is overwhelming because I suspect Italy’s shortage is the same throughout Europe. Not just Baptists, but Christianity in general is suffering a decline. If you want to go where Christianity is thriving, one needs to look in the nations of the southern hemisphere as well as in Asia.
On the way out I thanked Anna once again for all her help and support to me in helping us settle into Rome as “temporary locals” and promised to stay in touch. I climbed another flight of stairs and briefly met with the pastor of Rome Baptist Church, Dave Hodgdon. He is a fine fellow from Colorado and along with his wife has served this vibrant congregation for over 12 years. As I mentioned in an earlier email I have an affectionate past with this church, becoming acquainted with the church when I was a college student and met the missionaries who planted it in 1963.
Near five in the afternoon I caught up with Amy and the boys along the street known for Rome’s finest and upscale shopping. Aaron had some euros burning a hole through his pocket and I promised to accompany them as we walked in and out of familiar name brand stores such as Nike, Adidas, Timberland, Gucci and Aaron’s favorite – Lacoste. Later on we wandered and enjoyed the sites and sounds of the city and met the class for a celebratory meal. They will be boarding a plane for home on Saturday, while we will have a few more days before our time here comes to a close.
Augusta should be proud of its University, the many fine students who attend, and the exceptional faculty that make up the ASU community. I have enjoyed getting to know and relate with these students as a guest and observer. The dinner was a fitting way to share highlights and observations of our time and studies beneath the Roman sky and al fresco dining.
We only have a few more days left and while I am looking forward to getting back home and seeing our church family, we have many things we want to squeeze in before our flight.
In the meantime, ciao!
June 10th, 2010
Today marks the “official” last day of class, although there are some extra excursions planned before the weekend. Before meeting up with the class this afternoon I took some time to go on a “hike” on the Appian Way. As you recall from an earlier post, we walked a portion of it Monday, but there was still more to see. I set out on my own, since the family has no desire to do any additionally walking and ambled my way southward (and in this case upward, as in a hill) along the Via Appia Antiqua. Before reaching the terminus, I came to a place where it was fenced off, apparently due to an archeology dig. Over the years when I have been out hiking, walking or just plain wandering around and have come to dead ends, I tend to look for another road, which was what I did today. I found a small dirt foot path to my right that wove through a pasture end emptied into a dirt road. I kept walking. Along the way I found the ruins of some old structure that could have been an old home and barn. This is what makes Rome endlessly fascinating – treasures on every corner (or in this case pasture).
The Color Purple
Down the path were all sorts of wildflowers growing including delicate purple blooms. I was reminded of a line from the novel The Color Purple that goes something like this: “I think it makes God mad when someone walks past the color purple and not notice.” Well, I noticed and snapped a picture for good measure. It was about that time that I noticed on the other side of the road a fence and hidden behind the weeds was a sign in Italia. My rough translation of the sign is: “Military Zone. No pictures.” About the same time, and I am not exaggerating, a military jeep with two soldiers (are they called soldiers in the Italian army?) road by, but fortunately for me they passed me by leaving my camera and me alone!
The Appian Way with its Ancient Pavers
I wandered back to the apartment just in time for lunch. In the last day or so Amy’s heel spurs have been giving her trouble, so walking has been painful. She elected to forgo roaming along the Appian Way with its ancient tombs and catacombs and stayed at home which was in a twisted way fortunate for me. She fixed a lunch of eggs, bacon and tomato sandwiches! It is a good thing I am doing all this walking.
After going through email, making notes, and studying up for the afternoon class field trip, we all caught our bus to the city and center and meandered our way to our intended destination. Now that we have been in Rome for over two weeks we have a better idea of the more scenic alleys and streets. We are beginning to “travel as locals” as Rick Steve’s phrases it.
We met the faculty in front of the intended location and from there hiked over the Tiber River and made our way to the other side of Vatican City to meet the students. Michael had assigned them to plan and lead the field trip for the last day of class, so the students had us first walk to meet them in this one corner of Rome that I have not had a chance (or for that matter reason to visit). Our first stop was to look at a post-modern building, flowing with glass, curving facades of stone facing and exposed steel. It was a delightful building that looked a bit out of place as if it had rolled in from the tide of other buildings centuries older. Michael was pleased with the ingenuity of the class, stating that this particular building is Rome’s best example of post-modern construction.
Art in a Subway
Our next visit was a bit more complicated, both in transportation and destination. First we boarded the Metro, Rome’s subway. We have not needed to use the subway, only its busses, so this was a first for the DeLoaches since coming to Rome. The first line of our route was on what appeared to be a brand new subway. All the cars were gleaming, polished and clean with each car open so that one could look in either direction through all the other cars. When I remarked that this was without a doubt the nicest subway I have ever traveled upon one student looked at me and said, “Wait till you see the next one.” The next one we boarded arrived to a screeching halt and it was covered on the outside with bright and bold graffiti, which, I soon found out, matched the bright and bold graffiti on the inside! It was also packed with commuters and perhaps a few tourists.
The students were taking us to Palatine Hill, not far from where we get off from our bus to the city center, but we did not know today’s itinerary (neither did the faculty). It was of little difference since we got to experience Rome’s Metro and check that off of our “bucket list.” Disappointingly, we were not able to enter the gardens of Palatine Hill to some miscommunication with hours, etc. They had worked hard to get us here and now part of their “lecture” was gutted. They had one more location in mind, but this was going to require getting back on the Metro and taking off for another part of Rome. At this point it was nearing 6 pm, my family looked a bit forlorn and I decided that if I still wanted them to speak to me, I best bid the class goodbye for the evening and go with my loved ones in search of nourishment.
What do you eat with nachos in Italy - olive oil!
One of the students told Aaron that there was a place to get great nachos about a half hour walk from where we were standing. That was all he needed to hear and nachos was all the motivation he needed to make the trek without complaint. Sooooo…we walked to the west side of Rome to eat nachos in an Irish Pub. Yes, it is as ridiculous as you think it is and the nachos tasted as bad as you can imagine. They were served with a sauce that I can only describe as “guacamole-esque”. Yet, Aaron was happy with his nachos, Clark was pleased with his Irish stew, Amy tolerated her fish in chips, and I was grateful just to sit down.
We stumbled back to our bus stop, then to our apartment by 8:30 and called it a day. My feet are done!
Tomorrow evening we are invited to have a meal with the entire class and faculty as a way to celebrate the end of our study in Rome. It will be nice to sit and relax with these fine students and their skilled tutors.
Peace be with you all and good night, (of course by the time you read this it will be “Buon Giorno.”
June 9th, 2010
Michaelangelo's "Moses"
After a rather restless night of sleep – I think I am past jet lag and simply over-caffeinated coupled with mental overload – I caught the bus at 7 AM for the city center. From there I hiked another mile or so to meet up with Dr. Schwartz, Dr. Shotwell and the art students. This morning was dedicated to visiting churches that were artistically and theologically responding to the reformation of the early 16th century.
Our first church for the morning was Santa Maria in Vallicella. Don’t bother checking a typical guidebook because the chances are it is not mentioned, although that does not mean that it has no gifts to offer the eye. Neri was the architect of this “pre-baroque” style although it has suffered (yes, I meant to use that word) many later additions of paintings, sculptures and tapestries. The design of the church – a straightforward nave with shallower chapels and transepts, however, could still be appreciated beneath the “busyness” of everything else. There was a fine early 17th century altar piece by Peter Paul Rubens. Michael summed the interior of this church by stating, “this anticipates what we now experience of the continuous bombardment of the visual.” It made me long for something a bit simpler.
As we walked to our next church Michael took the opportunity to point out buildings we have been passing nearly every day and noting how one can determine if they were renaissance or something more modern. We next entered the Basilica San Andrea della Valle. This church is the scene of the first act of Puccini’s beautiful opera Tosca - an opera I was hoping to attend while in Rome. It also has the second largest dome in Rome (St. Peter’s is the largest). It is a church whose architectural style steadily moves into what is called Baroque. Unfortunately the outside of the church is under remodeling with the façade being completely hidden by the lattice work of scaffolding. The interior was beautifully intact and while still more “involved” than I like, it was not nearly as gaudy as our earlier visit of the morning. It was easier to see the form, style and movement of the pilasters, capitals, oculus and dome. Domenichino’s paintings of scenes of the condemnation, crucifixion and entombment of St. Andrew were stirring and worth further reflection.
Our final church for the morning was Gesu, built in the latter 16th century and the first Jesuit church to be built in Rome. Like the other two, this church in design was part of Counter-Reformation Baroque. The frescoes and ceiling paintings were beautiful, if not a bit harsh on the neck after craning upwards for too long. I have read where these churches were each intended to be harsh statements against Protestants (remember, this was all part of the larger Counter-Reformation movement), but I was not clear how aesthetically this was evidenced. This needs to be a question to take up with Michael when the opportunity allows.
Another view of Moses
The morning was nearly gone and our class field trip was concluded, but before I caught up with my family I made one final visit before lunch: St. Peter’s in Chains. As the name implies, the church was built to house the chains believed to be of St. Peter’s imprisonment in Rome. The chains are on display in an ornate glass box just below the high altar. More than the chains, however, visitors come to see Michelangelo’s Moses, part of the tomb intended for Pope Julius II. After finishing Moses, Michelangelo was taken away from the project to work on the upstart Sistine Chapel! The statue of Moses is of course magnificent, powerful and muscular. Moses looks as though he is about to leap forth with God’s covenant in hand.
I returned back to the apartment to do some more writing and reading, in part to prepare for our afternoon field trip. I suppose I am spending a bit more time on the bus than I would like, but it just goes with the territory. Around 3 PM I was back on the bus and soon back to the city center…well, near it. I got off a few stops earlier to check out the Bocca della Verita – the legendary “Mouth of Truth.” There is always an international crowd lined up outside this church to engage the stone face in the porch wall. The playful legend goes that if you stick your hand in the mouth of the face and you are a liar you will, in the parlance of my upbringing, “draw back a nub!” While I hope the truth is in me, I am fully aware that along with everyone else, I often fall short, so I chose to not wait in line and stick my hand in. Plus why would I wait a half hour and spend 50 cents for a photo-op with no one with me?
The Bocca della Verita
On a more cultural note, I caught up with the group and we set out walking for nearly an hour to reach our first church for our afternoon visit – the Santa Pudenziana. The foundations of this church are some of the oldest among Rome’s churches. By the fourth century a church was established and still today the mosaics in the apse date to the early 5th century. The figure of Christ glows in gold, flanked by Paul to his right and Peter to his left. In early Christianity Paul, not Peter, was the more important apostle in both writing and art. According Schwartz one of the unique depictions of the mosaic was the portrayal of Christ. Only a century early Christian art was mostly symbolic with images of fish, anchors, crosses, and the chi rho.
The Coffered Ceiling of Santa Maria Maggiore
Our next stop was just a block or so up the hill (I failed to mentioned that for much of our hour walk we were climbing a hill; one of Rome’s seven). The Santa Maria Maggiore was according to Michael’s own admission one of his favorites and it is easy to see why. Here is a church that has architectural and artistic features from the 5th, 12th, 13th, 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th century. Chaotic? A bit, but it all seemed to work. Outside and inside this is a magnificent and inspiring space. I find most early Christian mosaics provide sacred viewing for me and the 12th century one in the apse as well as along its walls were not disappointing. In fact, upon entering one’s eye moves rapidly along the coffered ceiling as it moves through the nave and into the altar. Words or pictures fail to describe the experience.
Different views of the magnificent apse of Santa Maria Maggiore
Michael decided that as long as we were in the area we would visit St. Peter in Chains, the church I visited earlier in the day on my own. I did not mind a repeat visit and the statue of Moses captured in the late afternoon light took on a different look.
We the day’s itinerary now behind me, I pushed through the always-crowded streets of Rome and waited for my bus. I was tired to the bone and feeling the weight of the day pressing down. Needing to pick up a few things from one of the markets, I got off the bus a few block before our apartment and patronized my favorite. The indulge my southern-fried Italian and seem to genuinely appreciate my business. With a loaf of bread, salami, cheese, and a liter of water bagged up walked home and sat down to a delicious meal Amy kept warm for me on the stove. It was 8:30 and I am told it is not a good idea to eat too soon before sleep, but by ten or so I enjoyed the best night’s sleep.
Thinking of you with peace in my heart and joy for knowing you all,
June 7th, 2010
We learned of some sad news regarding one of the ASU students. She received a call last night by cell phone that her father died in a car accident. For privacy sake I will not share her name but I do ask you to remember her and her family in your prayers at this time. The faculty is working with her to get her back home early.
Michael Schwartz sent me an email this morning sharing with me that they may or may not make it to our site lecture at the San Callisto Catacombs along the Appian Way. We decided as a family to go on ahead on our own since we are a ten minute walk from our apartment to the catacombs.
One of the many ancient tombs along the Appian Way
In spite of the morning’s news it was a beautiful day of mild temperatures, low humidity and a blue sky framed by flowing, sap-green fields. The grounds are meticulously kept, making for a striking contrast to the urban grit of the city center. There are no vehicles driving through with the exception of a few chartered buses parked discreetly behind one of buildings. Workers are constantly sweeping and trimming caring for this ancient place of burial.
water break
The catacombs served as the burial grounds for Roman Christians in the first several centuries. Romans chose cremation while early Christians chose a simple burial because of the belief of Christ’s immanent return with the bodily resurrection of the believers. In the city, however, burial was not allowed. Christians dug an estimated 375 miles of tunnels lined with tombs many layers deep.
coffee break
Coffee break alongside the Appian Way
Touring the catacombs is always guided and we had a pleasant English-speaking guide from Germany, who took us three or so “floors” down into the cool volcanic tuff stone earth. Along the way we passed the engravings of the early tombs and, with the tour guide’s blessing, I made several penciled “rubbings” of various early Christian symbols.
Towards the end of our tour there were a couple of areas set up within the catacomb for taking communion. Should we ever lead a church group to Rome, this would be an essential visit and a fitting place for worship. It is, however, not true that the catacombs were where Christians met in secret for fear of persecution. Historians have well documented that if a Christian wanted to hide (and indeed there were many times that is what they did desire) they would not do so in the conspicuous location of the catacombs, but simply disappear within Rome itself.
Following our tour through the catacombs we ambled our way down a section of the Ancient Appian Way, or “Via Appia Anitqua.” This road was built in 312 B.C. and eventually stretched 430 miles. Along this road it is said that there were 6000 slaves on crosses spaced 30 yards apart for over 100 miles. This road was an important military and political arm of the Roman Empire. It was also the road that Paul the apostle traveled on his way to Rome as a prisoner. We read about this in Acts 28:15 where fellow believers waited on Paul to pass through in order that they might join him. Tradition is that Paul never left Rome, but was later executed.
We walked along this road which is still used today by vehicles, although there is a section paved with original stone and lined with the ubiquitous cypresses one sees in stock photos of Italy. We found a small café and plopped down for some sodas and cappuccino. After resting for a few minutes I glanced up and realized that our shade tree was a rather old olive tree. Olive trees are, by the way, all over the place.
After refreshments we wandered back through the grounds of San Callisto and were pleasantly surprised to meet up with the class. They decided to come and tour the catacombs anyway, although they were an hour or so later than scheduled. It was nice to catch up with the students and hear their shared concerned for their grieving classmate. Several of them had gone on side trips over the weekend (Michael has not scheduled classes on the weekend but has graciously volunteered his time to take me and anyone interested to explore various churches on and off the beaten path). While some of the students have taken him up on this offer including yours truly, many have braved the rail system and visited places like Pompeii, Naples and Cinque Terre. We have yet to leave the city, choosing instead to fully explore this place. I am still amazed at what I have not seen. Perhaps later this week or weekend we will move beyond the confines of Rome.
This evening we entered the city center to enjoy the sites and sounds of Rome at night, something we have not had a chance to do since arriving. Frankly, by the time evening arrives each day we are too tired to add one more thing to the agenda. It does not help that I am by nature an early riser which is not a good practice of night prowling.
The city, like any large international city, stays crowded and busy most any time of the day or night. In the evening musicians are at the corner of every piazza strumming, honking, and singing. We encountered one old fellow who had a small speaker and microphone lip synching an Italian aria.
Clark's gnocchi
It was a pleasant time not having to race from one place to the next. We walked with no particular agenda, found a ristorante and dined on pasta and meat dishes, and kept on walking while watching people laugh and enjoy the sights, sounds and smells of Rome.
Tomorrow I have an early start visiting some more churches and their treasures.
Bless you,
June 7th, 2010
This morning marked our second Sunday in Rome and I was determined to go to Rome Baptist Church. This church was founded by Doug and Helen Ruchti in 1962. I came to know the Rutchis when they retired in, ironically, in Rome, GA when I was a student at Shorter College. The church is an English speaking congregation that ministers to Baptists worldwide.
Factoring in a slower bus schedule and allowing for 30 minutes of walking I left earlier than necessary – 9 AM for a 10:30 worship service. As I was walking out of my apartment I caught a glimpse of the bus rounding the corner so I raced to the stop just in time to leap in the bus as it was about to pull away. Once in it occurred to me that I may not be on the right bus since the stop serves two other lines. I asked the few passengers on board and of course none of them spoke any English, no matter how loud I spoke! One lady was convinced that I was on the wrong bus after I pointed to her on my map my intended destination, so I promptly got off the next stop a mile down the road in order to wait for my bus. As the bus pulled away I saw the number – you guessed it, I just got off my bus. Forty minutes later my next bus came around again. Nonetheless I made it to church with five minutes to spare.
As with any travel to “strange” places that involve living, eating and traveling differently, I am trying to look at such things as adventures and not inconveniences. Language barriers, lack of adequate hot water for four, experimental dishes for dinner and inexplicable and at time indecipherable bus schedules are all part of the great adventure!
Rome Baptist Church meets in a very modest room with a pipe organ behind a simple pulpit (although it was never played) and a piano to the side. Besides the pianist, the music was accompanied by two young folks playing acoustic guitars. The room itself could seat maybe 200 or so and the walls were completely bare. This is quite a visual shock considering that I have spent the last two weeks in some of the most ornate churches filled with the world’s most notable artwork. In some ways, its simplicity was a welcome respite. In the worship bulletin handed to me by a friendly usher it was noted that last week they received in contributions 732 euros (about $1000) and 192 attended the service.
The familiar hymns “Great is Thy Faithfulness” and “What Wondrous Love is This” were a welcome embrace that reconnected me with my traditions of back home. We also sung a couple of more contemporary hymns of which I was vaguely familiar. All the music was sung enthusiastically by the diverse congregation of Europeans, Africans, Asians and Americans. I sat near some students from Geneva College in Pennsylvania.
Everyone was dressed very casual with the exception of the pastor who was the only one I saw wearing a coat and tie. I counted 18 children sitting for the children’s message. The sermon itself was delivered solidly and believably from an authentic evangelical perspective. I met “Pastor Dave” afterwards and although we have exchange emails in the past, he regretted that we have yet to get together for lunch. I reminded him that we have little more than a week to go, but in fairness I have not had a gap in my schedule since the day I arrived.
After services we grabbed a quick lunch of Panninis and chips and ate by the steps of the Pantheon. Actually, Aaron spotted a McDonalds and decided he needed a fix and so met us at the steps with his fries and quarter-pounder!
We spent the afternoon walking through the Roman Forum, the ruins of Rome’s ancient city center of commerce, politics and worship. Although the day was warm (30 degrees Celsius, which I have yet to figure out the conversion; just trust me that it felt warm) touring through the ancient relics of the past was intriguing. Everywhere one turned there was something ancient to see and here we were walking where the Caesars, the philosophers and the common folk alike walked.
Walking among the ruins is a stark reminder of the transitory nature of all things. Nothing has permanence and all things come to nothing sooner or later. This is not bleak, but simply a call to reflect on where we place our trust.
I have to admit that after thirteen straight days of what seems to feel like non-stop walking my legs, feet and hips are starting to feel like over-cooked pasta! Yet there are several more days yet before the class time is past time. We meandered home and for the last several hours have been relaxing, nibbling on leftovers, and playing cards.
Amy has made the determination that we live in a neighborhood largely populated with professionals. I find this hard to believe in light of the graffiti and the modest surroundings, yet I think she is right. Every morning we see men and women dressed smartly and carrying their brief cases and such on the way to work. Also while many of the cars parked around here our typically small compact cars, there are a few BMWs, Alfa Romeos, MNIs (so you know it is good) and at least one Bentley.
The owner or leaser of this apartment is a school teacher for special needs children.
I hope to get to bed a bit earlier tonight and catch up on some sleep. We have an early start tomorrow meeting the class near our apartment to visit the catacombs along the Appian Way.
Grace, peace and love to each of you,
Greg
June 6th, 2010
Last night before bedtime I had one final chore which was to secure some drinking water. Yes, we have indoor plumbing but the water coming out of our faucets tastes, well, a bit flat and a bit off. Rome is known for its water, having long ago secured fresh water for its entire city to the extent that on nearly every block there is a drinking fountain of free flowing water. Each day as we are rambling through the city I keep two nalgene water bottles with me and as need arises find a spigot or some other drinking fountain that is flowing and fill them up. The water is clear, cold and happily tasteless.
The water out of our kitchen sink, however, is tepid and just seems a bit heavy with minerals. This brings me around to last night’s chore. In spite of all our walking and an over-the-top meal of hamburgers and fries I took one final walk for the day and found one of those drinking fountains and filled up a one liter water bottle for us to keep in the fridge. Sure, I could have just bought some water from the store, but why buy when Rome offers it free and in abundance? Plus, I felt sort of like the old farmer of bygone days going out to the well to secure what every household and every person must have in order to live – water!
When I see things out and about I no longer depend on my middle-aged, “ADD” memory to assist me in recalling them when I sit down to write. Instead I rely on my little blue notebook that I keep in my shirt pocket. Here are a couple of recent entries: On June 12 while walking to meet up with the college group we spied an African lady in what I assume was her traditional garb of bright yellow cloth. She was singing and dancing and smiling and apparently thoroughly enjoying herself in the presence of a sidewalk full of tourists and citizens. It is at these times one has to make a decision to either walk over to the other side of the street and thereby avoiding an encounter or plunge ahead and see what is going on with her. We plunged ahead.
Soon we spotted the tell-tale signs of a sign and a basket for donations. What was interesting was that she did not look or act like a typical panhandler. She was not downcast or sick. Neither did she directly accost anybody for money. The sign simply said: “I am Poor, but Happy! God bless you.” Indeed, God did through her.
Another site occurred just a few days ago when I was in a hurry to make it to the bus stop. A monk (to no great surprise this city is filled with monks), was evidently in a greater hurry. He zoomed by with his crucifix swaying on a pair of roller blades! Apparently the Rule of St. Benedict says nothing about roller blades. I loved the image and now regret that I did not grab my camera in time enough to snap his picture. If you can imagine this, it is worth the image!
Amy and I spent the morning in the Trastevere section of Rome. The boys elected to stay back at the apartment, apparently having grown weary of wandering aimlessly through alleys, piazzas, and watching me glance at my map trying to figure out where, exactly, we are at the moment. I left the a few euros for lunch, keys to the apartment and they had the run of the neighborhood for the next few hours.
Meanwhile Amy and I visited the Saturday market at Campo de Fiori. What a beautiful visage of stall after stall filled with seasonable fruits and vegetables, as well as sellers of pasta, olive oils, vinegars, meats and cheeses. We rummaged through piles of trinkets and other stuff that we contemplated taking home. Of course the last thing our crowded bookshelves need are more things to pile up in front of the books.
We returned to Santa Maria of Trastevere – one of Rome’s oldest churches – because I wanted to make a few “rubbings” from the fragments of stone from early Christian catacomb burial niches embedded in its portico. Many of the fragments contain early symbols of the Christian faith like birds, olive branches, and variations of the “chi rho.” Amy and I took a break for lunch and instead of experimenting with a new place, decided to stick with a place we knew served great brick oven pizza, “La Poeta.” I ordered a soft salami bruschetta, which came out looking like raw sausage, but tasted delicious. Amy stuck with a traditional mushroom and tomato sauce pizza, while chose one topped with sheep cheese milk and pancetta. It was a delicious meal.
I walked Amy back to our bus stop because I was going to walk over to the eastern side of the city to meet up with Dr. Schwartz and Dr. Shotwell for more church and art touring. A quick peck smooch at the stop and I was off and walking for the next 45 minutes or so through a winding, but surprisingly open, system of roads and alleys leading me to the Lateran section of Rome. In the Middle Ages this was the residence of the Popes, with the Basilica of San Giovanni rivaling St. Peter’s. It was not until the popes return from Avignon at the end of the 14th century did the papacy “move” to what is now called Vatican City. In fact, up until 1870 all popes were crowned in the church.
First stop, however, was not the basilica, but the famed and fabled steps of Scala Santa. These 28 steps are said to be those that Christ ascended in Pontius Pilate’s house during his trial. They are now covered in wood because the tradition is no foot should touch the holy steps. Pilgrims “walk” hope the steps on their knees, step by step. Michael looked at Clay and me and said, “why not?” I said, “when in Rome” which by now is getting to be a very tired attempt at humor. The three of us made our ascent to the top on our knees. While initially I felt very self conscious I must tell you that it was moving in its own way. The difficulty of such a climb in such a way, yet surrounded by other pilgrims brought together an interesting experience that words fail to describe. I found myself grateful when my knees would find a perfect fit on one of the wooden steps smoothly worn into shape by earlier pilgrims. “Those who have gone before us…”
We spent some time in the grandeur (and like St. Peter’s its grandiosity) of the Basilica of San Giovanni. An evening vesper service was in progress, so our time there was filled with Italian words of Gospel and prayers. It is indeed a magnificent structure.
We ended our time at the Baptistery, dating back to the time of Constantine. Its octagonal shape is from AD 432 and has served as a model for baptisteries throughout the Christian world. Upon entering a viewing its ancient columns and not so ancient Baroque additions, an actual baptism was taking place. A family including godparents gathered around an elderly priest who joyfully (his face was nearly enthusiastic) read from a prayer book, and splashed water upon the infant’s head. I know that we Baptists have a much different understanding and theology regarding baptisms, but there was something special about witnessing a baptism in the oldest Baptistery in the Western World. A child who, regardless of one’s sectarian understanding, being dedicated to God with families pledging to raise the child in the nurture and knowledge of Christ – even though it was all in Italian, it translates!
Saturday evening was spent quietly enjoying our own thrown together meal of antipasti, including cheeses, prosciuto, olives and wonderful type of bread that I am going to attempt to bake when I return back to Augusta.
Peace be with you as you prepare to worship Sunday with Jake Malone leading you. I will remember you in my prayers and trust that you will do the same.
June 5th, 2010
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This tiny kithcen table also functions as my reading and writing desk (as well as a place to sip espresso)
It has been another interesting day in the Eternal City. Besides what has now become the routine of making a morning walk for coffee and a pastry, I spent much of the morning reading and getting prepared for the afternoon at the Borghese Gallery. There are two books I have used on a daily basis in regards to my travels around Rome: Eyewitness Travel: Rome, and Rick Steve’s Rome 2010.
A stirring sculpture at the entrance of Fosse Ardeatine
After reading and mapping our route for the day, I took a solo walk just around the block to visit moving memorial from World War 2. The “Fosse Ardeatine” remembers 334 Italian POWs who were summarily executed at this quarry in 1944. The victims included various political prisoners, 73 Jews and ten other civilians, among them a priest and a 14 year old boy. The husband of Dr. Karen Aubrey, Phil D’Ambrogi, has a distant cousin who was one of the victims. He was able to go and visit the memorial as well as locate the marker remembering that terrible event. Not too many days ago in America Memorial Day was observed and in some ways this was my own way of remembering the many people around the world that made sacrifices on behalf of the ideals of democracy.
A memorialized "tomb" of one of the resisters to Nazi occupation
We boarded our bus with a few sandwiches packed to eat at the first piazza we crossed. After swallowing peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we made the one or so hour walk to the beautiful Borghese gardens en route to the Gallery. Honestly, how can I write in a blog my thoughts on the Borghese? The Gallery is a villa surrounded by welcome gardens. It was a place of luxury but with a keen eye for patronizing the arts. The sculptures, mosaics and paintings were as beautiful as those we have seen throughout Rome. What a neighborhood of art! Some are displaying technical skills and some are telling powerful stories and all are encouraging experiences. I am real impressed with the students of Augusta State University. Many of them are fully engaged with the works exhibited, make thoughtful observations, and listen attentively.
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I have been thinking a bit about what do I mean when I say this sabbatical is to help me understand how the local church can recover sacred art? Have we lost it or is it that we just do not know how to see it, appreciate it or consider it essential to our overall? I am still not sure. I know that our stain glass in the sanctuary, for example, tells wonderful and important stories in scenes and in color. Certainly its purpose is more than just for decoration.
Oh well, I can see that you are starting to nod off so I will change subjects…
They are smiling because of all of the culture we have shared - and the hamburgers
Following our afternoon at the Borghese we ate our most expensive meal thus far in Rome – The Hard Rock Café Roma. Yes, it is the Hard Rock you know. After nearly two weeks of antipasti, pasta, pizza and gelato we were starting to crave burgers and fries. I believe this was honestly the highlight of Aaron’s Rome experience. Seriously, we all enjoyed it and before we left we noticed a table full of some of the students nearby.
We waddled our way back to the bus stop, full of protein and trans-fat but very satisfied. On the way to the bus, however, we came upon a protest rally by local Palestinians living or visiting in Rome. While I am a bit behind on the news, I am to understand it was protesting Israel’s attack on the flotilla outside of the Gaza Strip. While it was apparently very peaceful the intersections were choked with police, military police, and riot police. It was an interesting sight.
Tomorrow is a Saturday and Michael Schwartz has more planned for us. I feel as though I have seen this entire city from every angle and yet I know there is so much yet to see. The time is slipping by oh so quickly.
Blessings and peace,