The Dome of St. Peter's Basilica from the top of Castel Sant'Angelo

Four years ago my wife Deborah was accepted into a program in support of women clergy.  "Women Touched by Grace" is funded through a grant from the Lily Foundation and facilitated by Benedictine nuns from Our Lady of Grace Monastery in Beech Grove, Indiana.  Twice a year, for four years Deb has journeyed to be with this group of 30 pastors and the nuns for ten day sessions working on spiritual renewal to strengthen the church.  The last session was planned in Italy in order to explore the life of St. Benedict, the founder of the order.  Since Deb's trip was paid by the program, we cashed in some frequent flyer miles to purchase my ticket.  Originally we were going to have a week together to explore Italy, then when Deb left for her program, I'd do my thing in Rome.  Realizing that two weeks is a long time for six-year old Eric to be away from both Mom and Dad, we re-ordered the trip so I'd go for five days first, then meet up with Deb for our vacation time, and return home when she began her session. 

My interest in exploring Rome began in earnest just two years ago during my pilgrimage to Turkey.  I traveled with scholars Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, both of whom have deeply affected me through their work.  It is Crossan's thesis on the development of early Christianity, however, that I have pursued since the trip.  Crossan's book, In Search of Paul: How Jesus' Apostle Opposed Rome's Empire with God's Kingdom, released just a week after our return from Turkey,   co-authored with Jonathan Reed,  piqued my curiosity about Rome. 

Crossan's basic theory is that Paul (as well as Jesus) preached in opposition to the empire.  After Julius Caesar's death, he was deified by the Senate. His adopted son Augustus became emperor and was deemed "The Son of a God."  "No," Crossan's Paul asserts, "Jesus is the Son of God."  More complex than simple wordplay, Crossan goes on to posit that the Roman empire engaged in an all encompassing philosophy, campaign and PR program of "peace through victory," which Jesus, and then, Paul counter with their own program "peace through justice."  In Turkey, Crossan brought us to site after site showing us art and inscriptions amidst the ruins that clearly demonstrated the formula for the Pax Romani.  His book on Paul,  draws on many of those same sites, but of course, Rome itself is featured prominently.  In addition the book draws extensively on the Roman city of Pompeii preserved in time by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD as a typical Roman city near the time of Paul.

I arrived in Rome early in the morning after an easy flight.  I made my way to the monastery where I'd made reservations, dumped my stuff, took a quick shower and jumped a city bus to my first stop.  The Arch of Titus is at one end of the Roman Forum, and it just so happened that the bus stop was in front of the Colosseum.  In 1983 I traveled through Europe with a companion and a backpack.  I'd made a two day stop in Rome, hampered by a near disastrous accident with my eyes.  Still, I'd managed to squeeze in the major tourist attractions.  Now, 23 years later I was here by myself with time, an education and an agenda.  The weather was unseasonably warm.  T-shirt warm.   The Colosseum was magnificent of course in all its architectural glory and reprehensible history.  As I listened to a British group's guide, I realized that the glory of Rome did not simply fall into decay.  It was taken apart piece by piece throughout history, stripped for its precious metals and building materials. 

Upon leaving the Coliseum I walked to one of the sites I was most eager to see: the Arch of Titus.  Crossan writes extensively about this arch as part of his thesis on Roman Imperial Theology but for me it made years of reading and class work real.  It was erected in 81-82 A.D. by Domician as tribute to Vespian's victory over Egypt as well as to honor his Vespian's son Titus and his destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD.  Inside the arch on the south side is a relief showing the spoils of the Jewish temple being carted back to Rome.  For years I've read and heard about the Jewish rebellion of 70 AD and the crushing response of the empire who destroyed the temple.  It is a pivotal moment in both Jewish and Christian history.  Somehow, seeing the empire's victory etched in stone just ten years after the event suddenly made all that theory real for me.  I had a similar experience in Ephesus in 1984 when suddenly much of the New Testament's historicity came rushing at me.  It is an overwhelming and ineffable experience to have your perception on history shift in a single moment. 

Still reeling from having traveled so far, stunned by the spectacular warm day, and still in awe the realization of history I began my stroll through the Roman forum.  I knew I had to sleep early that night so I spent the rest of the day walking around Rome and mapping out the other sites I wanted to see.  I missed my family but enjoyed the feeling of being able to go anywhere and do anything.  Spontaneity is a good thing.  On my walk I realized that in addition to the history of the empire, I was surrounded by the art and remains of thousands of years including the renaissance, the enlightenment, and the entirety of church history.  I enjoyed the warm sunset and returned to the monastery and slept well.

I rose at 6 sharp and made my way by bus and subway across the city to be among the first to line up for the Vatican Museums. It's difficult to take in so much.  I made sure to stop at Sistine Chapel and sought out the Prima Porta statue of Augustus which was on my self produced Crossan curriculum.  I left the museum after about four hours, realizing one could stay four weeks and not take it all in.  Last time I was in Rome I convinced my traveling partner that we should turn left out of the Vatican Museum to get to St. Peter's square and ended up walking completely around Vatican City.  This time I took the shorter route to the right.   What a mix of emotions St. Peter's brings. Of all the myths and legends about relics, I can allow myself the luxury of believing that Peter's remains may actually be under that magnificent structure.  That humans could create such a masterpiece of art, architecture and awe inspiring vastness is astounding.  Its opulence is obscene and yet somehow it remains a holy and mystical place.  It was a prayerful experience.  Since I'd never climbed up to the massive dome to look down into the church from above, and out onto the city from the top, I marched up the stairs.  During the long journey up, having to lean in from the edge of the dome and the narrow hallway I was listening to the PL Staff mix of 2006 shuffled on my Ipod.  Through the basilica I'd heard the ethereal "I Can't Take It In" which could not have been more appropriate and now on this endless stairway what should pop on but Bruce Springsteen's "We Are Climbing Jacob's Ladder."  As I stood outside on the very top of the largest church in the world I looked out over Rome.  As I was gazing and contemplating all the triumphs and tragedies of the church , taken with deep thoughts of human potential and failings, the Ipod switched to a simple guitar riff and suddenly there was the dulcet tones of Arthur Clayton Flanders III singing a song that only the staff of '06 knows.  I'm sure those around me were confident I was insane as I burst in laughter for no apparent reason.  It was a perfect moment.

On my return to the ground I realized my jet lag, two days of walking and my journey up to the sublime top of St. Peter's dome left me feeling exhausted so I treated myself to a cab ride.  It felt good to sit even if just for a few minutes as well as letting someone else figure out how to get to The Pantheon, arguably the most well preserved of any ancient Roman building.  A temple to all gods, the Panetheon replaced two temples that existed before it and has survived since Hadrian had it built (in spite of the inscription on its portico crediting Marcus Agrippa) in about 120 AD.  Its perfect globe like dome includes the mighty opening, or oculus allowing a single stream of sunlight, the structure's only source of light.  Incredible.

With my second wind I decided to walk to one of the destinations I was most eager to see:  The Ara Pacis, Augustae (Altar of Augustan Peace).  The Ara Pacis was decreed by the Senate on Augustus' victorious return from Spain and Gaul in 13 BCE and dedicated in 9 BCE. It was recovered from its original position (on which a renaissance palace had been built) and moved to a site between the Tomb of Augustus and the Tiber in 1938 under the direction of Mussolini, who wished to associate himself with Rome's greatest emperor. Parts of it turned up in Florence, at the Louvre in Paris, and the Vatican.  The Louvre refused to give up its section and casts had to be made. Today it has been moved and is encased in an earthquake proof, roofed structure.  Crossan drew on the altar during his lectures in Turkey and dedicates a chapter to it in his book on Paul.  The annual sacrifice made there and the altar itself is a testament that still shouts "First victory, then peace." 

I circled the structure again and again and then just sat and stared. I was renewed in my belief that to understand Jesus and Paul, one must understand the Empire.  The museum that encases the altar was fascinating and I stayed until closing.  I learned that the Campus Martius was a field, dedicated to Mars, the God of War, where Rome's army trained. The military field was marked at one end by the Pantheon from which I'd just walked, and Augustus' Mausoleum on the other.  Now there is nothing but twisting narrow streets of Rome between them.  The Ara Pacis stood at the edge of the field in between the two.

I left the building and stared at Res Gestae Divi Augusti (Acts of the Divine Augustus) inscribed on the side of the building. The museum is the second building to encase the Altar since 1938, the wall with the inscription is all that remains of the first structure.  The inscription was another attempt by Mussolini to connect himself to Augustus. He wanted to be buried in Augustus' mausoleum.  History saw otherwise.  Looking across the modern copy the Res Gastae I reflected on how this trip began in Turkey as I stood at the Temple of Augustus in Ankara, staring at the best preserved copy of the original, inscribed in both Latin and Greek across that temple's walls. 

I crossed the street to the Mausoleum of Augustus.  A huge circular structure encompassing a city block.  I was stunned.  The site seemed to be decaying before my very eyes.  How could Italy and Rome allow this central piece of world history to become the slum at which I stared.  Grass and weeds grew through it, the public was barred, people were camped out living around its edge and the place smelled of urine.  The photo to the left shows the irony of the care given to to the Ara Paci while the mausoleum crumbles.

The next day I negotiated the 3 hour journey to Ancient Pompeii. Another chapter in Crossan's book.  I had no idea.  It's huge.  And as I walked the streets, looking for sites written about by Crossan I soon became overwhelmed and just took in as much as could in a single day.  Mount Vesuvius lurks over the entire site.  It's not to hard to imagine that it could be a problem.  I thought of the millions of people living around it today. The photo gallery on Rome contains photos of this trip as well.  The plaster casts of people caught in the eruption stared eerily as I toured a city and sensed what life was like for the first Christians.  When people were buried in the ash, they decomposed and left a perfect hollow image of themselves in the hardened stone.  When excavators find such a hollow, they pump plaster into it and create a perfect representation of that persons final moment.  The theatre, necropolis, stadium and baths are impressive to be sure, but it's the everyday life aspects that gave me the newest perspective.  The bakery, the streets with deep chariot grooves, the homes, the shops, the art, the graffiti on the wall, all frozen in time. 

The next day I arranged a tour so I could relax a bit.  I toured one of the Catacombs.  There is mention of these in Crossan but I have always wanted to see them. No photos were allowed as they are considered holy ground. The tour included several other stops, one at the best preserved aqueduct I've seen yet.  Adjusting to the time difference now, I spent a warm night walking Rome's streets feeling the old world sense of community. 

Before my trip I wrote to Dominic Crossan and asked him about my itinerary.  He suggested I visit the Museum of Roman Civilization. He wanted me to start with it, but I had a hard time finding it.  With more familiarity with the landscape and public transportation I finally located it.  The bus led me outside the old city to a modern section and let me out onto an empty, open plaza of blinding white and towering, stark, modern buildings covered with modern art.  It was like stepping into another world.  I made my way through feeling like a lone traveler on a deserted planet.  The museum was amazing.  Each room represents a facet of Roman life: Law, Music, Food, Art, War etc. The two most striking items were a plaster cast of the entire column of Trajan depicting scene by scene of  the major military victories of Trajan in Dacia.  Instead of a vertical, spiraling column, each section is laid out horizontally.  The final stop in the museum is a map room depicting in detail the city of Rome around 300 AD at the time of Constantine.  It's overwhelming with meticulous detail.

I'd achieved all of the stops I wanted to on this trip and still had half a day left so engaged in some guilty pleasure.  I'd taken with me a copy of "Angels and Demons" by Dan Brown.  It's the first book about the character from the DaVinci Code. I'd re-read most of the book on my way to and from Pompeii, now I hunted down each site, each sculpture that the book dealt with and read those sections at the site.  One stop led me to an enchanted lunch and coffee in the Piazza Navona complete with street performances. The penultimate scene of the book is at the magnificent Castel St. Angela so I walked over expecting to read outside its gates.  I found it was open until 8 pm so I bought my ticket and in I went.  It was built in 145 AD as Emperor Hadrian's tomb, later it became a fortress and a castle, the Pope's secret quarters and a torture chamber.  I walked up the ramp that circles the inside to the top where I sat and read the book and watched the sunset over Rome.  It was the perfect ending to an amazing five days.

I went to the airport to meet Deborah.  I put on a tie.  I bought a rose.  I stood at the international gate and waited.  She never showed.  A windy day in Portland had thrown her travel plans into the blender.  She was stuck in Paris, which was not on her original itinerary. Instead of arriving at 11 AM she was now due at 5 PM, five minutes after our flight to Budapest was scheduled to take off.  A day of expensive phone calls and airport nightmares later we hooked up at the airport in Budapest with all our luggage and Janos.  Deb was exhausted but in good spirits nonetheless. 

Janos Meszar is from the Ukraine, although culturally Hungarian.  He is attending University in Budapest. He spent the last three summers as maintenance staff at PL and is loved by all. Janos is eternally positive, willing to do whatever needs to be done, hates to be idle and has a magical way with children and animals.  Last summer when I knew I would be traveling, I offhandedly asked Janos how long it was from Rome to Budapest.  One thing led to another and now here we were, ready for a new adventure.  We stayed in his dorm, formerly a barracks for Russian soldiers. 

Janos was the perfect host. He showed us all around the city which is stunningly beautiful.  He filled us in on the history as well.  It just so happened that we were there during the 50th anniversary of a Hungarian revolt.  In 1955, still occupied by the soviets after World War II the people revolted and were put down mercilessly (it reminds me of Rome crushing the revolt in Jerusalem) ending with Hungary entrenched in the Soviet Union.  One of our stops was a museum set up to remember that event.  Even though it was closed, the faces and stories of the victims was a sobering moment. Janos took us to the Parliament building where the recent uprisings over government corruption occurred.  We also toured an ancient cathedral and castle.  We crossed the Danube and walked to Hero's Square where a thousand years of kings greeted us.  As fascinating as the tour of Budapest was, our favorite thing was just being with Janos and seeing the world in which he lives.  We were there two days when we hugged Janos and returned to Rome. 

There we rented a car and traveled to Orvietto, a city recommended to us by Jay and Martha Young (Jay was the driving force behind the Labyrinth).  It was a highlight of our time together.  The cathedral in the center of this small city is indescribably ornate and beautiful.  The whole city sits on top of a rock outcropping and towers over the plains around it which were once the ocean floor.  The art was incredible as was the tour of the underground.  In Orvietto I became more cognitive of the fact that the layered history of Italy doesn't begin with the Romans but reaches further to the Etruscans.  We stayed in another monastery and upon leaving had a little adventure when the teeny creaky elevator stopped with a sudden BANG and the doors opened to reveal a concrete wall.  We were stuck for about twenty minutes while Sister Stella ran to the chapel to pray for us.  (She was so cute!) In spite of her intercession with the divine, I will confess to a bit of interior claustrophobic panic as I realized there was no emergency door and we were truly trapped.  Deb, of course, was cool as a cucumber.

We continued on to Florence where the first century gave way to the renaissance.  I'd also been in Florence briefly but my memory was dim and besides, one can never gaze at Michelangelo's David too many times.  Whenever we travel Deb and I look for angels playing tambourines in the art since that is her musical gift she developed as a member of the Mob of Angels. I'd photographed about 5 in Rome but in Florence we could barely keep up.   We were there for the ceremonies marking the 40th anniversary of a flood that devastated the city and happened upon a huge celebration with dancing medieval flag throwers (!) outside the Uffizi Museum as we approached to get in line. The food was amazing, as was the art, architecture and history.  We'd stroll into any of the hundreds of churches to find overwhelmingly beautiful interiors.  We again stayed in a monastery.  It was also nice to just be together so much on a vacation we will both always cherish. 

We drove back to Rome and had a bit of fiasco finding a place to stay that ate up our last day.  When we woke and went to airport we found my flight had been changed and I'd missed it.  More travel drama and I ended up booked on the next day's flight.  So, I went with Deb to the start of her Women Touched By Grace program and stayed with her at the Benedictine monestary giving me the pleasure of meeting most of the women I'd heard so much about.  I was up before the sun the next morning as I left Deb to her program and jumped the train to the airport for an uneventful flight back.

The trip renewed my interest in history and focused my understanding of the church.  I'll still take a simple New England Congregational (I mean UCC) church over the grandeur of the 500 churches in Rome.  I am richly blessed and grateful for the opportunity to experience so much in this life.

Photo Galleries:     Rome & Pompeii               Budapest        Orvietto & Florence

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