The Sistine Chapel (within Santa Maria Maggiore built 1584 A.D.)

This is the Sistine Chapel.  I’m serious. This really is the Sistine Chapel—or at least one of them. Pope Sixtus V (1584-87) died and was buried in Santa Maria Maggiore. That’s him seated in grandeur on the back wall right above his tomb. The Sistine Chapel you’re thinking of was built by Sixtus IV in

1474. An easy mistake. I get those Sexti mixed up all the time. Sextus V did a lot for Rome: he paved many of the streets, and helped to clean up the mess when the city was sacked by Charles V’s German army in 1527. Germans have never been popular in Rome—the first crew came through in 390 B.C. and took the place apart that time as well.

Look at the decoration on the walls: the carvings, the color, the intricacy. Layer upon layer of decoration have made this church amazingly intense. The shell of the basilica is just that: a classic Roman law court design with a long, open space, supported by columns, with a semi-circular apse at one end. This was where the judge sat when court was in session. When the buildings were adapted for worship, Christians placed the altar where the judicial bench had been.  During the Renaissance, carvings and inlays were added, along with a coffered wooden ceiling covered in gold leaf. The gold is said to be the first that Christopher Columbus found in the New World, and was sent to the Pope as a gift.

Although there are no relics of Mary in Santa Maria, there is one of interest: in a case near the high altar are a few pieces of wood said to be parts of the crib of Jesus. I love the interiors of the churches in Rome.  Huge, empty, muffled atmospherics. A low buzz from the crowd of people hits you the minute you walk in. There is no smell like an Italian church. It’s a combination of damp plaster, mildew from old marble, tarnished bronze, incense, wax candles, and decayed flowers.

The last time we were in Santa Maria, we saw a small procession emerge from a side chapel. It was late in the day. A minor ceremony--perhaps a private mass--was being performed.  No one in the crowd noticed who was passing by.  First, an altar boy emerged with a cross, then a lector followed with the scriptures, lastly, a single figure brought up the rear of the small procession. It was a bishop. Rome is so overwhelmed with Catholicism, that a bishop is of no more interest to the average Roman than a Fiat automobile. That’s something!