This church is located right across the street from our hotel. I remember looking
at it the first day while
eating breakfast. It’s located below street level. The roof barely peeks over the
curb of the sidewalk. You don’t have to be an expert to guess that it’s an ancient building. The brickwork looked Roman to me. It was obviously a church and a very old one. Constructed along the lines of the
early Christian basilicas, even the entrance looked authentic. Before there
were narthexes in churches they built
front
porches. We went down the steps to find out its name one day. The plaque said San Vitale. Ok, fine, now we
had
a name to go on. No problem. We looked in our guidebooks
to find out all about this little treasure. Uh—not mentioned. Not a word. Not in any of our books and pamphlets. Nothing in the church listings of Rome. Strange. This thing looked really important. In desperation, we went to our favorite Internet café
(yes, the world
is really small), and did a Google search. Presto! The Church of San Vitale:
built in the year 400
A.D. and dedicated by Pope Innocent I. That’s nine years before the Visigoths sacked Rome, and the Empire began to collapse. And you know what else
this
church is famous for? Nothing. Just another 1,600 year old church in Rome with no historical or religious significance whatsoever. Wow. Think
about that for a minute. This is one old city.
So, my wife and I decided to give it
significance. The next day, at
the end of the afternoon, we were walking back to
the hotel and decided to pop in and get out of the heat for a few moments. We also wanted to see
what the inside was like.
Mass was about to be said, so we stayed and took communion. Only us, three old Roman ladies dressed in black, and a couple
of tourists like ourselves, were there. A very nice feeling. The church was gloomy and cool. No carvings
were inside,
but
the entire plastered interior was painted with faded, black fresco, probably the result of
age.
It reminded me of Delacroix’s Wreck of the Lampedusa. Demons, columns, angels, martyrs, scrollwork, and landscapes surrounded us. It was hard to keep it all straight in the dimness.
We liked the service so much that we
decided to go one more time on Saturday evening, the night before we were to
fly back home. We took a leisurely shower, packed,
ate, and
ambled over to the church. We couldn’t get near
the place. A wedding. Crowds of people. Limo out front, tuxedos and rice, photographers, a mob scene. So much for our
last peaceful moment in Rome. Of course we couldn’t find another service in time, so we had to content ourselves
with watching the joyous bridal party pose for pictures. You never know what will happen in Rome.
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