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VATICAN CITY BLOG
Holy Roman Empire! This
place is huge. It's beautiful, it is true.
And Rick Steve says, "even if you
are not Catholic, while you are here, consider becoming one." Meaning, I
suppose, that you must simply give in to the events in front of your
face. On the one hand, it is a Sepulcher. The Basilica is filled with
tombs of past Popes. But it is more than that, for there is the tomb of
my new buddy, St. Peter. And the glorious window of Bernini and his
magnificent canopy over the altar. The vaulted ceilings and the walls
are covered with exotic marbles in a delicious riot of color and
texture. The size and volume of space inside is bigger than anything I
have ever seen.
I think of Disneyland. Not that
it is an amusement park. It is the magic of the place. I am a little boy
again that believes in Tinkerbelle. I want to believe in
everything, I want to believe in the magic.
And there is Michelangelo's
Pieta, created when he was only 24. Too far away to really admire
because of the moron who tried to destroy it so many years ago, it is
behind glass and partitioned some distance away to keep it safe. But
even from this distance, you are saddened to see this the silhouette of
this poor woman holding the lifeless body of her dead son. It's
heartbreaking, and Mary's body language is not unlike the images of
contemporary grieving mothers in Darfur or South Africa, holding their
AIDS-stricken babies one last time before they release them to the box,
to the hole in the ground.
I am also, for some reason,
reminded of mourning doves. Mourning doves mate for life, and when one
is killed by a speeding car, the other sits by the dead body for days,
making pitiful little noises, staring painfully at the body, waiting for
their mate to get up. If mourning doves have a grief-stricken expression
on their faces, as I believe they do, then this is the expression on
Mary's face. I am sad to see this beautiful sculpture.
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