Sunday, March 1, 2015

Hail Mary

There followed, after my trip to the mountaintop, a trek through more refined and noble devotions. I believe Alexa and I stopped into seven churches in our walk through Rome, all of them dedicated to Santa Maria. Our Lady. Mother of God. The Übermom.

I was so gobsmacked I could not remember their names. And my camera was not worthy. My sophisticated, well-traveled readers, the ones who told me not to miss some of these churches, will probably recognize these.

Drop a coin in the slot and they'll light up a ceiling or wall.

This one is the Basilica of Santa Maria of the Angels etc...

And yes, that's the Carravagio from your Art History book I'm sneaking a photo of...

Stone diaphané

In Piazza Santa Maria, they were filming a NesCafé commercial... which meant George Clooney must have been nearby. Knocking on Heaven's door...

Santa Maria Trastevere

This church, cobbled together from ancient sites, invited us to join in for a silent meditation. To sit and sing and let the music wash over us was uplifting and transformative. Asking Our Lady to pray for us (Prega per noi), for all the problems in the world, for all we know who are in need of care, opened windows in my heart.

There are things in this world that are beyond our understanding. St. Peter and the guys built an empire on the idea of miracles, and the church has worked to elevate, incorporate and own every supernatural occurrence with sainthood. There are more saints than one could ever learn, and one literally walks on their tombs in these amazing and ubiquitous churches. 

Other than Mary, we walked into a church that wasn't even on the map, full of costumes (foreshadowing adventures to come), and our eyeballs were assaulted by a lavish painting of sexual torture. (Not pictured. You're welcome. I can't even find it on the internet) At least I figured out who the mystery lady with her breasts on a plate was.

The Church of the Severed Boobies is also full of CLOTHES!

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