The Pope was kind of a big deal back in the Renaissance. Although no longer infallible, he's apparently got enough of a fan base to chant his name like a rock-star on Easter Sunday before his address.
Easter Sunday services were interesting. They switched languages several times, changing between Italian, French, Spanish, English, and one or two other european languages I couldn't identify. The front of St. Peter's Basilica was decked out in fancy flower bouquets, and the open area facing the Basilica was set up for thousands.
Somehow, miraculously, incredibly, shockingly, we got a seat. I don't know how it happened--people seem to plan on going to Easter services at the vatican for over a year, yet we did manage to get seats. Just 15 minutes after we sat down we looked behind us to see this:
After the service, the Pope, to cheering fans, peeped out of his window to grace us with his godly presence from a high. (Can you see his tiny figure in the red-velvet window? He was probably double that size for us in real life!)
But other than the thrill of simply being in Rome for Easter, or seeing the Pope address the world, or hearing his fans screaming his name, the service was pretty awful. I was a non-christian (non-religious, really), non-Italian-speaking, bored traveler listening to a very religious ceremony in many languages I couldn't understand for hours in the cold and rainy weather. I'm very happy I went and witnessed the scene. I'm really fortunate to have gotten a seat, to have understood at least the little English, French and Spanish portions of the service, and to have a Christian friend beside me to explain all the rituals I didn't understand, but it still wasn't an experience I'd jump back into. Once was enough for me.
However, after the service we got to go inside the Basilica. It had been closed and there had been lines and for a variety of reasons we couldn't get in previously, but we finally made our way into the church with the largest interior of any Christian church in the world. It's really big.
Just being in the Basilica you feel small. It doesn't have the dainty, elegant nature of some other European Churches with their delicate stained glass windows and lace-like architecture. That's because this church is a Basilica and not a cathedral. This church is a mammoth of a building with solid marble columns and heavy stone architecture. It inspires awe, just like it was meant to do.
Yet through all of that brute force, there are items of intense beauty. There are beautiful golden accents, ornate carvings and decorations, and sculptures all around. The most famous, the most beautiful is La Pietà by Michael-Angelo.
The subject is endearing--not just because of the religion behind it, but because of the global, relatable love between a mother and child. But more than that, it's a believable sculpture full of delicate lines and real emotion. It would be worth going to the Basilica just to see Michael-Angelo's masterpiece.
Easter Sunday services were interesting. They switched languages several times, changing between Italian, French, Spanish, English, and one or two other european languages I couldn't identify. The front of St. Peter's Basilica was decked out in fancy flower bouquets, and the open area facing the Basilica was set up for thousands.
Somehow, miraculously, incredibly, shockingly, we got a seat. I don't know how it happened--people seem to plan on going to Easter services at the vatican for over a year, yet we did manage to get seats. Just 15 minutes after we sat down we looked behind us to see this:After the service, the Pope, to cheering fans, peeped out of his window to grace us with his godly presence from a high. (Can you see his tiny figure in the red-velvet window? He was probably double that size for us in real life!)
But other than the thrill of simply being in Rome for Easter, or seeing the Pope address the world, or hearing his fans screaming his name, the service was pretty awful. I was a non-christian (non-religious, really), non-Italian-speaking, bored traveler listening to a very religious ceremony in many languages I couldn't understand for hours in the cold and rainy weather. I'm very happy I went and witnessed the scene. I'm really fortunate to have gotten a seat, to have understood at least the little English, French and Spanish portions of the service, and to have a Christian friend beside me to explain all the rituals I didn't understand, but it still wasn't an experience I'd jump back into. Once was enough for me.
However, after the service we got to go inside the Basilica. It had been closed and there had been lines and for a variety of reasons we couldn't get in previously, but we finally made our way into the church with the largest interior of any Christian church in the world. It's really big.
Just being in the Basilica you feel small. It doesn't have the dainty, elegant nature of some other European Churches with their delicate stained glass windows and lace-like architecture. That's because this church is a Basilica and not a cathedral. This church is a mammoth of a building with solid marble columns and heavy stone architecture. It inspires awe, just like it was meant to do.Yet through all of that brute force, there are items of intense beauty. There are beautiful golden accents, ornate carvings and decorations, and sculptures all around. The most famous, the most beautiful is La Pietà by Michael-Angelo.
The subject is endearing--not just because of the religion behind it, but because of the global, relatable love between a mother and child. But more than that, it's a believable sculpture full of delicate lines and real emotion. It would be worth going to the Basilica just to see Michael-Angelo's masterpiece.