{"id":4233,"date":"2006-03-08T23:17:26","date_gmt":"2006-03-08T23:17:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/viamedia\/2006\/03\/santa-croce.html"},"modified":"2006-03-08T23:17:26","modified_gmt":"2006-03-08T23:17:26","slug":"santa-croce","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/viamedia\/2006\/03\/santa-croce.html","title":{"rendered":"Santa Croce"},"content":{"rendered":"

On our last full day in Rome, after the 10:30 Latin Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica and our farewell to the Pope at the Angelus, we decided to squeeze in a couple more sites before packing and apartment cleaning commenced. We’d stopped to eat lunch at a place off of Borgo Pio, and since it was so close to the apartment, I took the baby off to get some milk while the rest waited for the food. On the short journey, I heard a voice behind me and turned to see, yes…the Roaming Roman, there with a friend, having just come from the Angelus themselves. Hah! Well, she had two final recommendations – Santa Croce in Gerusalemme<\/a> and the Old Bridge gelato place, which she said was the best gelato in Rome. Unfortunately, we didn’t make the latter, but did venture over to the former.<\/p>\n

Our bus passes had run out by then, and the basilica is actually a pretty fair hike from the nearest Metro stop, so we took a taxi. (Rome taxis can be a good way to get around, especially if there’s a group of you and you have a single destination in mind that’s not convenient to the buses – rare, but it happens)<\/p>\n

Of course, the place is famous for its relics – most interesting was the dirt – from Calvary it is said, which, if my memory serves, is in a chapel decorated with a statue of St. Helena adapted from one of Juno<\/a> . The dirt is under plexiglass, but somehow, scores of supplicants have found ways to push their prayers, written on slips of paper, under the plastic, to touch the dirt. Read more about the relics at that previous link.<\/p>\n

The church is run by Cistercians, one of whom was staffing the table on the way to the relic chapel, as well to a special art exhibit briefly described here<\/a> and guarded by two police officers who rather indifferently paced the single small hall and, as we’d come to expect, made faces at the baby. The brother or father was lovely – a German who spoke English with a British accent, and who delighted Joseph by saying that his name, too, was Joseph, and then later, that his baptismal name was Michael. The exhibit was, as I said, small and sort of odd – Perhaps 15-so pieces, including some paintings, some vestments and a reliquary or two. I could not quite see the connections between the pieces, and the explanatory placard was in Italian. What did<\/em> interest me was the van Dyck crucifixion painting in which Jesus bled slightly from his nose and even, it seemed, from his eyes, as well as the Caravaggio martyrdom of St. Agapito which focused on the moment of decapitation, close up and personal. <\/p>\n

Amid all the relics and the art was another treasure – the presence of a little girl, Servant of God Antonietta Neo, or Nennolina<\/a>, who is buried there, whose cause I suppose is being promoted there, and whose story is told there – diagnosed with cancer at the age of 5, a leg amputated at 6 and died at 7, she wrote scores of letters to Jesus which are, it’s said, expressive of a mature and sacrificial piety. Brother or Father Joseph told us that there was a shrine or some other site dedicated to her in Illinois – anyone know where?<\/p>\n

We ended up taking the Metro back to the center  – Michael had not seen the Trevi fountain, and there were a couple of churches in that area he wanted to see. On the way, which approached St. John Lateran, we passed through a park – there’s a picture somewhere of Joseph on one of the play structures, in front of an ancient wall. The park hosted its share of cuddling lovers (somehow, the presence of so much PDA in Rome scandalized Katie. Don’t tell me kids can’t be sheltered, still) and comfortably chatting groups of women. On one path, a woman stood in front of her seriously disabled charge – perhaps a daughter, perhaps a sister – speaking to her strongly – I dearly hope in encouragment –  as the girl struggled to walk. <\/p>\n

Before we turned to the Metro station, we spotted a site we had missed the week before on our visit to the basilica – facing it, at some distance, but clearly in reference to it, an enormous statue of St. Francis and companions – He  is holding his arms out in supplication in the direction of St. John Lateran – <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

..for it was there, that Innocent III approved the Rule of St. Francis and where he had a dream, also commemorated within the church, of Francis supporting the crumbling church – <\/a>are his arms in the statue in supplication or are they holding up that church…or both?<\/p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On our last full day in Rome, after the 10:30 Latin Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica and our farewell to the Pope at the Angelus, we decided to squeeze in a couple more sites before packing and apartment cleaning commenced. 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The Catholicism comes from her side. Amy grew up in a number of places - Indiana - Washington, DC - Lubbock Texas - Arlington, Virginia - DeKalb, Illinois - Lawrence, Kansas - and Knoxville, Tennessee, where the family settled in 1973. She attended Knoxville Catholic High School, then the University of Tennessee where she majored in history. She received an MA in Church History from Vanderbilt University, where she wrote a thesis on the changing role of women in 19th century American Protestantism, and the ways Scripture was used to justify those changes. She worked as as a teacher in Catholic high schools and a Parish Director of Religious Education and started writing for the diocesan press - the Florida Catholic - in 1988. Amy has written columns for Our Sunday Visitor and Catholic News Service at times over the past twenty years. Her articles have been published in venues ranging from Our Sunday Visitor to the New York Times to Commonweal. She has written 17 books. 18, if you included the as yet tragically unpublished novel. Amy has five children, ranging in age from 26 to 4 and was married to Michael Dubruiel, who died unexpectedly in February 2009. 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