Faith is Questioned
Each time I looked into a church on my Rome trip, I attempted to create an emotional connection or other lasting impression of the visit, but my efforts rarely bore any fruit. As an Atheist the churches I saw were only places of acknowledging respect and observing the occasional Caravaggio art in the alcoves. My endeavours to find meaning in the churches I walked into finally came when I visited St. Peter’s Basilica and Basilica di Santa Sabina all’Aventino.
These two churches are an unlikely pairing to imagine that they would both equally make an impact on me given their extremely different styles. However, as I stepped into the interior of St. Peter’s Basilica I was immediately awestruck. My neck grew sore from staring upwards at the gold painted ceiling and from circling my head around as I observed statues like Michelangelo’s Pietà. I moved leisurely peaking at parts of walls and marble columns that I could see between gaps of tourists milling about. St. Peter’s Basilica was an imposing baroque architectural feat and its famous dome casting light onto altars drew my gaze. Even I felt tempted to bow to the power of the Catholic Church, an impression that seemed to define Rome’s religious atmosphere. I wondered to myself how many people came to see Saint Peter’s Basilica because they were of the faith and how many of them were like me imposters admiring the artwork.
Most of my Church visits made me feel like I shouldn’t be there. No matter how properly covered I was in wearing full length pants and long-sleeved tops, I felt like an exposed traitor for only wanting to see the Church for its aesthetic. It wasn’t until I entered the modest church of Basilica di Santa Sabina all’Aventino that I stopped worrying about those concerns.
This church had very few tourists and the simplicity of the decor with its muted gray walls and a few paintings above altars all felt intimate. I watched people light small candles and make prayers, but my attention shifted when a man and a woman walked in holding bouquets of flowers in woven baskets. I was first confused by their behavior until I looked out at the open door on my right and saw a white truck with other flowers in buckets. I continued to watch the woman bring handfuls of flowers in, until I stopped her and asked, “Is there a wedding today?” She nodded and smiled in agreement. Our interaction was short, but the moment was lasting. The impending wedding and preparations happening around me, put a face to the church. I grinned in delight that such a cheerful union was soon to begin. Despite the grandeur of churches like St. Peter there was an off-putting sense of arrogance that it aired. It wasn’t like Santa Sabina, a church that’s preserved not only many of its original decor, but it retained the purpose of having churches: It brought people together; no less and no more.