The Gesu Church and the Camere of Saint Ignatius

Several weekends ago, I headed up to Rome for the first part of a week of leave.  I had been to the Eternal City a couple of times since moving to Italy, but they were both quick trips without a lot of actual touring.  This time I was planning on doing some legitimate sightseeing with some of my traveling American friends, who I planned to meet up with later in the week.  (My friend Jimmy was in Rome working on his PhD in art history and my friend Kari was making her first visit to Europe).

After finishing my Friday clinic, I took an easy 2 hour train from the Aversa station near base to Rome’s Termini station.  From there, it was a short walk across Piazza della Republica to my hotel.  I quickly checked in, dropped off my bag, and headed out to see some sights before meeting some other Navy friends for dinner.  After having recently read a book about Saint Ignatius of Loyola, I really wanted to make it to the Gesù Church - the mother church of the religious order St. Ignatius founded, the Society of Jesus (aka, the Jesuits).  To get there it was about a 20 minute downhill walk along Via Nazionale and a hop across Piazza Venezia.  As I walked into Piazza Gesù, I turned to face the imposing facade of the church.

Immediately after passing through the front door, I was struck by the huge vastness of the church (a feeling that would be repeated many times upon entering the various churches of Rome in the coming days).  Immediately, my eyes were drawn to the ceiling to behold the immense fresco covering virtually the entire ceiling.  Entitled The Triumph of the Name of Jesus, the ceiling appears to open into the sky where the faithful are called to heaven.  From the edges of the painting’s frame, the tangled bodies of the damned tumble toward eternal suffering.  The artwork is unique in that at its periphery the painted frescos mingle with surrounding 3-D stucco bodies.

 

As one walks up toward the front of the church, you come upon two side chapels.  The left transept contains the tomb and altarpiece of St. Ignatius of Loyola.  Ignatius was born to a Spanish noble family in 1491 and spent most of his young life as a soldier.  At the Battle of Pamplona in 1521, he was seriously wounded as his leg was struck and shattered by a cannonball.  During a long convalescence, he underwent a spiritual conversion and devoted his life to God.  (Because of his shabby health insurance plan and what HAD to be chronic osteomyelitis, he would have a limp the remainder of his life.)  Ignatius was eventually ordained in 1537 and went on to form the Society of Jesus (officially approved by Pope Paul III in 1540).  He spent the remainder of his life in Rome as the superior of the Jesuits (where he wrote his classic texts The Spiritual Exercises and the Jesuit Constitutions) before dying in 1556.

St. Ignatius Altar and Tomb

St. Ignatius' Tomb

The right transept contains the St. Francis Xavier Chapel.  Francis Xavier was a close friend of Ignatius and also one of the first Jesuits.  In this chapel, a silver reliquary contains part of the saint's right arm -   which he reportedly used to baptize over 300,000 people.  The rest of his bodily remains are interred in the Jesuit church in Goa, India.

St. Francis Xavier Altar and Relic

St. Francis Xavier's Right Hand

After looking around a bit, I sat down amongst the rest of the tourists in one of the center pews.  For about twenty minutes, I relaxed and read my guidebook describing the church.  As I sat there reading,  reflecting, and praying; two men walked to the front of the pews and began addressing the crowd.  One of them was clearly an American priest (Roman collar and speaking English with a Boston accent) and he began describing the history of the church and its artwork.  As I sat listening to him, I began to look around at the people sitting in the pews near me.  I was surprised to finally notice that I was completely surrounded by about thirty middle-aged men, who were also clearly American priests.  As the priest in front continued speaking, he remarked that the next part of their tour would be the Camere of St. Ignatius.  I had read about these rooms before – they were in a building just adjacent to the church and were where St. Ignatius had lived, worked, and died.  I was excited at the possibility of getting to see these rooms. 

As the group of priests stood up and began walking towards the church exit, I also stood and made my way next to the priest who had been speaking.  I introduced myself and asked where he and the others were from.  It turns out that they were part of a larger group of priests from all across America who were in Italy for a three month sabbatical.  After briefly explaining who I was and what I was doing in Rome, I asked if I could join them for the remainder of their tour.  I figured it couldn’t hurt at ask… after all, they were priests.  (Matthew 7.7: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you.)  I definitely caught him off guard with my request as he hesitated a moment before asking the Jesuit Brother who would be giving the tour if I could come.  Fortunately, the answer was yes and I was then introduced to the rest of the group as we walked out the doors of the Gesù Church and towards the adjacent building.  In order to gain some “street cred” with my new friends, I mentioned that I had done my undergrad at Notre Dame (Congregation of the Holy Cross) followed by more than a decade at Georgetown (Jesuits).  Upon hearing this, one of the priests commented, “One taught you to be a good Catholic and the other taught you to think.”  While some in Northern Indiana might not entirely agree with that, I couldn’t exactly dispute his point. 

Once inside, we made our way up a stairway and down a hallway of the Camere of St. Ignatius.  The Jesuit Brother guiding us said that while the majority of the structure had been rebuilt after being damaged by floods, the four inner Ignatian rooms were original and had been preserved.  Built between 1543-4, they were where St. Ignatius lived and worked until his death in 1556.  As we climbed the staircase to these rooms, one of the priests I had been chatting with jokingly commented, “So, it’s a Friday evening and you are here with thirty middle-aged priests, did you ever think that God is trying to tell you something?”  At least I think he was joking.

First we entered a corridor outside of the rooms.  This corridor actually used to be the outer porch, but at some point after St. Ignatius’ death the Camere became a popular pilgrimage destination.  Thus, the Jesuits had the porch enclosed and richly decorated.  The scenes painted by Andrea Pozzo, a Jesuit and an artist, celebrate the life of St. Ignatius and provide some interesting illusionary effects (angles painted to appear flat, square edges as rounded). 

From there we climbed a short staircase to enter the original rooms of St. Ignatius.  The first room was a reception area where St. Ignatius entertained guests and met with each of the Jesuit missionaries as they departed Rome (most whom he would never see alive again).  The Jesuit Brother leading the tour ran off an impressive list of saints and other notable historical figures who had passed through this room. 

St. Ignatius' Reception Room

The next room was a small study and bedroom where St. Ignatius lived.  Contained there was a desk, a chair, a copy of the original Spiritual Exercises, a pair of the saint’s sandals, and a bust of St. Ignatius (based on his death mask) that was set at his actual height.  I didn’t ask, but I am not convinced that the lamp is original.

St. Ignatius' burial vestment

Adjacent to the reception room was a chapel used by St. Ignatius and his fellow Jesuits.  Its simplicity was in stark contrast to the neighboring Gesù Church (and it certainly reminded me of other similar chapels from my school days - specifically, Morrissey Manor’s Chapel  and Georgetown’s Copley Crypt).  The next thing I knew, all of the priests began filing into another back room.  Not sure what I had missed (as I had been paying attention), I peered in to see that they were donning vestments in preparation for celebrating Mass in the chapel.  Not wanting to intrude any more than I already was, I just hovered in the back corner of the chapel and tried to stay out of the way.  However, one of the priests then came up to me and introduced himself.  He, along with the others, was obviously very excited for the opportunity to celebrate Mass in this special chapel.  He pressed his small digital camera into my hand and asked that I subtly take a few pictures of him during the Mass (at appropriate times, of course). 

The rest of the priests then filed into the chapel and we all were seated in the wood and wicker stools alongside the walls.  The subsequent Mass was one of the most memorable ones that I will experience in my lifetime.  To hear all thirty-plus priests speak the liturgy of the Eucharist in synchrony in this setting was amazing.  (Of course, I was already thrilled just to be hearing Mass in English…)  

After the celebration ended, everyone took some additional pictures and mingled as we made our way outside of the Camere of St. Ignatius into Piazza Gesù.  I really appreciated making some new friends and I thanked them for affording me a unique opportunity to experience a historic and holy place. 

Every day at 1730, the painting above St. Ignatius' tomb is lowered by hidden pulleys to reveal the silver statue.

St. Ignatius would struggle playing basketball.

"In Sicily, women are more dangerous than shotguns.” Fabrizio in The Godfather - My Return to Sicily

Mount Etna viewed from a hill in Paterno

With the beginning of February, it was time for me to return to Sicily to provide orthopaedic coverage for U.S. Naval Hospital Sigonella.  Since a month is a long time without a lot of real work to do, it’s nice to have a car to do some sightseeing off of the base.  The best way to make that happen is to bring my own car on the overnight ferry from Napoli to Catania.  I actually really enjoy the ferry since it is such a relaxing way to travel.  Once you get on board, that's it.  The most challenging part of the trip is the half hour drive from my Pozzuoli apartment to the Napoli porto.  That short drive is good reminder of some of the things I do not like about driving here:  no rules (in a bad way) or courtesy among drivers, tons of mopeds and motorcycles coming from every direction, and random pedestrians jumping into the street.  The highlight of this most recent trip was when I saw a car about to merge onto the Tange (the equivalent of an interstate that leads to downtown Naples).  The driver suddenly changed his mind, threw his car in reverse, and began to back all the way up the entrance ramp (despite the many other cars attempting to merge onto the highway).  I do some crazy things in a car over here (things I wouldn’t dream of doing at home), but this was a pretty bold move by the dude.  He must have really wanted to avoid paying the 0.85 Euro toll to turn around the right way.  But then, maybe he was doing it the “right” way.  Unfortunately, the fun isn’t over once you arrive at the port.  In all the mass of cars and tractor trailers trying to get on the ferry, you have to fight your way to get near the ticket office, park illegally, run inside to wait in line to get your actual ticket, and then jump back in the line of cars waiting to board the ferry.  Fortunately, I had really wanted to avoid this, so I arrived very early.  As one of the first to board, it was a fairly painless experience.

After first driving up the ramp to get on board and then down the next ramp to park in the garage, you proceed upstairs to the check in desk to get the keys to your cabin - just like in a hotel. (You don’t have to get a room, but it really is well worth the price.  “Sleeping” in one of the chairs in the open lobby area would be pretty awful, but many people do it.)  I recognized the lady at the front desk from my previous trip down to Sicily this past September.  She took one look at me and said, “You are going to Sigonella.”  Definitely a statement and not a question, and testimony to how much Americans stand out from the locals.  (This exact same thing had happened with her in September, so I wasn’t shocked.)  She then made a fist, tapped it on her forehead, and said something about me having it “stamped” on my head.  Before giving me the key to my cabin, she said, “You were here before.  With your mom and dad.”  Sure enough, she was right, they were with me last time.  I was impressed, she was smart.  And I apparently do not blend in.

For what it's worth, I don't mind not blending in.  Especially with that guy.

The ferry ride itself is great.  It leaves Naples at 9PM and arrives in Catania at 9AM.  Occasionally, it gets a little rough with the waves, but mostly it is a calm, gentle rolling.  After grabbing dinner from the buffet line, I settled into my room, fired up my laptop with my buddy’s Sopranos DVDs, and got a great night’s sleep.

The ferry arrived in Catania as scheduled the next morning.  After showering, I went out to walk around the deck for a bit as I had some time to kill before they let the passenger cars unload.  It was raining fairly hard, but it was interesting to see the anchor lowered and the ferry tied up.  After the passengers without cars and the trucks had been unloaded, it was finally time to head downstairs to the deck where mine and the other passenger cars were parked.  After driving off the ferry, it was only a twenty minute drive from the Catania port to the base.

Arriving in Catania.

Anyone have a cigarette?

Catania

Since arriving, it has been pretty relaxing.  NAVHOSP NAPLES isn’t exactly a busy place, but NAVHOSP SIGONELLA makes it look like a level 1 trauma center (well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration…).  I see clinic twice a week and remain available for whatever emergencies come up (though the hospital doesn't have the capabilities to handle anything too serious).  My previous month here in the fall, I only made it to the OR once for an elective knee arthroscopy.  Amazingly, the first week this time around, I made it to the OR twice – to fix two finger fractures, one of them an open fracture.  So at least that was interesting and I felt like I was actually contributing.  Hopefully, things will keep up in the coming weeks to make work more exciting and rewarding.

Though work is slow, I really have been given the gift of time and I have been trying to make the most of it.  I enjoy working out in the gym every day, running through the orange groves outside of the base, reading orthopaedic journals, reading history books, using Rosetta Stone to work on my Italian, and doing some sightseeing. 

Mount Etna - a ten thousand foot high active volcano that dominates the landscape of the eastern side of the island. 

Sicily is a triangular island in the Mediterranean that is approximately the size of Vermont. It is certainly a beautiful and interesting place with an amazing history, particularly because it has been conquered by just about everyone over the centuries – Greeks, Romans, Vandals, Ostrogoths, Byzantines, Normans, Spaniards, Bourbons, and, most recently, the Americans and British in World War II.  According to Henry Adams, "Sicily in all ages seems to have taught only catastrophe and violence ... For a lesson in anarchy ... Sicily stands alone and defies evolution."  

Cemetery in Paterno

The Ionian Sea from Acireale

Norman Castle in Paterno

The highlight of my first weekend was making it to downtown Catania to see the Saint Agata Festival.  Saint Agata was martyred in Catania in 251 A.D. and is the city’s patron saint.  The festival is one of the world’s largest celebrations for a saint and it is a HUGE deal here (and has been since the first festival in 1519).  The relics of Saint Agata (bones from her legs, arms, skull, etc,) are contained in crystal and silver caskets and inside a bust of her head.  These are then are carried throughout the city in the “Vara” - a 16 foot long richly decorated silver carriage.  Apparently, the golden crown is studded with gems donated by King Richard “The Lionhearted” in 1190 during his visit to Sicily on his way to a crusade.

I was fortunate to make it into town for the second night of the three day festival.  The streets were jam packed, but I managed to make it into the Church of Saint Agata just as a Mass was ending and the carriage was being prepared to be pulled through the streets of Catania.  It was interesting to see the devotion of the Catanians honoring Saint Agata.  I guess they should be devoted, considering that on two occasions she has been credited with preventing eruptions of Mount Etna from destroying the city.  In both instances (251 and 1886), her veil was brought in procession to the eruption site and the advancing lava flow miraculously stopped.

After the carriage was rolled out of the church doors, it stopped in the small piazza out front, was loaded with more candles, and the long rope to be used to pull it through the streets was uncoiled and passed forward to the many devotees entrusted with pulling the carriage.  The carriage then began moving forward and the crowd slowly parted before it.  

It slowly advanced though the streets before stopping at a larger intersection for a large fireworks show.  I have to say that fireworks are another thing that Italians do very well.  This show was close, loud, and long.  The streets were filled with smoke, smelled of gunpowder, and paper debris from the explosions rained onto the crowd below.  It seemed that the party was just getting going (they pull the carriage around for hours), but for me it was well after midnight and my evening was ending.  But it was definitely one of the more interesting experiences I’ve had over here.