A View from Rome


We didn’t find Jesus at St Peter’s.

Rae and I had only a limited time in Rome, and we allocated about four hours to explore the great basilica.

We found there a church that was luscious and gorgeous, overwhelming and powerful, beautiful and moving. We stood for some minutes before the famous Pietà, Michelangelo’s marvelous marble statue of the Virgin Mother holding her dead Son.

We found a wealthy church of the Renaissance in some ways ever compromised by its departure from the poor Jesus of Nazareth. Even though we knew Christians had been worshipping there on the Vatican Hill from just after the time of Jesus, it was hard to find evidence of that in just a short visit.

But we did find Jesus just outside of Rome along the Via Appia. As it was just a few days before Christmas, it was quite cold as we walked along the old Roman road, a row of distinctive Roman pines on one side, and on the other, old villas behind hedges and high fences, and catacombs.

We remembered that the Emperor Nero had crucified thousands of Christians along this Appian Way. He blamed them for the great fire of Rome in A.D. 64, and made his point by setting them alight at night to serve as gruesome torches, and leaving the bodies to be gnawed by wild dogs.

We pictured Jesus here.

Jesus walking along the row of his followers, heartening them and praying for all, his own heart broken for them.

Today as I remember that wintry afternoon, I remember too Christians in Iran as they mark these great Three Days of the year. They will be meeting discreetly, feeling the lash of increasing persecution under the cover of this war.

I think too of Christians in Sudan proscribed by that country’s harsh version of Sharia law.

Christians in Gaza; Christians in Ukraine still grieving their necessary split from their sister Russian church; Christians in parts of China.

I pray that they too may find in the Cross of today and the Resurrection of tomorrow the strength to go on and the joy of knowing that Jesus walks with them too.